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Chapter Text

Styx observed the vow that was made on her sacred waters and on her mourned companion’s name: Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades swore not to sire any more children in an attempt to circumvent a prophecy that could destroy Olympus. 

Styx observed the three Kronides sons.

“I swear upon the waters of Styx and upon my niece, Perseleia’s name, that I shall sire no more demigods.” Hades swore, pouring out his goblet of her waters on the marble floor of the throne room.

Hades would be the most faithful to his vow. He hadn’t sired many children but when he did, he adored them fiercely just as Persephone adored the children she and her husband created with a mortal lover. Persephone would be heartbroken but Hades would comfort her. 

“I swear upon the waters of Styx and upon my daughter’s name, I too shall sire no more demigods.” Poseidon swore, somber as even thousands of years later, he still could not speak his daughter’s name. He too poured out his goblet full of Styx’s water on the marble floor.

Poseidon… though swearing on an oath in his lost daughter’s name would normally hold the god to his oaths, there was something that nagged at Styx; a feeling that felt like a fish was swimming against the currents of her waters. She’d have to keep an eye on him.

Then there was Zeus.

Styx pursed her lips and glared at the King of the Gods.

Zeus’ paranoia should theoretically keep him from straying from his lady wife and Queen. His paranoia lost him his first Queen and Athena’s mother. When he sought to replace Hera as Queen and wife with the Nereid Thetis, only the prophecy surrounding her that her son would be greater than his father stayed his desires; he risked one prophecy stating a son would overthrow him, Zeus would not risk another. 

Now there was a prophecy stating that a child, a demigod, would preserve or raze Olympus upon their sixteenth birthday? Styx believed that this would prevent Zeus from pursuing any mortal woman for a few decades but eventually the severity of the prophecy would dwindle in his mind.

Styx raised an eyebrow and glared pointedly at the King.

“This was your idea. What good are your decrees if you do not swear to follow them?” Styx hissed at the King.

“I swear,” Zeus said through clenched teeth, “upon the waters of Styx and my niece, Perseleia’s name, that I too shall not sire any more demigods.” 

Thunder that was not Zeus’ clapped and roared as the oath was sealed the moment the waters from Zeus’ goblet splashed on the floor.

“Should you forget your oaths, should you forget what promise you made,” Styx frowned and studied each of the brothers. “While you may not be punished severely, any child you begat by you, will suffer my wrath and your punishment. You will watch the child you have perish within my waters. You will watch the child suffer the consequences of your oath breaking. You will watch that child die a horrible, suffering death.”

The brothers nodded.

Styx then turned and left the throne room. 

As she was leaving, she passed a fountain that was on the edge of Athena’s grounds overlooking Apollo’s gardens. 

It was not uncommon to find Apollo’s Oracle on Olympus when she needed to deliver a prophecy of such great importance, but to find her on Athena’s temple grounds, on a fountain dedicated to Perseleia…

“They swore the oath.” Gertrude, or Gertie as the child and Apollo frequently called her, said as she looked into the fountain waters.

“They did.” Styx said.

Gertie turned and looked at Styx; her green eyes glowing with the power of Delphi.

“You know something. Speak to me plainly.” Styx ordered. 

“Sit.” Gertie said.

Styx did.

“They swore on Perseleia’s name. Perseleia will return because of this broken oath.” Gertie said.

Styx was thankful she was sitting otherwise she would have collapsed from shock.

It has been thousands of years since…

They had hoped but it had been too long.

“Are you certain?” Styx asked.

Gertie nodded. 

“Who else knows?” Styx demanded. 

Gertie tilted her head. 

“None but you have asked.” She said.

Styx brought her hands to her mouth and shuddered, letting out a mix of laughter, cries, and a gasp. 

When she finally composed herself, she looked around. 

“You are to tell no one of this. Not even your Patron.” Styx ordered. 

“Shall I swear on your waters?” Gertie asked. 

“No. If this is revealed to anyone else, I will not need my waters to enact my wrath upon you.” Styx vowed. 

Gertie smiled up at the goddess. 

“You know, you’ll see her again soon enough.” Then Gertie smiled bitter-sweetly. “We both will.” 

Styx nodded in satisfaction. 

Gertie was mortal. 

Gertie would die in fifty years; longer if Apollo blessed her.

Styx could wait a short time for the goddess she advocated for, for the goddess who understood oaths, who understood promises.

///

Gertrude “Gertie” Jones, the Oracle of Delphi and Priestess to Apollo, was dead.

The Oracle had not moved on to another host.

She couldn’t. Not since Hades swore on her sacred waters that Delphi could not move on until his children were accepted; as of today, none of Hades’ children were accepted.

Some foolish mortal lover of Hermes tried, but she had already had a baby, thus violating an important requirement for the Oracle: to be a virgin.

Styx, along with the King and Queen of the Underworld, watched in morbid curiosity as the mortal went mad.

Styx couldn’t help but think of what the Oracle had said to her: you will see her soon enough. We both will.

///

It was not even half a century and already, Zeus had broken his oath.

Styx felt the shreds of his oath, the angry current of her waters, as the girl was born. 

Styx appeared in the hospital room; the mother was asleep yet the baby was not. 

The baby, Thalia Alyssa Grace, was screaming and crying for a mother who ignored her whimpers. 

Styx didn’t feel pity as she picked up the baby. 

Thalia’s whimpers ceased, thinking her mother was holding her. 

Styx frowned at the infant in her arms.

“Your father broke his oath when he sired you.” Styx said.

Thalia looked up at her with tearful eyes. 

“He will be incapacitated for one year and exiled from feasts for the next nine years but you,” Styx said. “Your name means blossom but you shall not. You shall suffer. You shall never grow to be a woman.” 

Styx laid the baby back in the hospital bassinet and turned to leave. 

The cries of her oath’s violation did nothing to wake her mother.

Styx visited Olympus a lot in the King’s absence. 

Hestia had been asked to be on the council in the King’s incapacitation and Hera could not be more livid.

The Mountain of the Gods was peaceful in the King’s absence.

Everyone, from the Olympians on their thrones to the least of the nymphs and satyrs, could feel it. 

Yet none dared to say it aloud.

Styx was loathed to see the King come back but he could not show his face at any of the feasts for next nine years; Queen Hera made a point to throw many lavish feasts, inviting all the gods to come, and subtly show them all that not even the King of the Gods could keep his oaths.

When Zeus was finally allowed to return to his duties, he was given the coldest greeting from his wife.

And Styx could not blame the Queen of the Heavens.

It was a few years after that when Styx felt her waters roar and the oath she held Poseidon to rip to shreds. 

Styx met Poseidon’s eyes across the feast and glared as she sipped her wine.

Poseidon dared give her a look of confusion before he sensed his child take their first breath. 

Poseidon portrayed calm and ease at the feast but his eyes, locked with Styx, were a hurricane of rage and silent threats to the goddess.

Styx merely scoffed and left to find the product of the broken oath.

She found herself in another hospital; where the first one, the mother had money and could afford a private room and a comfortable bed, this one was in a shared room and poor.

Styx raised an eyebrow and took in her surroundings. 

The lover was obviously not the sleeping, pregnant woman near the door.

Both the mother and the forbidden child were fast asleep; the mother curled on her side and facing towards the crib where the baby lay, her finger being held tightly by the little one’s hand as they slept. 

Even asleep, Styx could tell the character of this young woman was not that of Zeus' lover.

Styx walked over, her footsteps silent as she did so, and lifted the newborn into her arms.

As she was about to deliver her curse, her judgement, the baby opened her eyes.

Sea green, just like her fathers, and yet, so familiar…

There was something…

“Memories of future events. Memories that I lived even though I live here and now.” Perseleia had once told her.

Styx looked again at the babe in her arms, really looked, and found herself holding the goddess that was lost but had come back again.

“Oh, my sweet.” Styx mourned. “How I wish you could have a different fate, but you must pay for your father’s mistakes.”

Styx looked at the name on the hospital crib and sighed. 

“Perseus Leia Jackson, you are both a destroyer and a treasure. Because of your father, you shall be the child of the Great Prophecy. Because of his oath breaking, he will never know you have returned to him. No god will know you have returned until you know it yourself; they will look at you and be haunted. I am so sorry, little one.” Styx laid Perseus Leia Jackson back in her crib and stroked her cheek. 

She was thinking about leaving when she sensed someone else in the room, someone who arrived thinking they could stay her curse not knowing they were too late.

Styx had already cursed the child.

“My lady, please, do what you want with me, but please spare her!” Poseidon begged. 

“The great King of the Sea, reduced to begging.” Styx sneered. 

“Please! She’s my first daughter since-” Poseidon cut himself off. 

“Since who?” Styx scoffed. “You already broke the oath you made on your daughter’s name. You should have the balls to say her name. Or did you lose them when you sired a forbidden child?”

“She is my first daughter since Perseleia. Please! I cannot lose this little one.” Poseidon begged. 

The sleeping women and child were oblivious to the two deities in the room. 

None of the hospital staff were aware of the gods in their midst.

“No.” Styx said sharply.

“My Lady! Please! She’s just a baby! Have mercy on her!” Poseidon begged. 

“I cannot make an exception. Not even for her.” Styx said, the hatred in her voice softening to something akin to pity.

Poseidon collapsed to his knees and leaned against his trident as he fully realized the pain he was subjugating his daughter too.

“She’s just a child.” He said weakly.

“If you’re lucky, she’ll forgive you.” Styx said as she left the mortal hospital, the King of the Seas mourning his newborn daughter in her wake.

It was a year later when Styx felt her oath being broken another time. 

It was the King of the Gods, the Roman one this time, with the same woman.

Styx returned to the same hospital, finding Thalia asleep on a couch, the lover passed out on mortal drugs on the bed, and the newborn forbidden child in the crib. 

Styx read the name: Jason Alexander Grace.

Styx rolled her eyes at the name as she picked up the boy. 

“You are named for a man who fell out of Hera’s grace and another who spurned Hera during a contest for beauty. Your life will be tragic. Nothing you do will ever be good enough in the eyes of your father. You shall die how your namesakes did: either alone in the wake of your rotting life or by retribution of someone you wronged.” Styx gave the boy her lullaby curse and returned to her waters. 

Olympus was going to be interesting when the God King is found to be out of commission once more.

///

Styx set the hellhounds after Thalia as she tried to escape her fate; the twelve year old girl was stubborn and brave, but it would not save her. 

Styx will have her retribution.

Zeus will watch as the daughter he sired will die a painful and agonizingly slow death and he will be reminded that his actions have consequences, that not even daughters were safe from the sins of their fathers.

Styx watched as the Furies cracked their fiery whips and each held the girl in place for the hellhounds to bite and tear as they pleased; Thalia’s screams echoed to the sky yet Styx knew that Zeus had turned away from the sight, believing that it was easier to not watch as his daughter was punished for his mistake.

Styx knew that Zeus shuddered as he heard Thalia’s dying rasp. 

Styx raised her eyebrow in macabre curiosity as it was Poseidon, not Zeus, who turned the dying child into a pine tree. 

“Do you think that when he finds out, your King will spare your daughter?” Styx asked. 

Poseidon said nothing. 

“He will kill the mother and your daughter without hesitation. He did so once before, he would do so again.” Styx said. 

“He will not touch a hair on either of their heads.” Poseidon snapped. 

“Enjoy the few years of life your daughter has. She won’t have much left.” Styx melted into water and allowed herself to drain into the soil, down, down, down into the Underworld below. 

In the waters of her river, Styx pondered the implications.

The Athenide was back. 

The Athenide was a mortal.

The Athenide was a demigod.

There was a prophecy that a child of the elder brothers would save or destroy Olympus.

Thalia Alyssa Grace was now a tree; she would never reach adulthood and Jason Alexander Grace was being raised to be a soldier, a weapon, an instrument of Rome to appease a spurned wife and Queen.

The next in line for the prophecy should be Bianca and Nico di’Angelo yet Hades had hidden them away in the Lotus Eater’s hotel, locking them away where time cannot touch them, and where Zeus cannot find them; Bianca will stay twelve years old for a long time and Nico will stay ten until they are removed.

Perseus Leia Jackson would be seven by now, only nine years until she makes her choice.

Styx liked to think she would know what the Athenide would choose, but for now, she’d wait.

For now, she’ll entertain herself by going to the feasts, reminding everyone that not even the Kronides were above disrespecting her; besides, the feasts on Olympus have been so entertaining since Zeus is exiled from them. Poseidon, however, has gotten around his exile by not leaving the sea except for solstice meetings.

The gods knew of Thalia but they wondered what had happened to the second child of Zeus.

Hera would merely sip her wine and smirk, stating only that the child was taken care of.

Chapter Text

Percy hated boarding school. 

She hated that the administration thought she was a boy based on her name. 

She hated that the administration didn’t care enough to change it.

She hated the school uniforms.

She hated that she separated from her mother for an entire school year. 

And she hated that the administration was still going to make her room with a boy.

Percy curled up on her bed and drew in her notebook while she waited for the inevitable jerk who was going to be so happy he was sharing a room with a girl in the sixth grade.

She heard laughter out in the hall. 

She heard teasing getting louder and louder. 

She heard shuffling at the door and then it opened. 

It was a boy, but he was on crutches. 

Percy tilted her head at this boy.

He had curly brown hair and brown eyes like soil. He had acne. And he flinched under the jeers of the other students as he tried to move in. 

He could be a jerk for all she knew, but Percy hated bullies. 

“Hey! Knock it off or I’ll kick your ass!” Percy got up and stormed up to the door. 

“Oooo, Undertale has a girlfriend!” the teasing picked up. 

Percy didn’t wait for the boy to respond. 

She spent the next week in detention for punching a student, but Grover Underwood was now her friend. 

Maybe, just maybe, this year at Yancy wouldn’t be a total hell on earth.

It sure beat living with Gabe.

///

Corvus pondered the centuries he’s been alive just what came over him during the Bird Race to take flight; Corvus had known the rules of the race, he had known he wasn’t to take flight or else Apollo would lose his bride to be, and yet it felt as if someone had taken control of his wings and placed him on the tree branch. 

Apollo had assured him it was fine, that Corvus was still his sacred bird, but Corvus knew his lord’s heart yearned for his never-bride.

Apollo had even gone as far as to paint his white feathers black to honor his loyalty after alerting him to Coronis’ affair; the highest of honor that Apollo could grant him.

Corvus knew that when Apollo had the chance to compete with Athena and her scary owls for the Lady Athenide’s hand once more, he had to be prepared. 

So Corvus trained when he could.

Corvus would skitter across the ground, gaining speed and balance each time he did so; it didn’t matter what Athene had hooted at him, or what George and Martha hissed in amusement, Corvus would train his best so he would not fail Lord Apollo again.

Apollo was checking on one of his children in a place called Poughkeepsie and had given Corvus some leave and this is where Corvus would like to place the blame of those mean owls for what happened next. 

A mean old barn owl had hooted and teased him as he ran through the foliage and issued a challenge: another race between Corvus and the owls.

Corvus should have said no, he should have flapped his wings and flew back to Apollo’s side.

“What are you going to do?” The barn owl cawed. “Fly away?”

His feathers were ruffled and Corvus was now racing for his Lord and himself. 

That was how Corvus found himself racing a barn owl on the property of a boarding school thirty minutes away in Stanford leading to a broken wing, and with the abandonment of the barn owl, leaving Corvus at the mercy of cruel children who took glee in the abuse of a bird.

Corvus called out for help but the children mocked his cries, just as the gods had mocked his Lord at the race all those years ago. 

Except one.

She had roared at the other children with a protective rage. 

She had chased off the brutes and snarled like his Lord and his twin’s wolves. 

Her fingers were soft as she brushed his feathers gingerly, whispering coos and assuring him that it would be alright, that she would take care of him. 

Corvus opened an eye to see who his savior was and-

It couldn’t be!

She was dressed in the blue and grey school uniform but she had taken off her blue jacket and was wrapping Corvus up in it so he didn’t move his injured wing.

“Shhh, it’s going to be okay. I’ll take care of you.” She said, picking him up and cradling him like a baby hatchling.

Corvus couldn't believe it!

If the Athenide had returned, Apollo deserved to know… but if she was not the Lady, then Corvus could not disappoint his Lord again.

“How do we take care of a bird?!” Percy had burst into their shared dorm and shut the door with a slam. 

Grover jumped, barely severing the Iris Message to Chiron in time. 

“How-what-”

“You like nature. How do we take care of a bird?” Percy repeated herself. 

Grover had suspected Percy to be a half-blood the moment her scent started to turn less, for lack of a better term, revoltingly human and more… gentle and soft, like waves on a shore or sunlight on the canoe lake back at camp.

In fact, that was what his call to Chiron was about. 

But Grover took a look at his roommate, really looked at her, and wanted to put his head in his hands and ask all the gods what he had done to deserve Percy Jackson: she was disheveled, her jacket was off and wrapped around a… was that Apollo’s sacred bird???

“Percy… where did you find-” don’t say Corvus, don’t say Corvus! “-him?”

“Nancy was beating him up. You don’t have dyslexia, right? You could get bird books from the library or look up online how to take care of a bird and we could take care of him!”

Percy was petting the god of the sun’s sacred bird… Chiron needed to come to Yancy.

“I could read a bit and find out what to do?” Grover found himself agreeing-oh who was he kidding? Of course Grover was going to help Corvus. He didn’t want to get skinned alive like Marsayas. 

“See? I told you Grover would help us.” Percy smiled down at the bird as she set him on her bed. “I’m thinking if we get one of our suitcases to be his bed, he can hide and we won't get in trouble with the headmaster.”

Percy was already pulling out her suitcase from under her bed and putting some of her sweatshirts in to make a makeshift nest. 

Corvus was staring at him. 

Grover didn’t know what to do, so he waved and said hello.

You are not human.

“Can I take a look at your wing?” Grover asked, mimicking what Lee or Victoria did when they were seeing an injured camper.

You smell like a satyr.

“I’m Percy’s friend.” Grover gingerly, because this bird was more dangerous than dynamite and gasoline in the hands of the Stolls, unwrapped Percy’s jacket from the bird.

“Grover is my only friend.” Percy said, though it was meant to be a lite joke, Grover could sense the loneliness rolling off her in waves; no one wanted to play with her as a little kid, everyone thought she was too weird because she couldn’t read the same or sit still or how her mind would wander and she’d imagine “mythical” creatures as she daydreamed. She turned from her nest making to smile at Grover and Corvus. “He’s amazingly good with animals.” 

You are protecting her.

“Yeah, Percy is my best friend.” Grover answered Corvus honestly; in the short time Grover had known her, Percy had become more than a charge, she had become a friend. 

He could sense Percy’s shock, her surprise at being considered anyone’s best friend before she pushed those feelings down and put a sweater in the suitcase as well. 

“Your wing is definitely hurt, but I think we could make him a sling and keep an eye on him until it’s better.” Grover said.

Just call for my Lord and I shall be fine.

“Don’t worry,” Percy picked up Corvus and placed him in the nest she made. “We’ll take care of you!” 

It was surprisingly easy to perform Satyr magic to help heal up Corvus. 

With Percy and Grover in band together, Grover was free to play his pipes openly in front of Percy and perform the healing right under her nose. 

When doing homework, Corvus would stay on Percy’s lap and she would stroke his feathers as Grover helped her struggle to read the questions. 

Throughout it all, Corvus would glare at him like Grover had done something that personally offended him. 

When Chiron had arrived and “convinced” the Latin teacher to leave, Grover suggested they take Corvus to “Mr. Brunner” and see if he could help. 

Percy was hesitant at first, which Grover could sense it had to do with her previous experience with teachers, but he couldn’t reassure her unless she told him.

After class, with Grover’s encouragement, Percy and him had come clean to Mr. Brunner about the bird they were keeping in their dorm and nursing back to health. 

“And, when you say a bird, you mean-” Mr. Brunner said.

“A raven.” “A pretty bird.” Grover and Percy said at the same time.

“Ah, and what is this pretty bird’s name? I assume you two have gotten attached.” Mr. Brunner said with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Poe.” “Corvus.” Percy and Grover said at the same time. 

“That is not his name! Poe is a sweet boy and poet! I did not agree on that name.” Percy protested. 

Grover could see the moment Chiron understood exactly why Grover called him in. 

“Corvus is the genus.” Grover defended himself.

“You mean to tell me that you have, and are nursing back to health, Corvus?” Mr. Brunner looked like he was getting a headache.

“His name is Poe. I found him. I named him.” Percy crossed her arms. 

“My apologies. You found a raven and you are nursing him back to health in your dorms. Correct?” Mr. Brunner asked. 

“He is a sweetheart and if I’m going to be in trouble for keeping him, then Nancy Bobofit should get in trouble for hurting him!” Percy insisted. 

Grover met Mr. Brunner’s gaze and had a conversation based on facial expressions that went like this: 

Apollo’s bird?

Yes.

…

…

Gods’ help me.

“Bird watching was an old hobby of mine, would you please bring the bird to me? A raven is a wild bird and would require more aid than what two students with great hearts could provide.” Mr. Brunner said gently. 

Percy deflated but nodded and left to return to the dorms. 

When she was out of sight, Chiron dropped the Mr. Brunner facade. 

“She’s definitely a demigod.” Chiron said, sighing. “You have your work cut out with this one.”

“Sir, I have a feeling about her,” Grover began but he stopped himself. “Not just as a friend, but as a protector: there is something more to her.”

“She does look like… there are many gods in the sea. For her sake, pray that she is the daughter of someone like Lady Benthesikyme or Psamanthe or another nymph of the sea.” Chiron said. "Oh, Apollo has been so upset since his disappearance."

Grover got a chill as he took in his words. 

“She doesn’t know. Not yet.” Grover said. “She draws but she thinks that it’s just her imagination, that the creatures she draws are just a fascination with mythical creatures.” 

Chiron rubbed his chin as he pondered the words. 

“Perhaps a minor god… if she were of someone- she would have been found out beforehand.” 

“The scent she had before was so nauseating compared to what it is now. Her mother must have known something.” Grover said. 

“I will contact Miss Jackson’s mother and let her know what is going on, that you and I will keep an eye on her and protect her as needed.” Chiron said before his gaze turned to the door of the classroom.

Grover turned just in time to see the doorknob turn and Percy walk through with Corvus in her arms. 

“Thank you, Miss Jackson. May I see the patient?” Mr. Brunner held out his hands for the sacred bird. 

Corvus seemed annoyed at no longer being in Percy’s arms. 

“Ah, yes, an injured wing. You have done well for your lack of knowledge, but for him to make a full recovery, we will have to alert the proper authorities so he can get the help he needs.” Mr. Brunner said kindly. 

Percy tried to keep her face neutral but Grover could sense the storm of emotions inside her. 

“Oh, Miss Jackson, don’t fret. He knows that you have done your best but he has to go somewhere where he can be properly taken care of.” Mr. Brunner said gently. 

Grover saw Percy nod in agreement but he could tell she didn’t want to agree. 

“How about I keep him with me, I’ll call the proper number, and we’ll turn him over to animal rescue together?” Mr. Brunner offered. 

///

Apollo had not expected to find Corvus at a boarding school, let alone with Chiron and a Satyr of all beings. 

“Corvus!” Apollo held his arm out for the bird before biting his tongue as he remembered the bird’s broken wing. Apollo picked up Corvus from Chiron’s lap and pulled him into his arms. “What happened to you? Who shall I smite?”

“Mr. Corvus seemed to have been a victim of playground bullies. He has been in the care of a couple of my students; Mr. Underwood is here today, Miss Jackson however, has been sentenced to detention by our English teacher.” Chiron reported. 

So that explains Satyr…

“I’m still learning, but I hope that the healing magic didn’t cause him too much pain.” The Satyr curled in on himself and took a step behind Chiron. 

Apollo knew why the Satyr was wary but as far as Apollo was aware, this Satyr hasn't yelled at his sister or declared Apollo an inferior musician or planned to woo his... his wife. His wonderful, lovely, and very dead, secret wife.

“You have my thanks. I shall make a full examination of Corvus and determine that for myself.” Apollo raised an eyebrow to the Satyr. 

Corvus croaked at him.

Chiron cleared his throat. 

“Thank you for finding and sheltering my Corvus. What would you like as recompense?” Apollo asked. 

“My friend, she was the one who found him. She has trouble with her dyslexia. Could you perhaps help with that? Or give some tools to help?” Grover asked. 

Apollo snapped his fingers. 

“Done. Now, I have to see to my bird.” Apollo left and appeared back in his temple on Olympus. 

The Muses, upon seeing Apollo return with Corvus, all surrounded him and demanded to know where the raven had snuck off to, like the older sisters they were. 

“He was assaulted by the most cruel of mortals.” Apollo embellished. 

“Oh no!” Melpomene cooed. 

“I bet you fought them off bravely.” Calliope stroked his head feathers as Corvus soaked up all the attention. 

“I must heal him up and then you can have your most captive audience back.” Apollo said. 

“You mean you haven't healed him already?” Clio put her hands on her hips. 

“Apollo, you heal sweet, brave Corvus right now!” Urania demanded. 

“You stopped me!” Apollo protested. 

“Not an excuse!” Thalia snapped at him. 

“Oh, poor Corvus, having to serve a cruel master.” Erato said. 

“Just the cruelest.” Euterpe agreed.

“What would your Twin say?” Polyhymnia asked. 

“I’m sure Artemis wouldn’t be too thrilled about this.” Terpsichore said. 

“You are blocking me from healing my bird.” Apollo said. 

Corvus croaked in laughter as Apollo was bullied into healing his bird by his elder sisters. 

“There, he’s healed. Can I trust you to watch over him?” Apollo asked, handing Corvus over to Euterpe. 

“I suppose.” She sighed dramatically as Apollo left to continue with his duties. 

“Who found him?” Clio asked. 

Apollo paused. 

He hadn’t met the girl, but he had met the Satyr. 

And Chiron was the one to hand over Corvus.

“It was a mortal child. She found him and nursed him back to health. Probably a demigod due to the Satyr protector beside her.” Apollo said. 

The Muses sighed as they cooed over Corvus, Apollo forgotten, and began drafting a dramatic ballad of the whole ordeal.

A demigod had found his bird…

Apollo didn’t know what to think. 

As he appeared back in his sun chariot, the horses nickered and complained once more. It was the same thing it has been for the last thousands of years and before that when Apollo had taken them over: Apollo wasn’t as nice as Lady Rhodes or… or Perseleia.

“Oh hush. I’m sure that Lady Rhodes would be happy to visit you soon.” Apollo said. 

The sun horses snorted and swished their tails as they proceeded to complain about Apollo’s subpar treatment of them and how they wanted Lady Rhodes and… Perseleia to care for them instead. 

Apollo let them. 

They’d continue for a while. 

Then it would turn winter again. 

And then the sun horses would once again get to spend a winter being doted upon Lady Rhodes while Apollo drove the sun. 

///

Hades was furious. 

Everyone was so concerned about the theft of Zeus’ Master Bolt yet no one would be concerned if he spoke of how his Helm of Darkness was also stolen.

Zeus, naturally, blamed Poseidon for the theft. 

Hades scoffed on his throne as his brothers fought; theft was not Poseidon’s style. That was Hermes’ domain and the god furiously denied involvement. 

Dionysus had the demigods leave and return to camp shortly before everything went to hell. Why Zeus wasn’t looking at the demigods present, Hades had no idea. Then again, Hades was King of the Underworld, not a god of mysteries and detectives.

“Keep it close. Thieves will steal it.” Perseleia had a far away look in her eyes when she first told him.

It was a whisper, barely even a thought then, but now Hades understood what his departed niece had spoken of that time. 

The same thief who stole the Bolt had to have stolen the Helm. 

Hades gazed at Poseidon’s Trident, firmly in his hands and not stolen. 

Of course no one would steal the Trident; Poseidon never let it out of his grasp. 

Zeus however, was arrogant enough to think no one would steal from a king.

Hades…

He had no excuse. 

It was a slip of judgement to leave his Helm in the throne room but Demeter had been distracted with her one time a year her grandchildren don't "die" and return to the Underworld in under six minutes and Persephone had pulled him into a closet…

Hades had discreetly sent his Furies out to search for it and report back once he and his family returned to the Underworld.

“Are you sure?” Hades gripped the quartz throne as Alecto spoke her news; golden ichor dripped down the sharp, jagged slabs of his throne in rivers of gold before solidifying as deep rubies.

“The child has to be a secret child of your brother Poseidon. The resemblance to- to him is uncanny.” Alecto stumbled but Hades raised an eyebrow. 

“To Poseidon? Or someone else?” Hades asked; something about this child had unsettled Alecto.

It was no secret that Perseleia was greatly missed by the gods. 

Alecto had a fondness for the goddess who came up with some of the punishments with Persephone and was one of the many who grieved her disappearance (not death. No one dared called it a death.)

“Every child of Posiedon looks like their sister,” Alecto deflected, tried to convince the King and Queen. Or was she trying to convince herself?

“Yet this one gave you pause…” Hades tapped his fingers on the throne. “Do you think she stole it?”

“The girl has no idea that she even is a demigod. She is ignorant of our world and the vile creature that is her stepfather covers her scent so well even I nearly missed her.” Alecto reported. 

“What are you thinking, my love?” Persephone reached over and took his hand in hers. 

“Our psychopomp warned me of this. She spoke of thieves stealing the Helm so long ago.” Hades said. “Alecto, my tightly wound brother will murder first, act questions later. I want you to officially find the school she goes to and check for evidence of a thief.” 

“And unofficially, sire?” Alecto said. 

“Do with her as you see fit.” Hades said. 

Alecto nodded and flapped her wings. 

///

When Mr. Klein had a nervous breakdown and wouldn’t return for the second half of the year, Percy was not in the least bit upset. 

There was just a weird vibe around him, he was vocal about how he both loved and hated the school uniforms on the girls, he made comments about how he liked girls’ hair long (which led to Percy cutting her hair to her chin and Grover freaking out as he tried to even it out), and Percy was glad his replacement was some fifty ish year old woman from Georgia. 

Grover was sacred to death of her, but Percy thought the leather jacket and the Harley in the teacher’s lot was pretty cool. 

She certainly did not seem like the other teachers  who, without even listening to Percy’s side, took Nancy’s side blindly. She held her class like she was a judge and the class were on trial, letting them determine the verdict she’d deliver. 

Mrs. Dodds, like Mr. Brunner, was the only other teacher who understood she had disabilities and was willing to help Percy overcome them. 

Under Mr. Klein, Percy was barely scraping a D in math. 

With Mrs. Dodds tutelage and guidance, Percy was now seeing her first B. 

///

“What do you see?” Sally asked her daughter.

Percy looked up at the statue of Perseus holding aloft the head of the Gorgon.

“Perseus. That’s who you named me after.” Percy looked up at her mother. 

Percy held her mom’s hand as she looked up at the hero. 

“Hmm. I did. Do you know why I named you after him?”

Sally smiled and nodded. 

Percy shook her head. 

“Because his mother, Princess Danaë, was all alone and then one day, she had her son. She named him “her destroyer” because she hoped he would escape and have a better life than she did. Because, when Danaë and Perseus were thrown into the sea to be killed, she prayed for deliverance for her child. In the chest, Danaë would hold her baby close and whisper, “hold fast! Brave the storm that was meant to break us for we are unbreakable!” Sally whispered dramatically to her daughter. 

Percy giggled as her mother told the story. 

“Eventually, they washed up on an island and there was a mean king who wanted to marry Danaë and get rid of her son or her true love, the fisherman who saved them. He tricked Perseus into going after the Gorgon Medusa, hoping that Perseus would die in the task so he could have Danaë all to himself. But despite everything, Perseus endured. Perseus overcame the odds and was able to save his mother, a princess along the way, and eventually became the one of the few heroes to have a happy ending.” Sally said. 

Percy scrunched her nose as she thought about having to do so many impossible things. 

“Who else had a happy ending?” Percy asked. 

“Well, there was Ariadne, but she had her heart broken before she found hers. There was Odysseus and Penelope but they were separated for twenty years.” Then her mom grew serious. “There is power in a name, Percy. When I named you after Perseus, it was because I hope and pray that you have a better childhood, a better life than I did and that despite all your challenges, that you are able to overcome them and find yourself a happy ending. Do you understand?”

Percy nodded. 

“Besides, you are my Percy. I don’t think Ody or Penny or Aria have the same flare as Percy Jackson.” Sally pulled her daughter close and kissed her dark curls. 

“But would I still be your starfish if I had a different name?” Percy asked. 

“You will always be my starfish!” Sally promised her. 

Percy blinked and the memory faded away.

It was six years later. 

There was no statue of Perseus.

Her mother was not with her. 

She was on a school field trip with the rest of the sixth graders at Yancy.

“-the only daughter of the goddess Athena, while born unconventionally just like her mother, sprung fully formed from the Spring of Poseidon after olives fell into the spring. She became a muse to many artists and sculptors due to her tragic ending.” Mr. Brunner said. “This painting, Loyalty’s Rest, you may find a resemblance to that one Star Wars movie. What was it…” 

“Revenge of the Sith?”

“Thank you. Yes, the funeral scene for the late Queen Amidala was heavily inspired by this painting. You can see she wears the blues and greens of Poseidon’s waves while olive blossoms are woven through her hair that inspired artists from the goddess’ death.”

Percy looked at the painting and felt a strange melancholy she could not place.

“How could a goddess just die?” She asked. 

Mr. Brunner looked upset at the question.

“No one knows. Some philosophers say due to the Trojan War, and if you recall from our unit on the Iliad, all the betrayal, the switching sides, the lack of loyalty to one’s soldiers or their oaths, must have been too much for her. Other’s theorized that because many great demigods died during the war, that domain was weakened as well. There was no body to be recovered according to myth and all paintings of her funeral are said to be a vision from the Oracle of Delphi from Apollo himself.” Percy caught a hint of grief in Mr. Brunner’s voice. “Now, your assignment is to find a piece that speaks to you. Go, and let your pens flow.”

Percy and Grover spread out with their class and came in front of another painting of the goddess.

“Want to do this one?” Grover asked. 

It was a painting of two figures, a man and a woman dressed in fine Greek robes with the woman on a horse that looked like a sun, making their way through a beautiful field of olive trees. The woman was leaning towards the man, her dark hair flowing in the wind with a garland of white blossoms on her hair. The man had long golden curls with a laurel wreath in his hair. His bow was around his shoulders and his quiver at his side. His sword was sheathed but his tunic and robes had the faint pink of blood around the edges. The man was looking up at the woman with absolute adoration.

Looking closely, Percy could imagine that the lady was going to kiss the man with her but the horse was trying to keep them apart while the owls in the trees looked ready to swoop. 

“Sure.” Percy said, staring at the painting; what was this unfamiliar feeling? It couldn’t be longing… “What’s the painting called?”

“Oh, right. Truth’s Rescue of Loyalty. ” Grover said. “So Apollo’s rescue of Perseleia from Heracles.” 

One of Percy’s favorite things about her friend was that he never judged her for her dyslexia. He never got upset when she asked him to help read some assignments when it was a really bad day.

“I’ll read the questions when you’re ready.” 

Well, Mr. Brunner did want to know how a painting spoke to her. 

Percy shrugged as she started writing. 

Chiron knew Percy Jackson was a demigod based off of Grover’s description but coming face to face with a eerily familiar face of the lost goddess was not how Chiron expected the young satyr’s assignment to go.

Perhaps she was just another child of Apollo. Perhaps her mother also looked similar to the goddess to tempt the Lord and behold: it’s a girl…

Oh who was he kidding? 

Even a blind man would be able to tell that Percy Jackson resembled the King of the Seas.

He just hoped that Percy would enjoy her ignorance before she was thrust into a world of monsters.

He promised Sally Jackson he wouldn’t let anything harm her on his watch.

Alecto watched as Nancy dumped her sandwich in the satyr’s lap and just as Percy was about to get up to avenge her friend, the water from the fountain reached up and pulled the red headed girl in. 

Alecto felt a smidge of pride as Percy's abilities were unlocking but then she tampered that down. 

Soon, they would come for her. 

Soon, they would know.

Soon, not even a Fury or Chiron would be enough to dissuade them.

“PERCY PUSHED ME!” Nancy screeched. 

Mrs. Dodds, once Nancy was out of the fountain, assured her that punishment would be dealt with. 

Alecto then pulled Percy back into the museum; the satyr insisted it was him who pushed Nancy but Alecto made him stay back. 

Alecto brought Percy into the gift shop and bought a shirt for Nancy to wear.

“Tell me about what happened.” Mrs. Dodds said. 

“She’s been bullying us all year and-I was just so mad and… I don’t know how she ended up in the fountain but I am sorry for losing my temper.” Percy looked genuinely upset.

Alecto had seen the various crimes committed unto Percy in her math class alone; she had no doubt there was more than just the one class. 

“Is that all you want to confess?” Alecto asked; this child was not aware that Chiron, a Fury, or a satyr were around her, there was not a chance in the Underworld that Percy had stolen the Helm of Darkness or the Master Bolt.

Percy looked down in guilt. “I have an illegal candy smuggling ring.”

Alecto had to stifle a smile.  “And?”

“I didn’t read Tom Sawyer. I listened to a YouTube summary and wrote my essay on that.”  Percy confessed. 

Alecto decided this child did not steal anything; the Fury had experience in punishing guilty parties and Percy Jackson was not guilty of that. 

“Well, you still summarized the book so I don’t see a reason to take it up with Mr. Niccol.” Alecto said. 

“What about the candy ring?” Percy asked. 

“What candy ring?” Alecto winked as she handed the shirt to Percy. “Give this to Nancy, tell her you are sorry for pushing her into the fountain, and I will consider this even.”

As they exited the museum, Alecto saw Chiron studying her with Percy as the satyr looked nervous.

Thunder sounded and it started to rain.

Alecto unfurled a leathery wing and covered Percy Jackson from the droplets.

When Percy commented on her nice umbrella, Alecto knew it was the right thing to keep her in ignorance.

Chapter Text

Alecto went to Chiron’s office and found him speaking with the satyr already. 

Upon her arrival into the room, Grover tensed and shuffled behind Chiron for protection. 

Alecto merely ignored the goat. 

“This meeting is about Miss Percy Jackson, correct?” Alecto took off her leather jacket and draped it around the chair before sitting in it. “I will be a part of this meeting.” 

“Alecto.” Chiron said, warning the Fury. 

“My boss has no quarrel with Miss Jackson’s father. Thalia Grace’s father, though… Styx had her retribution. My sisters and I were merely there to keep the hounds on track.” Alecto shrugged and crossed her legs. 

Grover flinched behind Chiron. 

“And why would your boss be interested in Miss Jackson?” Chiron, though he had his hands folded in his lap, hid the bronze sword he was going to give Percy should Alecto have struck at the museum. 

“Miss Jackson is a bright student. The books she received at the beginning of the semester can only do so much to help with dyslexia. I find this school lacking in the proper accommodations.” Alecto said. 

“You have come here to talk about accommodations for dyslexia?” Chiron raised an eyebrow. 

“Whatever Thunder britches thinks, Percy Jackson has done nothing of the sort.” Alecto said, defending her student. “She is smart, she is clever, she is kind, and most importantly, she had no idea the theft occurred. If he were rational instead of paranoid, he would understand that.” 

“But why are you here?” Grover said, growing a spine. 

Alecto glared at the satyr.

“I came here on an assignment. Now I have my report, I will be done at the end of the semester. Nothing to be concerned with.” Alecto said. 

“A Kindly One is something to be concerned about.” Grover muttered. 

“Now, now. Miss Jackson isn’t ready for what is to come. I say we let her enjoy her ignorance while she still can before she is exposed to the harsh reality.” Chiron said. 

Miss Jackson? Ignorant? 

Once Alecto had gotten past her defenses, Miss Jackson confessed her hatred, her disgust, her fear of her step-father. Of all the horrible things she wished upon him. All of the things she wished she could do to get rid of him, if only to protect her mother.

Alecto scoffed. 

“Do you have an alternative opinion?” Chiron asked. 

“You have no idea, do you?” Alecto smiled in disbelief. 

Grover, apparently, suspected what Alecto knew. 

“Miss Jackson is already aware of monsters. She lives with one.” Alecto said. 

“Nevertheless, the summer solstice deadline will have to be resolved without her. It is not her responsi-”

The sound of a book dropping on the floor set the three on alert. 

Chiron had sprung from his chair and brought his bow out. Alecto’s wings fluttered behind her body and her claws elongated, sharp and bloody. 

There was no one in the hall, nor the classroom, nor in any of the empty rooms nearby.

Alecto thought she caught the scent of Miss Jackson at one door, but her scent was all over the school. 

“My nerves hadn’t been right since the solstice.” Chiron shouldered his bow. 

“You should go, Underwood.” Alecto said, her claws returning to nails and her wings flickering once more to look like her sweater vest.

“Alecto is right. You have a long day of exams tomorrow.” Chiron said kindly. 

“Don’t remind me.” Grover groaned but left. 

When they were back in his office, Chiron turned on her. 

“Speak truly: what does Hades want with Percy Jackson?” Chiron asked, sternly. 

“He wanted to see if Percy Jackson was capable of theft.” Alecto said.

“And?” Chiron asked. 

Alecto had seen bruises on her arms after spring break, when Percy’s mother had to work at her third job and Percy tried to steal some pizza from her step-father to hold off the hunger. Alecto had rubbed some ambrosia laced lotion on the deep purple welts and pressed ice to the poor girl’s skin. 

Alecto put her leather jacket back on and put her hands on her hips. 

“What do you think?” Alecto snapped. 

“I think Miss Jackson is capable of many things, but she is no thief. She is too gentle, too kind, too honest for the deception it would take.” Chiron said. 

“Then you know my answer.” Alecto turned and left Chiron to prepare for tomorrow’s exams. 

The next day, Alecto knew that the headmaster had informed Percy she would not be invited back next year due to the incessant bullying from Nancy but that was last week; so why was Percy so upset?

When the exam was done and her class dismissed, Alecto called Percy back. 

Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. 

“Miss Jackson, what’s wrong?” Alecto said, drawing on the southern drawl. 

Percy only sniffed and tears fell from her cheeks. 

Alecto grabbed a tissue and started wiping her tears away. 

“I don’t want to go back! I can’t go back!” She started to hyperventilate. 

Alecto may have started off being kind to this child out of respect for her dead sister, but she legitimately grew fond of the child. 

Alecto pulled her into a hug and though Percy couldn’t see it, her wings wrapped around her too. 

“I’m going to give you my phone number. I want you to give it to your mother and tell her Alecto Dodds told you to give it to her. I want her to call should your step-father become more than she can take. Or I want you to call me yourself.” Alecto held the shaking girl and thought of how her sisters would enjoy a hunt once more. “Okay?” 

Percy nodded and Alecto cupped her cheek. 

“Okay.” 

Alecto wrote down the numbers and watched as Percy slipped them into her pocket. 

“Thank you for believing me.” Percy said before slipping away. 

“Of course, Gentle One.” Alecto didn’t know where the epithet came from, it was always used in reference to Perseleia, but Percy was so gentle, so tender hearted, perhaps Alecto was feeling nostalgic or perhaps it was a slip of the tongue as she gave Percy the title. 

Alecto watched as she grew smaller and smaller in the ground of students leaving Yancy Academy. 

She watched the girl get on the bus with Grover Underwood trailing behind her. 

When she couldn’t see the bus anymore, Alecto shed her disguise, and returned to the Underworld to deliver her report to her King.

///

Percy had thought Grover was growing more and more strange by the minute. 

He thought he was supposed to protect her, he had a summer address, he wanted to meet her mom…

And then the bus broke down. 

It was sweltering so Percy got off with the other passengers while the driver tried to fix the engine. 

There, across the highway, was a fruit stand with three old ladies; one was knitting one sock, another was knitting another sock, and the third held a pair of shears. 

They didn’t seem like they were scary or dangerous, so Percy had no idea why Grover was so insistent she get back on the bus. 

Grover was dragging her away when Percy looked back and saw the third lady cut the thread. 

Percy thought she could hear the snip across four lanes of traffic but that was impossible. 

She started to feel nauseous and her stomach lurched and cramped so bad, she nearly threw up on the side of the road as sharp pain began to feel like it was slashing at her stomach.

“She cut the thread. She cut the thread.” Grover kept muttering, ushering her back to their seats. 

Percy kept her eyes closed as another wave of nausea washed over her. 

They weren't even ten minutes into the drive and Percy wanted to crawl under the tires and let it run over her. 

“I feel sick.” She clutched her friend and he hurriedly gave her a barf bag.

“Oh gods, why don’t they ever make it past sixth grade?!” Grover panicked. 

“You’re not helping.” Percy grimaced as her stomach lurched as the bus did. 

Grover sighed and Percy could tell he did not want to have this conversation. 

“You’re not safe. I need to take you home and make sure nothing else comes after you!” Grover said. 

It took everything in Percy to turn and look at him. 

“Is this what you do mister “protector?” or did my mom ask you to do this?” Percy winced as the pain subsided. 

“Your mom-”

Percy snorted. 

“-knows I’m protecting you, but she needs to know what happened. I have to talk to your mom.” Grover continued. 

The last thing Percy wanted was to bring Grover home. Not because of the general weirdness happening, but because of him.

“Fine.” Percy relented. 

Grover did not relax but instead watched the other passengers like they would attack her. 

“Scale of one to ten: how bad are the ladies at the fruit stand? They’re not part of the mob are they?” Percy asked. 

Grover instead looked like he was debating the flowers to place on her coffin. 

“Sunflowers and daisies.” Percy said to relieve the tension. 

“What?” Grover looked at her like she lost her mind. 

“You just looked like you were planning my funeral arrangements. I like sunflowers and daisies.” Percy said.

“You have the worst humor.” Grover groaned. 

“I beg to differ.”  Percy said.

Percy had ditched Grover at the bus terminal while he was in the bathroom. 

She felt horrible, however, since it was a choice of showing Grover her home life and exposing him to Gabe… Percy hoped Grover would forgive her.

The taxi dropped her off on the edge of her street but Percy took a long detour to find the building’s fire escape.

She carried her suitcase up the flights and left it outside of her bedroom window before escaping the rest of the way to the roof with her notebook. 

Percy loved the roof. 

The pigeons were friendly and didn’t peck her. Some even let her pet them. 

Percy drew them a lot over the years she’s come up here and sometimes, if she squinted, the way the pigeons sat resembled a horse outline.

Percy made her way over to where she made a little hiding place for herself and the pigeons and started drawing. 

Percy started drawing the pigeons, but somehow they morphed into a pegasus atop the rooftop. When Percy realized what she had drawn, she looked up and… no, there were only pigeons. 

But there was that one incident in second grade where she was found on the roof of the school after following what she thought was a pegasus. That had scared the teachers and they immediately put her in sessions with the school therapist thinking she was a danger to herself but upon hearing she was following a pegasus, she was written off as having an “overactive imagination to compensate for her inattentiveness brought on by her ADHD” and she hadn’t thought about it since. But this black pegasus she had drawn looked like the one she thought she saw that day. 

Percy tossed those thoughts from her mind as she opened a new, blank page and started drawing again; this time, it was her math and Latin teachers. Mr. Brunner looked the way he did on tournament day: eyes bright with glee as he held his xiphos aloft, bidding students to begin their Latin review. Mrs. Dodds was the way she was at the museum: her leather jacket over her sweater and her hair cropped to her chin. 

When Percy was done drawing, she blinked. 

Why had she given Mrs. Dodds wings?

Why were they leathery and clawed like bats and not feathered like birds?

Why was she still drawing pegasi when she knew they didn’t exist?

It’s because you wish they were real!

“Shut up.” Percy mumbled to herself. 

You wish they were real the same way someone would rescue you and your mother from him.

Her turbulent emotions all calmed when her mother climbed on the roof.

In her mother’s arms, Percy could pretend they were alright, that it was just her and her mom, that pegasus were real, that there was no monster in the apartment below.

In her relief of being home, and in the weirdness Grover had, Percy forgot about Mrs. Dodds’ phone number in her pocket.

///

Lee was the healer on duty when the newest demigod arrived in pajamas with a bloody horn in her hand and an unconscious satyr on her back. He assisted Chiron in cleaning off the blood and mud and wrapping her head (he’d have to check for a concussion when she was awake) before cleaning up the supplies and coming up with a treatment plan.

“Lee, are you busy? Who’s she, another sister?” Will, the youngest of Lee’s siblings, peaked around the door.

“Just finishing up. She might be, or she might not. Either way, she’s going to need someone to watch over her until she wakes up. Can you do that for me while I put the supplies away?” Lee knew Will would jump at the opportunity to be involved in the infirmary.

Will nodded vigorously and grinned, showing off his missing baby teeth. 

“Good boy.” Lee left the room. 

When he came back, he found the girl still asleep but Will was sitting next to her; sparkly star stickers were now across her face as he was whispering about how the stars will help her get better quickly.

Oh yeah, Lee thought, Will would be a good healer one day.

Annabeth had been restless since the night the unconscious demigod arrived; there was an itch she could not scratch, some sort of invisible string that seemed to nag at her and her siblings had set her on edge during the evening, so much so that she had to go to Chiron and be assured that nothing devastating was going to happen. 

Then she arrived. 

Grover in one arm, a bloody horn in the other; if it weren’t for the fact that she was Annabeth’s age, she would have assumed that one of the gods decided to play dress up and pretend to be twelve years old.

The itch, the feeling that something was happening, the tug of the invisible string, it all went quiet with the girl on the porch.

“She’s the one! She must be!” Annabeth’s excitement dampened when the girl passed out on the porch. 

“Hush Annabeth, let’s get her inside.” Chiron had said before shooing her away. 

Annabeth snuck into the infirmary while Lee was out to just observe, that’s all. 

The girl, the red blood leaking through the bandages now confirmed that this girl was mortal, had her head bandaged: head wound, concussion, dried blood around the ear indicates bleeding from the ears, Annabeth would expect the girl to have severe nausea for a couple of days along with dizzy spells and vision problems. 

Annabeth watched as the girl drooled in her sleep while muttering about barn animals… possible farm girl? No, that wasn’t right. Grover was in the city at a boarding school, she was most likely a city kid. 

Unless she was dreaming about goats and satyrs? 

Demigod dreams were weird. 

She opened her eyes once and Annabeth asked what was going on with the solstice but she passed out again and Lee told her to go to breakfast.

Annabeth was curious about who this demigod’s parent was; it had to be someone important or related to the reasons the gods were tense if Chiron himself went to observe the girl. 

“So, who do you think the parent is?” Malcolm asked as they sat back down at their mother’s table. 

“She’s got the dark hair and green eyes, she could be an Apollo camper or she could belong to Aphrodite.” Annabeth said, a feeling nagging at her, insisting she was wrong. 

“You don’t think so?” Bea asked. 

“Not really. There’s… I don’t know.” Annabeth couldn’t explain it and there was no evidence as to why she felt differently, but it was there. 

“Well, no one will know for sure until the kid is claimed.” Bea said.

“Do you know how she came here? It was during that storm, right?” Malcolm asked. 

“Grover said she fought the Labyrinth’s beast and he’s keeping the horn for safekeeping until she wakes up.” Annabeth said, jealousy flaring up that the new kid had the chance to fight such a monster. 

The amphitheater went quiet and then there were groans and various complaints about how a newbie got the best monster.

“Damn, kid’s got moxie.” Bea said, eating her breakfast burrito.

Grover was passing by, carrying a plate that was probably for the girl in the infirmary, and said something that had shut the entire camp down. 

“She watched her mom die in front of her. Please don’t bring that up when she wakes up.” Grover asked. 

What jealousy Annabeth felt quickly turned bitter; she knew she wasn’t Athena’s favorite, none of her siblings could ever compete with someone long gone, but Annabeth couldn’t think of how she’d feel if she watched Athena die in front of her. She knew her father and stepmother would get no pity from her.

“Oh poor thing.” Selina grimaced in sympathy from her table.

Some of the campers with healthier relationships with their mortal parents turned really somber. The others who didn’t have such relationships, like Luke and Annabeth, didn’t really understand why someone would be so upset; mortal parents did nothing but let you down.

Annabeth didn’t feel like eating her breakfast and ended up excusing herself to go play cards up at the Big House.

Mr. D looked the way he always did: eye sore of tiger print Hawaiian shirts, Bermuda shorts, looking like some squatter at a Vegas casino (not that Annabeth had ever been to Vegas), and with a beer belly that was mostly a coke belly since he was forced to be sober.

They played Go Fish with Chiron and it wasn’t until the second round that Annabeth realized Mr. D had coaxed her into an impromptu therapy session after she was venting about her father and stepmother again. 

“Well played.” Annabeth said.

“Who me? I just lost Go Fish.” Mr. D shrugged. 

“I know what you’re doing.” Annabeth said. 

“And what am I doing?” Mr. D asked. 

“Play therapy. You’re distracting me with play while getting me to talk about what is bothering me.” Annabeth frowned. 

“It worked.” Mr. D said. “You can’t keep it all bottled up and you really need more friends outside of Luke. He’s going to leave for college at the end of summer and it’s not healthy to be alone like you are.” 

“I’m not alone. I have my siblings!” Annabeth said.

“You are in a position of authority. Someone else.” Mr. D pointed out.

Annabeth couldn’t think of anyone.

Selina helped her with her curly hair but Annabeth rarely wanted her on her team for capture the flag. 

Clarisse and she were sparring partners but more often than not, were against each other. 

Katie and the other Demeter campers, when paired for activities or chores, would complain together about not being their mothers’ favorite children.

“You see my point? You need more friends. Everyone you just thought of right now, you are thinking of them in a strategic way; how they can benefit you. You can’t do that with friends.” 

Annabeth groaned. 

“I don’t like this conversation.” She tossed her cards down at the table.

“Mr. Brunner?!” Annabeth heard a voice she had never heard before and turned to see the camper who was in a coma the past couple of days up and about.

“Ah, Miss Jackson! I am afraid that was a pseudonym. My real name is Chiron.” Chiron told her. Then Chiron turned to Annabeth and gestured her forward. “This young lady helped nurse you back to health. Annabeth Chase, this is Percy Jackson. Could you go check if Cabin Eleven has a bunk ready?” 

They wouldn’t. There were too many unclaimed for there to be any space but a spot on the floor.

Annabeth stood and took stock of the new camper. 

She was small, no muscle or anything to show she had ever been trained or held a sword before. She had dark hair and watery green eyes. At first glance, Annabeth thought she could be another Aphrodite camper; Selina had the black hair, Mitchell had the sea foam green eyes; but there was something that told Annabeth she wasn’t. She looked similar, if younger, than the tapestries Annabeth saw in her mother’s temple on Olympus. If this new camper was of the sea, she was more likely to be a child of someone in Poseidon’s court than of Aphrodite.

It was obvious that Chiron wanted Annabeth to befriend this girl but Annabeth put her foot in her mouth instead.

“You drool in your sleep.” 

As Annabeth ran towards Hermes’ cabin, Annabeth mentally kicked herself. 

“You drool in your sleep? She’s going to think you’re a weirdo.” She muttered to herself.

Dionysus took one look at the demigod Chiron introduced as Percy Jackson and nearly choked on his diet coke.

The girl before him looked like his dead mother. She could be a child or a sister of Perseleia based on how similar she looked. Her eyes were the same shade as Poseidon’s and all his less monstrous children. She had hair as dark as the deep, as dark as the night but there were no streaks of starlight that Dionysus had once braided and threaded.

When she looked at him, she flinched and Dionysus knew why, he could feel why, and he felt his madness froth at the mouth that this girl, this child who looked so like his beloved mother, being exposed to a drunkard or a gambler or both.

Dionysus had spent so long among the children of his mother’s camp that they knew he was rebelling against Zeus by choosing this form that he forgot that first impressions mattered. 

He shifted until he appeared as a young college student. His dark hair was now longer and more curly, his eyes, he hoped, looked kinder. He still wore his tiger print shirt but he no longer wore the “alcoholic” look. 

The poor thing looked like she was going to hyperventilate.

“Apologies, Percy Jackson, the campers know that that look is a form of rebellion against my father. I have no intention of making anyone here feel threatened by memories of their abusers.” Dionysus said. 

“I wasn’t-” she cut herself off but Dionysus knows better: she was abused and she hasn't come to terms with it yet or isn't ready to acknowledge it yet. “Why are you rebelling?”

“Mr. D has been grounded.” Chiron said. “The King took a fancy to a wood nymph and declared her off limits.” 

“First time, helping her escape his advances, there was the Prohibition. Horrible.” Dionysus shuddered. “Second time, sentenced here to be sober for one hundred years and make sure that none of you campers die prematurely.”  

Percy looked less horrified but still on guard. 

“And the nymph?” she asked.

“She’s off learning sorcery with Circe; she didn't fancy joining the Hunters of Artemis nor did she want to join the Amazons.” Dionysus said.

Dionysus excused himself when it wasn’t obvious that he was escaping her presence and then shut himself in his room and sobbed. 

How cruel it was, to see his mother’s face in this child. 

Dionysus would not tell Asclepius about this.

Asclepius wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Dionysus observed camp as the counselor debated who Percy Jackson’s parent could be; it was obvious to him but Chiron remained hopeful that her godly parent was one of Poseidon’s court and not the god himself. 

The counselor meetings grew rather heated as Selina and Lee got into a screaming match over who Percy belonged to: Selina with the argument that “she’s too cute be to your sister” and Lee with the “she looks like my dad’s type and she could take after her mother, you don’t know!”

When Luke suggested that she belonged to Hermes, both Selina and Lee set aside their grievances and eviscerated Luke until he relented. 

No one could pinpoint an exact trait that belonged to a god on her: Percy was terrible at archery but she was good with music though she denied being an Apollo kid after hearing Michael play.

Dionysus had to excuse himself and be alone after seeing the girl play the flute.

She couldn’t run fast like the Hermes kids or the nymphs but she seemed quick enough.

She couldn’t wrestle like the Ares kids nor was as intelligent as the Athena kids.

Percy Jackson did excel at canoeing. 

She baffled everyone when an otter climbed into her canoe and merely scratched its ears and let it follow her. 

Dionysus hadn’t seen her sword fighting lesson, he was too busy dealing with shipments to grocers in the city to watch but he heard of the aftermath: Percy had disarmed Luke.

It was finally time for capture the flag; Dionysus stayed on the sidelines with Chiron and chugged down another diet coke as he watched the campers run off into the woods. 

Out of morbid curiosity and because he was a glutton for punishment (definitely not because he had a horrible feeling something was going to happen), Dionysus turned into a snake and slithered after Percy. 

He found her seemingly alone at the creek and he curled up on a rock and just observed. 

Annabeth was wearing her hat just by the oak tree, also watching. 

He saw as Percy knelt down and held a hand out for a little fox. He watched as she chirped at the animal to come closer and to his amusement and pain, it did. He watched as owls took an interest in her as well; they didn’t swoop down, but they did watch. Dionysus perked up when he heard a hell-hound but then the Ares campers came. He thought that they would attack her but then saw she was alone.

“Heard you disarmed Luke, newbie.” Clarisse said, looking over the girl. 

“He also kicked my ass afterwards.” Percy said. “I’m the diversion if you haven’t figured it out.”

Whichever Athena kid said she wasn’t intelligent, was lying out their ass or was going off academic intelligence; this demigod figured out with no one telling her that she was supposed to be the distraction and while not fighting the Ares kids, was engaging them in conversation to stall them.

“Figured when they left the newbie alone with no one to tell them what to do.” Clarisse shrugged and then took a sword from her siblings in exchange for holding her spear. “Come on, spar with me. I say you belong with us with how you were able to take on Luke.” 

She looked skeptical and Dionysus rolled his eyes. 

Percy Jackson was obviously of the sea, not of Ares.

“Come on, our teams are off getting the flags, we might as well.” Clarisse coaxed. 

Percy dropped the shield and held the sword. 

“You need a balanced blade.” Clarisse said.

“None work.” Percy said. 

“When dad claims you, we’ll talk with Beckendorf.” Clarisse got in a stance and waited for Percy to begin. 

Dionysus watched as Percy dueled Clarisse and as Clarisse and her siblings offered tips and corrections, Dionysus felt himself relax once he made sure that Percy wasn’t going to get beat up.

When the flag was captured, Dionysus changed out of his form when Chiron came over.

Clarisse looked at him and demanded Percy be moved into the Ares cabin.

“You saw her fight! That makes her an Ares kid!” Clarisse insisted. 

“She is not! She’s Aphrodite’s!” Selina shouted and had to be held back by Drew and Katie.

“Excuse you!” Annabeth took off her Yankee’s cap, “she figured out she was a diversion and distracted half the Ares cabin! That makes her Athena’s!” 

Before there could be a mutiny over Percy, the hell-hound came back. 

“Percy, run!” Annabeth stepped in front of the girl. 

Clarisse took her spear and aimed at the hound.

“Stand ready! My bow! Archers!” Chiron shouted. 

The hound leaped over Annabeth and Clarisse and tore Percy to shreds.

She was too surprised to make a sound.

The hound pushed her down into the creek, clawing and tearing her open as much as it could before the arrows and spears sent it back to the Pit.

Dionysus was glad he hadn’t told Asclepius of this girl. 

She was already dead. 

Another demigod dead before their time. 

Another unspoken punishment by Zeus: watching as his mother’s beloved demigods died violently to monsters.

Campers began accusing one another for summoning the hound that killed the girl when there was a gasp. 

Annabeth was helping Percy Jackson to her feet in the creek. 

Her open stomach and wounds were closing. 

The blood was washing away in the stream. 

Then Dionysus watched as all debates of Percy Jackson’s parentage were silenced once and for all: a glowing sea green trident appeared above her head.

Poseidon, who had sworn upon the Styx and Perseleia’s name, had sired a demigod.

“So it is determined.” Chiron said as campers started to kneel. “Shaker of the Earth, Horse Tender, Storm Bringer. All hail Perseus Jackson, daughter of Poseidon.”

Perhaps it would have been kinder for Percy to have died by the hell-hound.

Chapter Text

Dionysus couldn’t imagine what the other gods must be feeling; he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was feeling, but it was definitely a mix of turbulent emotions: disbelief that Poseidon would have broken a vow made on his mother’s name, anger that a child who looks like his dead mother will have to suffer, relief that he can see his mother’s face clearly once again, even if this child is merely her half sister.

Chiron correctly assumed that Zeus would demand the child to go after his lost bolt and return what was stolen, but Dionysus balked at the suggestion.

“No. She’s a child. If my brothers couldn't find it, what makes you think she can find it?” Dionysus argued. 

“I understand that, but he wouldn’t.” Chiron said.

Dionysus scoffed.

“I don’t believe she stole it. She couldn’t have. She didn’t know of Grover, myself, or Alecto when we were at her school, she didn’t know any of the Greek world.” Chiron said.

Dionysus really wished he could have a drink. 

“Dionysus?” Chiron said.

“It would have been a kinder fate to die at the claws of the hell-hound.” Dionysus said before he felt the presence. “What is it Annabeth?”

Annabeth took off her cap.

“If there is going to be a quest, I want to volunteer.” Annabeth said.

Dionysus could feel the anger and resentment bubbling up in Athena’s daughter.

“That would be up to the quest leader. If I remember correctly, you used her as bait for the Ares cabin. You are extremely lucky that Clarisse was more interested in dueling and seeing if she could be a potential sister. That could have been a dangerous situation.” Dionysus felt himself defending Percy. 

It’s only because she’s my mother’s half sister. It’s only because she shares her face.

Annabeth’s cheeks flushed. 

“I told you that you need more friends. That, young one, is not how you make friends.” Dionysus told her. 

Annabeth said nothing as she took a seat and put on her invisibility cap. 

Grover arrived, bringing Percy Jackson with him.

The girl looked terrible.

She didn’t look like she had a restful sleep since she got here; then again, she hadn’t seen him to deal with the grief of losing her mother either. She looked up at the clouds with a dark look on her face. When she turned to face him and Chiron, she looked resigned, as if she were expecting to be disintegrated on the spot.

She was willing to be disintegrated if only to ease the tension.

Dionysus really wished he had a drink and he really wished his mother was here.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the lady of the hour.” Dionysus said.

She stood straight, only her fingers tapping her side betrayed her nerves.

Dionysus continued when she didn’t say a word. 

Thunder roared and lightning streaked across the sky. 

“What drama queens.” Dionysus muttered. “My mission here at camp is to keep you lot safe. What Chiron is, admittedly correctly suggesting, is against my opinion of keeping you from harm. That being said, I would rather turn you into a dolphin. You could escape to the ocean and live out the rest of your life in your father’s palace.” 

“You know as well as I that this is the will of the gods.” Chiron said, also not happy with this situation. “And if you recall, your mother forbade you from turning the campers into dolphins.” 

“And yet my mother isn’t here. It’s deadly foolishness and I stand by it.” Dionysus then turned to the girl. “I have to go to an emergency meeting on Olympus regarding you. If you are still here when I get back, I will understand you would rather be a dolphin. If you have any brains, you’ll see that is the safer choice.” 

Dionysus took out his security badge and disappeared from the camp, appearing into temple. 

“Dionysus!” Asclepius called out and ran to him. 

Dionysus winced and turned to the god who was his little brother in name.

“Dionysus, it’s not true, is it?” Asclepius asked him.

“Poseidon has a demigod child.” Dionysus confirmed. 

“He broke the oath he swore to mother, on her name!” Asclepius took a step back and leaned against the wall. He shut his eyes tight and asked, “is she-”

“You don’t want to know.” Dionysus said.

“You don’t understand! I feel like I am losing more and more of her face!” Asclepius said.

“It would be kinder to go and see the tapestries than to go and look at the girl. Trust me. Looking at her will bring nothing but pain.” Dionysus said. 

Asclepius slid to the floor and covered his face in his hands. 

“I’m sorry, little brother.” Dionysus placed a hand on his younger brother’s curls before leaving and entering the council chamber in the middle of Zeus and Poseidon’s screaming match. 

Dionysus took his seat and exchanged looks with the other gods as it got even more heated. 

“-YOUR THIEF OF A DAUGHTER-”

Hera didn’t look surprised but she did look relieved that Zeus hadn’t cheated on her for a third time with the same woman.

‘-TAKE HER NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH-”

Apollo had a stony expression on his face. 

“-SHOULD HAVE SET MORE THAN THE MINOTAUR ON HER-”

Athena… Athena looked livid but was waiting her turn to have her own screaming match with Poseidon. 

“-SO MUCH AS SET ANYTHING ELSE ON HER I WILL-”

Hera decided she had had enough and slammed her scepter against the marble; the lotus flowers atop glowed with power, her brown eyes glowed bright white like burning stars. 

“Order.” Hera said calmly. “As Queen of the Heavens, I call this council to order.” 

Dionysus admired her as she leveled Zeus with a steely look, causing him and Poseidon to each take their seats.

“It seems that enough time has passed and now even kings care not to keep promises that were once sacred.” Hera said. “First Zeus, then Poseidon going by the child’s age, then Zeus again? Tut tut.” 

Zeus stiffened at the reminder that his second forbidden child, his son, had “disappeared” by Hera’s hand. 

Dionysus knew better. 

If there was a prophecy stating that a child of her husband could destroy Olympus, if the choice was between a helpless babe and Olympus, the Queen would choose Olympus.

“Zeus, twice. Really? Is the threat of you losing your throne not enough to keep to your marriage bed?” Hera raised an eyebrow, not giving into the thunderous look on his face. “And Poseidon, really? On your daughter’s name. You broke an oath you swore on your dead daughter’s name.” 

Poseidon looked down in shame.

Hera sighed and rolled her eyes. 

“What’s done is done. Thalia is a tree, the boy is gone, and Poseidon’s daughter is the only child living who could fulfill the prophecy.” Hera stated.

“The child who stole my Master Bolt.” Zeus made tornadoes in the Midwest.

“My child had no inkling of us before the Minotaur attacked and killed her mother.” 

Dionysus wouldn’t be surprised if there were hurricanes up and down the East Coast.

“I want your bastard to return my bolt by the summer solstice or I will personally reunite the mother and daughter.” Zeus threatened. 

“I want an apology for calling me a thief and for threatening my daughter by that date.” Poseidon did not cower before his younger brother.

“Enough!” Apollo was quiet so his outburst surprised Dionysus. “My oracle just gave Poseidon’s kid a prophecy. She’ll go on a quest and either retrieve the damn thing or she’ll die and the crisis is averted. Everyone is happy.” 

Apollo did not look thrilled as he said it, but Dionysus could tell he was trying his best to take some of the stress and brunt of the gods’ wrath onto himself. 

Demeter looked ragged and Hestia was exhausted from mediating.

Hera just looked done.

“You are children.” Hera seethed. “Absolute children, both of you! Zeus, you ate Athena’s mother for a supposed threat to your throne! You married Thetis to a mortal over the prophecy of her child. And now, with a prophecy regarding not just your throne, but Olympus, you sire not one, but two children? And Poseidon…”

Hera leveled Poseidon with a disappointed look.

“I expected better from Perseleia’s father.” 

Poseidon buried his face in shame.

“A prophecy was spoken, a quest was granted. Zeus, your manhood will be returned or it will remain lost.” Hera snapped. “Meeting adjourned.” 

Hera was the first to leave, followed by Demeter and Zeus. 

Hermes, Ares, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus all left. 

Artemis put a hand on her twin’s arm and then left in silver moonlight while Apollo left in sunlight. 

Dionysus wanted to stay behind and speak with Poseidon but Athena beat him to it. 

“How. Fucking. Dare . You.” Athena seethed. 

“Don’t start.” Poseidon asked, having already had this conversation many times. 

“I would have thought you held her in higher regard than this. You spit on her name!” Athena said coldly. 

“She’s already paying the price I brought upon her head.” Poseidon said. 

Athena clenched her jaw and shook her head. 

“That… that bastard of yours is nothing but a stain on our daughter’s name. I thought Perseleia meant something to you.” Athena glared at him, looking very much like her beloved owls.

“She did. She does. After all this time, Perse-“

“TAKE HER NAME OUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!” Athena roared. 

“SHE'S MY DAUGHTER, ATHENA!” Poseidon yelled back. 

“SHE IS ALSO MINE!” Athena spat as she turned on her heel and stormed off. 

Poseidon sighed deeply and then turned to Dionysus. 

“Yes, nephew?” Poseidon looked exhausted. 

Dionysus wanted to yell at the god. He wanted to shout and scream and demand why he dragged Dionysus’ mother’s name through the mud. 

Instead he said-

“She looks like her.” Dionysus said softly. 

Poseidon nodded and looked truly remorseful. 

“I’m sorry. For what I did to her. If she and I hadn’t had that fight… I fear I caused her death.” Poseidon said. 

“Apollo said many times it wasn’t that. It was most likely a myriad of things: the Trojan War, Rome, anything could have caused it.” Dionysus knew the guilt Poseidon felt and the years have not lessened his guilt. 

Poseidon preferred and older look to show how he prided himself on being a father, but he looked so tired. 

“You should return to your mother’s camp. Keep it alive in her memory, don’t allow it to be the punishment your father believes it is.” Poseidon left with the sound of waves crashing on the shore. 

"It's too late for that." Dionysus said to the empty room.

Dionysus figured he’d take the long way back; if nothing else, it would allow him to see Ariadne before he returned and give her news of their shared sons. 

///

“Why do you hate me?” Percy asked.

She didn’t really like being blunt, but if she was going on a quest with Annabeth, she wanted to know why the other girl was mad at her. 

Everyone knew the unspoken rules of this whole Greek Mythology thing but Percy and no one was really explaining things to her and it was frustrating because “shouldn’t you know this Percy?” No. The answer is no. No amount of Latin conjugation could have ever prepared her to watch her mother be killed by a minotaur and dissolve into gold in front of her. 

”I don’t hate you.” Annabeth made a grumpy face as she said the words. 

“Could have fooled me.” Percy rolled her eyes. 

“Look, we’re not supposed to get along. Our parents are enemies and besides, your very existence is an insult to my sister.” Annabeth huffed and crossed her arms. 

“Sister? Which sister are we talking about? I don’t think I’ve insulted Bea and if I did it was unintentional.” Percy sure hoped her Greek didn’t offend her. 

“Just forget it.” Annabeth snapped. 

“Did I get her name wrong or-”

“I said forget it!” Annabeth snapped, sharper than before. 

Grover twiddled his thumbs in between the two girls like he wanted to intervene but didn’t. 

“Oh. Okay.” Percy sunk into the seat and ignored Argus’ eyes softening in sympathy. 

The rest of the trip to the bus station was silent. 

Percy could not understand how everything was going horribly wrong so quickly.

Not only had her math teacher Mrs. Dodds really was a demon bat thing, but the bus exploded, and the cherry on top? They were lost in the woods in the middle of fucking New Jersey.

She couldn’t remember how it started, but at one point, Annabeth had thrown a knife at one demon bat and she dissolved and then someone had pulled the emergency brake, causing the bus to flip with the dozens of mortals screaming as the bus rolled. Mrs. Dodds had flapped her wings as best as she could during the ordeal and pulled Percy close and held her as they rolled. 

“Percy, I need to tell you-” Mrs. Dodds screeched in agony as Riptide, the sword Chiron had given her, pierced her gut. 

In the chaos, the cap had come off of the pen. 

Percy watched in horror as she accidentally killed her math teacher. 

“I’m so sorry!” Percy whimpered as Mrs. Dodds dissolved just like her sister. 

Just like her mom.

Annabeth and Grover pulled her out of the bus just as a lightning bolt struck the bus. 

“Come on! The further away we are, the better!” Annabeth pulled her along. 

“All three Kindly Ones! All three!” Grover bleated. 

After a few moments of shock, Annabeth let go of Percy’s hand and walked beside her. 

“Look… that was really brave back there. Not many people could have killed a torturer from the Underworld and survived.” Annabeth said, awkwardly. 

“You did it.” Percy felt horrible. And she hadn’t even killed her, the cap had come off her sword and accidentally ended up in Mrs. Dodds. 

“I didn’t really. I just threw my knife but you are the one who actually attacked her.” Annabeth said. 

Percy hadn't attacked her though, Mrs. Dodds grabbed her to protect her as the bus rolled.

The guilt was consuming her. 

“At camp, we train and we train but out here in the real world, this is the only way to know if we’re good enough.” Annabeth said. 

The smell of burgers in the middle of nowhere should have been suspicious, but Percy was starving and she smelled burgers. 

They ended up at a garden gnome emporium and met some nice lady who offered them food. 

Auntie Em had ushered them in and sat them down, placing burgers and fries and drinks in front of them. 

“Ma’am, we don’t have any money,” Percy said, not eating. 

Was it her imagination or did her hair move?

“No, no. No money. It has been a long time since I’ve had company so, perhaps instead, a story?” Auntie Em asked. 

“What kind of story?” Annabeth asked. 

Underneath the 1920s looking hat, though Percy could not see her eyes, she could tell they were looking at Annabeth. 

“Any story you’d like, though perhaps, your favorite one? Of course, you must first eat. Think about what kind of story you want to tell.” Auntie Em said. 

“Do I hear hissing?” Grover asked. 

“Just the deep fryer. You have keen ears.” Auntie Em said tensely. 

Percy didn’t have the luxury of eating out but she loved her mom’s burgers. Eating Auntie Em’s burgers made her feel so homesick and she felt the tears well up again. 

“Surely my cooking isn’t that horrible?” Auntie Em teased. 

“It reminds me of my mom. My mom is dead.” Percy said, stomach turning against her now and no longer feeling hungry. 

“Oh, you poor dear.” Auntie Em cooed. 

“We were…” T ense every time Annabeth talks, Grover mentioned hissing, eyes are covered. Medusa. “In a car accident. We were chased by the Minotaur. She tried to buy me time to run away. I watched it choke her in front of me.” 

Medusa was silent save for the snakes hissing. 

Annabeth and Grover exchanged looks of horror and not from Percy’s story. 

“My condolences on the loss of your mother.” Medusa reached out to lay a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “And my condolences for the monster you and your mother had to face before Asterion. You and your mother have endured much, you are strong and resilient.” Medusa curled her finger under Percy’s chin to make her look at her. “You are so strong and so brave to have endured that and I am sorry you had to.” 

Annabeth looked to Grover to understand what was going on but he was eating his fries and napkins. 

“You have told me your story, now I shall tell you mine. I am the daughter of Phorcys and Ceto. My sisters, who were fellow Gorgons, and I lived on an island at the end of the world, and any unwanted guest would be quickly turned to stone with one look into my eyes.” Medusa said. 

Annabeth went pale at the realization. 

“It was the filthy Romans who said I was once a beautiful woman who attracted Poseidon and was violated in Athena’s temple. It was the Romans who made me a victim of sexual assault. It was them who made that the most popular telling of my story. I hated them, as many Greeks do. But then something happened. Women and girls flocked to my name for safety, for protection. Because they identified and related to the victim the Romans made.”

Percy was enthralled by the woman’s words. 

“It is why my sisters are gone, yet I remain. I help those women. I help those girls. I help them get revenge.” Medusa said. “Another came to take my head to save his mother; a scared boy who wanted nothing more than to keep his mother safe. A boy just like you. I can help you avenge your mother.” 

Percy thought of Medusa going right up to Gabe and turning him to stone. 

She thought of Mrs. Dodds, the Fury, and her offer to take care of Gabe if Percy and her mother asked for it.

“As nice as that offer is, and I really want to take you up on that, we really need to go to the Underworld and we don’t have transportation.” Percy said. 

Medusa smiled. “I can help you with that.” 

As she left, Annabeth looked at her with wide eyes. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Annabeth squeaked. 

“Xenia.” Percy said. 

“She’s going to kill us!” Annabeth whispered sharply.

“You told me hosts have to be hospitable! This is hospitable!” Percy whispered back.

“Yeah, humans and gods, not monsters!”

Whatever Percy was going to retort with, Medusa came back with a backpack. 

“This is full of food. I only have enough money to get you to Denver on a train. After that, you are on your own. Here is the address for the Underworld, look for DOA records. I got you on the first train tomorrow. I will take you there myself to ensure no more monsters or minotaurs come your way. You may sleep in here tonight if you wish.” Medusa said before leaving. Just as she was about to leave the dining area, she turned and with a grin said, “don’t touch the deep fryer.” 

As they finished dinner and settled down for the night, Percy got the nerve to ask Annabeth a question.

“Why do you really want to be on a quest?”

“I told you, it’s the only way to know if you’re any good or not.” Annabeth said. 

Percy could tell that wasn’t it but she didn’t want to push. 

“Oh, well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty good.” Percy said. 

Annabeth was silent before groaning. 

“It’s because of my sister.” 

“Bea?” Percy asked. 

“No. Athena has, had, only one godly child and she was born pure. As Athena was declared the patron of Athens, the Athenide appeared fully grown, just like Athena, and became my mother’s pride. She’s my mother's favorite child.” Annabeth trailed off. 

“What happened to her?” Percy asked; it had been a while since Latin class and Percy’s world had turned upside down so she figured it was okay she forgot a few things.

“She disappeared.” Annabeth said as she rolled over, ending the conversation. 

Percy looked to Grover. 

“Do you remember the museum trip?” Grover asked. 

“I said it before and I’ll say it again: I didn’t touch Nancy.” Percy said. 

“No, but your powers made the water pull her into the fountain.” Grover said. 

“Wait, what?”

“Do you remember Chiron’s lecture?”

“Grover, I have been attacked by a Minotaur, learned who my dad is, and been accused of stealing a nuclear weapon since then.” Percy said.

“The Athenide disappeared, but it’s happened before. Pan, god of the wilds, also disappeared but satyrs refuse to believe it. Every searcher goes out and hopes to be the one to find Pan and bring him home. Some demigods, once they grow out of camp, they go on to live as normal humans, or as close as they can. Most Apollo kids become doctors, musicians, teachers. Athena kids go into research or textiles. But there is one from every generation who thinks they’ll be the one to go out and find the Athenide and bring her home.” 

Percy looked at Annabeth, still pretending to be sleeping. 

“So that’s why you want a searcher's license. Has anyone come back?” Percy asked softly.

“No, but we have to believe we’ll be the one to find them.” Grover said.

We’ll. He said ‘we’ll.’

“That’s why you want a quest so bad.” Percy said.

“I have to find her. I’ll find her and bring her home even if it kills me.” Annabeth swore.

Percy knew, deep in her bones, that Annabeth meant it.

“For what little it’s worth, I hope you do.” Percy said and then she fell asleep. 

///

They were on the Amtrak towards St. Louis for a three hour detour before Denvor when Percy told them about her dream and the figure offering her mother in exchange. 

“You can’t allow the Lord of the dead to manipulate you like that. He’s a liar, deceitful… you can’t trust him.” 

“What would you do if it was your dad?” Percy asked.

“I would leave him to rot.” Annabeth said coldly.

“You can’t mean that.” Percy said.

“When Athena weaves her children from her thoughts, she has us delivered to our mortal parents by Zephyrus in golden cradles. We are gifts showing her favor upon mortals who are intellectually interesting. Most of my siblings have pictures and scrapbooks, mine asked her to take me back.” Annabeth spat. “He never wanted me. He and his mortal wife and children made that abundantly clear.”

Percy felt her heart break for Annabeth; they weren’t rivals or enemies like she insisted: they were the same.

Percy wanted to hug her but she didn’t think it would be appreciated. 

“My step-father beat me.” Percy said allowed for the first time.

Grover closed his eyes and she could see his jaw clenched. 

“My mom did her best to shield me but… she had to work three jobs to support us on top of his gambling addiction. She wasn’t around much, she tried to keep me at school or after school programs or at the neighbors but-” Percy’s leg started bouncing up and down like it did when she was restless. “I was getting beat over sneaking a slice of pizza cause he didn’t feed me while my mom was working.”

Annabeth was silent. 

Grover’s knuckles were white as he gripped the arm rests.

“I’m not saying our experiences are the same, but I can understand a shitty parent.” Percy said.

Annabeth nodded. 

They didn’t see monsters on the train. 

At one point, Percy saw a family of centaurs galloping but no one pointed it out and Percy didn’t say anything.

As they got nearer to the station, the Arch drew Annabeth’s attention. 

“I want to do that someday.” Annabeth said wistfully. 

“What?” Percy asked. 

“I want to do something, build something, that will last forever. I want to do something that is worth remembering.” Annabeth said. 

“I thought you wanted to find your sister.”

“I can do multiple things. I can be an architect and find her.” 

For some reason, Percy found the idea of Annabeth trying to sit quietly and draw amusing while the girl had done multiple laps up and down the train car to hold off the boredom. 

Annabeth seemed to think Percy was making fun of her. 

“At least Athena wants her children to be educators and builders rather than tear things down like a certain god of earthquakes.” Annabeth snapped. 

Percy lost all amusement. 

All the snark she would have said… she didn’t have the energy to give it back to Annabeth.

Annabeth, to her credit, looked ashamed. 

“I’m sorry. That was mean.” Annabeth apologized. 

“Look, there had to be something our parents agreed on.” Percy tried desperately to think about what but her mind was drawing a blank.

Annabeth played with her fingers. 

“The chariot. Your father made horses. Mine made the chariot.” Annabeth paused and took a deep breath. “And… the Athenide.” 

“Why would they agree about the Athenide?” Percy asked. 

“During the contest for Athens, the King declared Athena the winner with her olive tree over Poseidon and his fountain. Either there was an earthquake or a wind or something but olives fell in the fountain and from that, the Athenide was born: daughter of sea and wisdom, fully grown.” 

“She was born from a fountain and an olive?” Percy looked to Grover for agreement in this was the craziest thing he had ever heard.
“Selina and Cabin Ten’s mom was born when Uranus’ privates were cut off and fell into the sea.” Grover shrugged and ate the dining car menu. 

“Dude!”

"What?"

“When Eris threw the Golden Apple, Aphrodite demanded the apple. As did Hera. But Athena and Poseidon agreed that it should be given to the Athenide.” Annabeth continued. “She was the only one who could get our parents to agree on anything. When Paris kidnapped her and Helen, they waged war to get her back.” 

Poseidon had a daughter with Athena. 

Percy was a daughter of Poseidon and Annabeth was a daughter of Athena. 

“So, I guess this makes us sisters?” Percy tried to figure a way to try and get Annabeth to be less frigid to her. 

“Half sisters. And gods don’t have DNA.” Annabeth said. 

“I always wanted a sister.” Percy said, looking out at the fading Arch.

Annabeth flexed her hand before reaching over and taking Percy’s hand. 

“Truce?” Annabeth extended an olive branch. 

Percy beamed at her as she squeezed Ananbeth’s hand. 

“Truce.”

Chapter Text

“Father, please, help me!” 

Poseidon heard his daughter’s prayer. He turned his eyes to where Percy was, he saw her falling. Her clothes were on fire. He could feel her heart slowing from the poison in her blood. He could feel her dying. 

Fear gripped his heart. 

Poseidon could not lose another daughter. 

He reached his hand out and with the waters from the Mississippi River, caught his daughter, and pulled her into the depths. He used the currents to purge his daughter’s blood of poison, he washed the blood from her cheeks. 

“Eudora, can you please tell Percy to meet me in Santa Monica?” Poseidon, once he knew she was no longer dying, reluctantly turned his gaze from his daughter. 

“Of course, sire.” Eudora bowed and left.

“Love, what happened?” Amphitrite asked. 

Poseidon gripped his trident and did his best to calm his rapidly beating heart. 

“She was poisoned.” Poseidon spat out. “By the chimera.” 

Amphitrite whistled lowly like her whales as she wrapped her arms around her husband’s shoulders. 

“She lives because of you.” Amphitrite comforted. 

“She is also cursed because of me.” Poseidon deflated. 

“She has survived much. I do not think that she will die so easily.” Amphitrite said. “Her father’s stubbornness is genetic.” 

“It is not.” Poseidon argued. 

“I have children that suggest otherwise.” Amphitrite teased. 

///

Ares was shaken by his interaction with Percy Jackson. 

She looked exactly like her dead sister, it was so uncanny. 

He walked through the streets of Olympus and was so rattled by her, that he didn’t struggle when Poseidon grabbed a fist full of his leather jacket and slammed him into a wall.

“What the hell was that?!” Poseidon seethed. 

Ares blinked. 

Poseidon was furious, not near the levels of fury he had when Odysseus lived, but close enough.

“I needed a job done.” Ares said.

“She’s a child! She’s already being forced to find your father’s Master Bolt, a task even you seemed to have failed at. She doesn’t need to kill herself over finding your stupid shield.” Poseidon snarled. 

Ares looked up at Poseidon; green eyes like the sea, like Percy Jackson… like his dead niece.

“She was compensated: food, transportation, information about her mother.” Ares said. 

Poseidon seemed to notice Ares’ tumultuous emotions.

“What?” Poseidon demanded. 

Ares opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words. 

“Stay away from her. She’s got enough to worry about.” Poseidon threatened, releasing Ares from his grasp.

Poseidon was a few paces away when Ares opened his mouth. 

“She looks like her sister.” Ares said quietly.

Poseidon turned his murderous gaze back to Ares. 

“Of course she does, Percy and she share a father.” Ares said. 

Poseidon glared at him. 

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s an observation. I miss my niece. She was one of the few who saw past the bloodshed. I protected her in Troy. I will not harm her sister.” Ares said.

“See that you don’t.” Poseidon narrowed his eyes. 

///

Athena had heard from Dionysus about the video, about how she should not watch it.

Athena had no interest in seeing Annabeth be subjected to spidery horrors but how often did a god get the chance to check in on their child?

The video had started with an explosion of water and then showed the entire “ride” through the rundown and ghastly amusement park.

Robotic spiders sparked and shattered as they were dashed against the concrete.

Annabeth, her darling girl, screaming as she fought one that eventually was tossed aside into the rushing water. 

The… 

The sea spawn guided the boat and did the best she could to keep them from crashing into the walls. 

When they reached the end of the ride, the girls leapt from the boat into the air and-

Athena blinked. 

Surely there was no way that demigod child had wings!

Athena rewound the video and paused. 

She slowed it down to half speed, to a fourth speed.

Athena replayed the moment where the two girls leapt from the boat many times to be sure.

The spray from the water and with the camera angle just so made it seem as if the daughter of Poseidon had wings for a moment but it was only the spray of water in the fading sunlight. 

Athena allowed the video to finish. 

She saw the satyr catch Annabeth and the sea child. 

She saw them fall, hurt but alive, onto the pavement. 

She watched the dark haired child get up and turn to the cameras.

Athena sucked in a breath. 

Had her Perseleia been younger, she imagined that her daughter would have looked a lot like the child wearing amusement park merch.

This child in the video had dark circles under her eyes. She had scraped knees and arms. Her lip looked split.

This child lifted her chin, stared defiantly into the camera, and raised her middle finger. 

Then the video cut off.

Athena didn’t know what to think.

A million thoughts were running through her head. 

A million emotions were swirling around what little heart Perseleia left her with.

Athene tilted her head and hooted at her. 

“I-yes. You are right. Weaving will help.” Athena got up from her couch and went across her aerie to her loom. 

She didn’t know what she would make, she often found herself allowing it to take form while she did the repetitive, soothing motions. 

Perseleia was dead. 

Athena set the threads.

She was not coming back.

Athena wove. 

There was no body to prepare or even transform in some fashion.

Athena, through teary eyes, allowed herself to imagine another time. A time where Perseleia would be in this room with her, a fox running around and sending her owls in a tizzy, and telling Athena stories of what happened under the sea as Athena wove her daughter a new dress. 

When Athena broke out of her thoughts, she found a gorgeous ombre blue fabric before her. 

Perseleia would have loved the color. 

Perseleia would have worn the peplos or the chiton and got grass stains or mud on it or brine.

Athena often wondered what type of fashion her daughter would prefer in these modern times but it all fell back to the fashion of Greece.

Athena retrieved the fabric and folded it up. 

Athena carried it to Perseleia’s room.

Athena set it in the ever growing pile.

Athena walked out of the room and locked the door once more.

///

Epione saw the video when one of her daughters called and asked her for help in keeping their father from seeing it. 

Epione took out her phone and searched the most recent Hephaestus TV scandal that was apparently not involving Aphrodite and Ares, but of two mortal children and a satyr on a quest. 

Epione only had to watch it once before she cried to her daughters as she was leaving, that she and Asclepius would not return to the clinic for a while. 

“Mother?” Aceso called out. 

Epione ran out the back door of the mortal clinic she and Asclepius had started for poor and underprivileged mortals and willed herself back in her and Asclepius’ godly home. 

Epione saw Spike when she entered. 

Spike perked up and slithered towards her and Asclepius’ quarters and Epione feared the worst. 

He wasn’t crying, not loudly at least. 

Epione found him in the closet, curled up in a corner, with Epione’s wedding veil that had once belonged to Perseleia and was a wedding gift wrapped around his shoulders. 

He was staring at his phone. 

The video was playing. 

“Seppie?” Epione knocked on the door frame. 

“Dionysus was right.” Asclepius said, hoarsely. 

“Oh my love.” 

Epione entered the closet and sat next to him; without any prompting, he placed his head on her lap and she ran her fingers through his curls.

They were black today.

He hadn’t worn black hair since the medieval era; when he started to forget what shade of black his mother’s hair was. 

He had worn his hair the same sunshine blond as Apollo’s since. 

But now his hair was black.

“Would you like to talk?” Epione asked him.

“She looks just like my mama.” Asclepius whispered. 

“I know.” Epione comforted. 

“I miss her so much. I’m forgetting things. I’m forgetting what she looked like. I’m forgetting how her voice sounded. I’m forgetting how she would hold me in her arms and tell me how I was her sunshine or how she loved me.” Asclepius shuddered and Epione felt his tears on her scrub pants. 

“You, Asclepius, are the very proof of her love for you. Your mother underwent the first cesarean section to bring you into this world. If you want a reminder of how much she loved you, look in the mirror, my darling.” Epione said. 

Epione did not know how long they stayed in the closet, only that it was a short time for gods.

When Asclepius stiffened under her touch, she asked him what was wrong.

He said nothing.

Perseleia’s veil, Epione’s wedding veil, disappeared with him.

///

Charon and Hermes often complained about the influx of souls that needed passage to the Underworld whenever Hermes managed to escape delivering messages and remember that he was also a psychopomp and the dead needed guidance to the Underworld.

Hermes had often, whenever Charon was the unfortunate listener, ranted about how it wasn’t fair that the Athenide was gone as she was one of the few psychopomps in the Greek pantheon and of the fewer gods of death that could both share a laugh and do their job. 

Hecate scared Hermes so he didn’t dare joke or play pranks on her. 

Anubis was a recluse since the Magicians locked away their gods and their own Lord of the Dead.

Odin’s Valkyries were becoming younger and younger as more and more died in fields of battle; Freya, Odin, and the King and Queen of the Underworld had many strong drinks over the increase in student deaths.

It was just too much.

Too many souls were not given the proper burials to gain passage or, they either had the proper burial but it would be faster to wait in a never moving line at Disney than it would be for the Underworld to process the souls of all the deceased. 

Charon was doing the math to determine whether it was worth bringing over another barge full or not when he heard the door chime. 

It was a new soul. 

It was always the same. 

It was never nothing new. 

And it certainly wouldn’t be the Gentle Guide walking through those doors.

“Excuse me, we would like to book passage?” A young girl said. 

Charon inwardly flinched. 

A millennia he has been doing this and never does it get any easier. 

“Payment is required.” Charon said, not looking up from his notes. 

He heard some coins be placed on the counter. 

“Is this enough for three?” The girl asked again.

Charon looked up and saw a pile of drachmas on his desk.

He blinked. 

No one has brought drachma in years.

“If that’s not enough, I have more.” The girl said, putting more drachmas on the counter.

Charon’s eyes turned from the pile of ancient coin to the girl handing them over and if he were mortal, his heart would have stopped. 

Gentle Guide held a small child in her arms while another clutched at her skirts. She smiled kindly at Charon and placed some of her pearls into his hand.

She was so small.

Charon smiled as he heard the notes of Gentle Guide’s flute and turned his head to see her leading people to his ferry.

Was this really Poseidon’s forbidden child?

Gentle guide was so polite, was always polite, and always thanked him for his hard work as she and he guided souls across the Styx.

How did she get all the way across the country?

When she had stopped ferrying souls a few years into the Trojan War, Charon missed their lively chats.

Was this the kid Alecto grew fond of while undercover as a teacher?

Charon waited day after day for the one soul he would never get to ferry.

The girl, gods she looked so eerie and so similar to her dead sister, reached into her pockets and started putting some mortal money on the counter as well. 

“No, no.” Charon found his voice. “That’s more than enough. Only a drachma each.” 

The girl looked at her companions and then to the full waiting room of souls. 

“They can have it.” She shrugged. “Can we book passage?”

Charon did not feel his eyes sting as he nodded. 

He turned quickly and opened the elevator. 

The girl and her companions followed him onto the barge.

Charon always took care with each and every soul that stepped onto his barge, but this child, this trip, he took extra care. 

Midway through the crossing, the girl’s eye caught something underneath the water. 

Charon looked as well and found Styx peaking above the waves; eyes furrowed and dark as she looked at the child that was forbidden and a living embodiment of an oath broken upon her waters. 

Without a fuss, Styx slipped back under her dark currents. 

Charon dropped the souls off at the terminal and then escorted the quest members past Cerberus as it was the quickest way to get through security. 

Cerberus sniffed at the demigods and the satyr relentlessly. His tail wagged so hard that he was blowing the spirits off into the darkness. He yipped like a puppy and whined when Charon led the children further in and ordered him to stay.

There was something off about Poseidon’s daughter. 

Something…

Charon couldn’t quite put his boney fing-

The satyr yelped and started being pulled in the direction of Tartarus. 

The girls sprinted after him, unknowing of the danger that the children were in. 

Charon heard the beat of Alecto’s wings as she followed from above.

One of the winged shoes on the satyr slipped off his hoof, slowing the chase but still dragging him towards the pit. Still bringing the forbidden daughter to the pit.

“No!” Charon swung his ferryman’s pole for the satyr to grab onto. 

The satyr grabbed onto it with both hands and held on desperately as the other shoe tried to pull him down, only giving up when it slipped off the other hoof. 

The girls gasped with relief until the forbidden girl lost her footing and began to fall as well. 

Before the girl could scream or cry out, Alecto dived in a blur, snatching the child in her arms before she could tumble into Tartarus. 

Charon grabbed the blonde girl with one hand and with the satyr in his other, Charon reappeared outside the doors of Hades’ court. 

Charon heard the flaps of wings and smelled the strong scent of ozone. 

Charon met Alecto’s gaze and raised an eyebrow. 

The Fury frowned at him and shook her head faintly as she set the dark haired girl down. 

“I’m so, so sorry for accidentally vaporizing you on the bus! It was an accident, I promise!” The dark haired girl groveled? apologized? to Alecto.

In a move that surprised the other children, Alecto licked her thumb and washed dirt off the girl’s face in a fond motion she often did for their King and Queen’s children even as they’ve grown up. 

“It was an accident, you have nothing to apologize for Percy.” Alecto said. 

The satyr was shaking where he stood. 

The blonde girl was frozen. 

“Now, Hades wishes to speak with you. You will go to him. You will speak true. He is just and he is fair, but he is not cruel.” Alecto said, opening the doors to the throne room, leading the quest members inside. 

Charon led them to the throne room but now he needed to return to his post. 

He had more souls to ferry now their debt had been paid.

///

Ares was in a fog. 

He had been in a fog since he… since he…

It had cleared enough that he didn’t think of it, but then when he saw his cousin, his niece, and the satyr on the beach it came back full force. 

Something was controlling him. 

Something was forcing him to fight this child, to prevent her from returning Zeus’ Master Bolt. 

But also, something was preventing him from harming her. 

Ares focused on that. 

He focused with all his might on the one thing preventing him from harming her. 

As long as he drew breath, he would see his … returned to her mother. 

As long as he drew breath, he would not see his … face the ire and disappointment he did.

What kind of oath did he swear?

When did he swear it?

”You may not be able to protect her, but I will in your stead.”

Ares fought the child but he held back. 

He forced himself to be sloppy.

He forced himself to make mistakes.

He had to fulfill his oath to... 

He could not think of anything he swore to the daughter of Poseidon but it kept him lucid enough to fight off the fog. 

When he felt her xiphos cut his heel, he roared.

Not in anger of being beaten, but in relief that the fog was gone and had left him for good. 

“The Helm of Darkness, as agreed.” Ares limped to his Harley and held out the Helm.

The girl, Percy, took the helm from him.

“You fought good, kid. Keep it up and they’ll eventually call you Areia.” Ares complemented.

Ares heard later that the girl spoke for him, spoke in his favor, demanded of Zeus that he be treated with mercy since he was tricked by Kronos. 

Ares wondered why she would even bother?

Was it because Clarisse taught her and showed her camaraderie at Camp? Was it because she insisted that the girl be Ares despite Poseidon’s very public claim?

Was it because she wanted a favor owed?

Whatever the reason, Percy had spoke for him.

Then came the other whispers from Hebe’s and Ganymede’s lips as they poured nectar and youth in goblets: that Poseidon, known to love his children to the point of insanity, of vengeance, of possession, had told his forbidden child that he was sorry she was born. To her face. 

Ares could sympathize with the child; after all, Zeus still hadn’t changed his thought about Ares and still reminded him how “loathsome” he was and how if Ares was born of any other, Zeus would have thrown him down long ago.

That poor girl.

Ares could feel something tickling his mind. 

A memory that he couldn’t quite recall. 

Something that Perseleia had said long ago in Troy, but Ares couldn’t remember the conversation or her specific response…

Oh well. 

If it was important, then Ares would remember it eventually.

///

Asclepius had no idea what would be so urgent, so worthy of the title of emergency, that even Chiron couldn’t fix.

Asclepius wanted to think this was a prank or some poor excuse Dionysus came up with to speak with him during his exile from Olympus.

Dionysus was tense, not his usual laid back self. 

His eyes were wide with panic, not with festivities.

“Brother please, she’s dying. Chiron can only hold it off for so long.” Dionysus pleaded with him to come to the camp.

“If a camper is dying, then the Fates have already wound their thread and made the cut.” Asclepius sighed. 

Dionysus grabbed a fistful of Asclepius’ white doctor’s coat and slammed him into the wall. 

Epione jumped in shock. 

Asclepius’ daughters darted out of the room. 

Dionysus leaned close and when his lips pressed against the other god’s ears, he whispered.

“Fine.” Asclepius agreed. 

Without delay, the two gods were in a camp infirmary. 

Chiron was desperately using herbs and muttering healing incantations over the afflicted camper. 

“Put aside whatever thoughts that come into your head. If she dies…” Dionysus threatened. 

Asclepius rolled his eyes. 

He could be profess-

Her arm was a vomitous green and turning necrotic. 

She was spasming and writhing; fighting Chiron in her unconsciousness. 

There was excessive drool pouring from her lips.

Brown exudate was leaking out of an open wound on her hand along with blood. 

Asclepius stepped forward and placed a hand on her forehead to get a diagnosis.

“Pit Scorpion venom, fever, elevated blood pressure, accelerated heart rate, dyspnea.” Asclepius pushed all thoughts aside and assumed his doctor’s role. 

Asclepius was the god of healing and medicine. 

His father was the god of plagues.

The poison in this child’s veins could be stubborn all it liked but it would eventually leave under his authority. 

Under Chiron and Asclepius’ healing, eventually the girl stopped twitching, the swelling in her arm went down, and her heart rate returned to normal. 

Asclepius placed a hand on her forehead and murmured blessings of healing, of rest, onto the girl while Chiron wrapped the girl’s hand in nectar soaked gauze.

Once they were sure the girl would be stable, Chiron entrusted her monitoring to Lee, one of Asclepius’s mortal half brothers and an aspiring healer.  

“It has been a long time since I’ve had to perform healing to that extent.” Chiron said. 

“I’m sure you haven’t lost your skills.” Asclepius said. 

“No, but I am no god of healing or god of doctors.” Chiron patted Asclepius on his shoulder. “That honor falls to you.” 

“That was… challenging. Now,” it was just the three of them: Chiron, Asclepius, and Dionysus in Chiron’s office. “What the hell did Dionysus mean when he said there is a camper who looks like mom?”

Chiron turned and gave Dionysus a look of exasperation.

“It could just be a freaky coincidence,” 

“You said a week ago that she didn’t look like mom and now you’re saying she’s mom?” Asclepius raised his voice. 

“I didn’t say that! I said that it would be kinder to look at Athena’s tapestries!” Dionysus argued. 

“You come into my clinic and tell me mom is dying; how else am I supposed to interpret that?” Asclepius growled. 

“I said mom’s doppelganger is dying.” 

“Boys! You are not going to project your mother issues onto a twelve year old child who barely survived a murder attempt with divine intervention.” Chiron stomped his hoof to get both gods to listen to him. 

The two gods held their tongue but they glared at one another; the air cackling with divine energy.

“Now, when Percy wakes up, she’s going to be scared. A friend, a counselor that she and others looked up to tried to murder her. Dionysus, she’s already terrified of you because of that “drunken gambler” persona you had before; most likely due to someone she knows. Asclepius, she doesn’t need to be scared of some stranger thinking she’s his mother; she needs a doctor. She needs some sort of adult figure she can trust that isn’t me or Alecto or her mother.” Chiron lectured them.

The two gods nodded. 

“Dionysus, you are going to utilize your specialty of madness and give the campers therapy. They will desperately need it because of the trauma of Luke’s betrayal. Asclepius, I ask that you stay until Miss Jackson is fully healed. Neither of you are to make her uncomfortable, say any remarks, or do anything drastic to a young child.” Chiron said. “Have I made myself clear?”

The two gods nodded like children who were just lectured. 

Asclepius watched as Percy Jackson ran down the hill towards her mother. 

Today was the day he took off her bandages. 

Today was the day he saw her hand. 

Asclepius may be forgetting his mother’s face, but he never forgot her scars. 

When Asclepius was younger, he would lay in her lap. He would hold her hands and trace how soft they were with his fingers. He would press his small hand against hers and wonder how she could wield a sword with hands that cradled him. He would trace the starburst scar on the palm of her hand and ask where she got it. His mother would laugh like her otters and tell him she loved the stars so much she wanted to wear them on her body. 

Percy Jackson had the same exact scar on her hand. 

Same place.

Same wound.

Same starburst shape.

Asclepius’ mother never spoke of her imprisonment in Tartarus. 

Apollo would glower and curse every monster and Titan down there that abused her and his father who put her there. 

Asclepius learned later that his mother was stung by a Pit Scorpion while down there. 

That starburst, the star that Asclepius loved to trace as a child, was gained through torture.

It pained him to see another, a child this time, undergo the same pain.

Asclepius watched as Percy Jackson hugged her mother. 

It was bittersweet. 

Miss Jackson looked up from her daughter and met his gaze. 

He could hear her soft prayer, thanking him for healing her daughter, her only child, her only family. 

Asclepius raised his hand and waved. 

“So…” Dionysus said, appearing next to him. 

“So.” Asclepius watched as the Jacksons got into a car and drove away.

“What are you going to do now?” Dionysus asked. 

It was selfish. 

It was cruel. 

“Would you and Chiron care if I took up a position in the infirmary? I have a feeling that one is going to be reckless.” Asclepius said. 

Dionysus raised an eyebrow.

“Just so long as you know who’s in charge.” Dionysus said.

“Chiron.” Asclepius grinned. 

Dionysus shoved his brother. 

Asclepius laughed and shoved his brother back.

Asclepius would have to let Epione and his daughters know his plans in case they wanted to join him at Camp or stay at the clinic.

He looked back at the Jackson’s fading car. 

He hoped Percy Jackson would survive the school year and come back next summer.

Chapter Text

Percy stood on the steps of Merryweather Prep and rubbed the two beads on her necklace; the bead with the trident, symbolizing Poseidon claiming her, and the pearl with the carved sun, symbolizing her being under the protection of Apollo as he’s the guardian and protector of children and by extension, Perseleia.

Though the goddess was no longer around, it didn’t stop the camp from using pearls in her honor.

She found herself rubbing the pearl more often than the trident bead out of nervousness. 

Luke was somewhere out in the world.

He could be anywhere. 

He could try and murder her again.

He could-

Percy was pulled out of her spiraling thoughts by the sound of bullying. 

Percy followed the sounds and found a group of teens her age picking on some poor kid that was taller than them. 

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Percy growled at them.

Like Spider-Man said, with great power comes great responsibility; Percy wasn’t going to stand aside and let bullies get away with their abuse, not even if they were mortal. 

Percy stood between them and the kid and glared at the ringleader until he backed down, either not wanting to get beat up by a girl or wanting the reputation of hitting one, and left Percy with the taller kid. 

“Hi,” Percy turned and helped him pick up his things. “My name is Percy. What’s your name?”

He looked like he hadn’t been in a shower for weeks and he smelled like it. His clothes looked ripped and old. Only his backpack and school supplies were new.

He looked like he was waiting for her to turn and run from him. 

Percy only stayed and smiled up at him. 

“My name is Tyson. Thank you for stopping the meanie.” Tyson said, quietly. 

“Not a problem. It’s what friends do.” Percy said brightly. 

“Friends?” Tyson tilted his head. 

“Friends. Do you want to be my friend?” Percy asked. 

“I never had a friend. Percy will be my friend.” Tyson said. 

Percy grinned. 

“Awesome. Come on, Tyson. I hope we have the same classes.” Percy pulled Tyson along; not caring about the weird or dirty looks from the other students. 

It took a few days before Tyson confessed to Percy that he was homeless. 

It took Sally five minutes after Percy told her to bring Tyson home with her when she picked Percy up from school. 

Sally took one look at Tyson. 

Where adults and children shuddered at his size and ragged clothes, Sally smiled and held out her hand. 

Tyson took it after much coaxing from Percy. 

“Tyson, I’m Percy’s mom. Would you like to come live with us instead of living on the street?” Sally asked as she walked the kids back to her apartment.

“I would not have to sleep in a cardboard box?” Tyson asked. 

“No, sweetheart. No cardboard box for you.” Sally promised. 

“No meanies?” Tyson asked.

“No,” Sally started to tear up. “No meanies. Not anymore. No one will ever hurt you or Percy or me ever again.” 

Tyson grabbed onto Percy’s hand with his free hand. 

“I would like to live with you and Percy. I will be good.” Tyson promised. 

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to promise me anything.” Sally told him. 

Social services had no recollection of Tyson. 

Sally didn’t think they would since he was a cyclops but it was still worth trying since mortals saw Tyson as a really tall preteen through the Mist. 

Regardless of their incompetence, they were quick to provide Sally legal custody over Tyson, and Percy was so happy to have a brother.

Tyson cried when Sally told him.

“But I am a monster! My mommy didn’t want a monster!” Tyson sobbed, tears falling out of his sad brown eye. 

Sally cupped his face and wiped his tears. 

“Tyson, I don’t care if you have one eye, or two. I don’t care if you are a monster or human. You are my daughter’s friend. You adore her. You are sweet and kind to me. I would be honored to have a son as sweet as you, if you let me.” Sally told him. 

Tyson wept as Sally hugged him. 

When he calmed down, Sally pulled back. 

“We will have to tell Percy you’re a cyclops. I love her, but she’s so oblivious. She didn’t notice that there was a pegasus on the roof for years.” Sally teased. 

“Does this mean Percy is my sister if you are my new mommy?” Tyson asked. 

Sally nodded. 

“Yeah, baby. Percy is your sister.” Sally confirmed. 

When Percy returned home after her band lesson, she shrieked with delight when she learned Tyson was officially theirs. 

“You’re a Jackson now.” Percy hugged him. “Jacksons take care of each other.” 

Sally nodded as she prepared dinner. 

“Now that Tyson is a Jackson, you need to tell him about your father.” Sally said. 

Percy grimaced. 

She had done her best not to think about the… not dad, not yet, god? God. 

She had done her best not to think about the god who looked at her like she was a dead girl walking, the god who looked at her like he was wishing she was someone else, the god who told her that he was sorry she was ever born.

“Right. That.” Percy made a face. 

“Yes. That.” Sally said, starting to cut the vegetables. 

“Okay. So, Greek Mythology is real.” Percy said. 

“Yes.” Tyson nodded. 

Percy had a weird look on her face. 

“So the gods are real.” 

“Yes.” Tyson followed along. 

“You don’t seem surprised.” Percy said. 

“Well, he is a cyclops dear.” Sally said, putting the onions and mushrooms in a pan.

Percy blinked once. 

Twice. 

“A what now?”

“Tyson is a cyclops, you’re the daughter of Poseidon; it’s really obvious, sweetheart.” Sally said, lips curling into a smile. “Perhaps you need glasses?”

Percy looked between Tyson and her mother. 

She looked at Tyson, really looked at him. 

As she did, the Mist around his face began to dissipate and Percy was left staring at the truth: Tyson was a cyclops.

Instead of two brown eyes, he had one. 

“Huh, cool.” Percy shrugged. 

“Percy is the daughter of Poseidon?” Tyson asked, looking at Sally. 

“He’s more like my mom’s ex who’s only redeeming quality is that he keeps me from being smited.” Percy quipped. "Smited? Smote? Smoted?"

“Percy!” Sally warned. “Yes. Percy is Poseidon’s daughter.” 

“Percy is my sister.” Tyson said, disbelieving the words. 

“Yep. Mom is amazing and social services fear her.” Percy nodded. 

“Percy is my sister!” Tyson grinned and pulled Percy in a hug. 

“Yeah, big guy.” Percy grinned. “I’m your sister. And if anyone is mean to you, mom will kill whoever I don’t.” 

“Percy!” Sally whipped her head around to glare at her daughter. 

“Fine. Mom will get to them first.” Percy relented. 

“That’s better. No one messes with my kids.” Sally said as she poured the chopped zucchini into the pan.

///

Camp was not the same with Chiron gone. 

Tantalus had everyone on edge. 

Hestia, normally in the form of a nine year old child, now took on the form of an adult woman and hardly left the younger children’s sides. Asclepius and Dionysus did what they could to run interference between Tantalus and the other campers but there was not much they could do since Zeus himself brought Tantalus out of Tartarus to be the new activities director in Chiron’s stead. 

Percy knew not everyone had a terrible step parent. 

Percy knew that not everyone knew how to survive such a man. 

Percy would be their shield. 

She would be their armor. 

Percy knew all about how to keep abusive eyes on her to shield another; she had perfected it with Gabe and her mother.

“Ah, Percy Jackson. I was told about you.” Tantalus looked like he hadn’t eaten in years… why?

Some sort of punishment for…

Percy saw how Hestia was a woman now, protecting and comforting the younger campers when she arrived. 

Percy saw how the head councilors and the older kids shielded their younger siblings. 

Percy saw how Mr. D and Mr. A kept Tantalus in their sights at all times, not daring to leave him alone with any child.

Something to do with food and-

“Over tea and scones?” Percy teased.

The dining pavilion went silent.

“The trouble maker. I will be keeping an eye on you.” Tantalus pointed a boney finger at her. 

“Of the two of us, I think the one who needs an eye on them is the man who killed and served his own child as dinner.” Percy said, eyes sharp and tongue quick.

“YOU-” Tantalus stood abruptly. 

Mr. D and Mr. A stood just as quickly, not against her, but in her defense. 

Percy could hear weapons being drawn behind her. 

Percy felt a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Tantalus, I know you did not intend to threaten a child, a camper.” Hestia said, voice colder than anyone had ever heard before. Percy didn’t think it was possible. “You know of Poseidon’s wrath against grievances towards his sons. Do you really want to find out what would happen if you harm his daughter?”

Tantalus gazed at the demigods behind Percy. 

He scoffed when he looked at Hestia.

He seemed to not think it was worth fighting Dionysus or Asclepius at dinner over a demigod.

“I would never threaten a camper.” Tantalus said, slowly sitting back down. 

“See that you don’t.” Hestia ushered Percy and Tyson to Poseidon’s table.