hold me like a knife

by pineappleking

Summary:

“Relax, Clarisse."

“If I relaxed my body now, I’d fall apart,” Clarisse says, huffing out a cold laugh. “I’ve always lived like this, and it’s the only way I know how to go on. If I relaxed even for a second, I will cease to exist as the only thing I was ever meant to be: a weapon.”

“You’re more than that,” Silena tells her. “You are.”

xxx

Silena Beauregard is a princess and heir to her mother’s throne. She’s busy trying to prove herself as more than just a pretty face. To do that, she’s going to have to betray her kingdom and all of the people she loves.

Clarisse is a knight. She was raised by the sword, by her anger. Now, she is sworn to protect the princess. As a knight, she must be devoted to those she serves. Utterly and completely devoted. That’s certainly the only reason she thinks about Silena as often as she does. No other reason…

Notes:

This idea came to me when I thought about how delicious a princess/knight relationship would be with Ruegard. The yearning, the angst, the devotion. Silena falls first. Clarisse falls harder. Also, Silena never gets a lot of attention or characterization — even in fics with her as a main character. For that reason, this fic is going to revolve pretty heavily around her and her POV.

Disclaimer: this is a royal AU! I've taken some creative liberties with myth retellings, settings, etc. this is a slow burn! this is going to have a more detailed plot! i think it's going to be super fun, and I hope you do, too!

Chapter 1: chapter one

The night starts here, the night starts here
Forget your name, forget your fear

"The Night Starts Here" by Stars

+++++

Princess Silena Beauregard of Cyprus can be a bit of a manipulative bitch, and she knows it. 

It’s not her fault the stableboy thought he was going to get a cheeky kiss once he delivered the letter to her. She might have flirted with him a little bit to get what she needed, but surely he didn’t actually think he had a chance? 

She scoffs and pushes her black hair over her shoulder. She takes a deep breath, brushes out the wrinkles in her dress, and climbs the stairs back into the entrance of the castle. It's quiet and cold this morning, now that autumn has finally arrived. Silena hopes her maids will have the fireplace in her room nice and warm when she returns. 

She glances down at the folded paper in her hands, courtesy of one naive stableboy. She swallows down her nerves and shoves the paper into her corset, beneath her breasts. Surely no one will search there for traitorous information. 

Silena turns the corner, thinking of her mother the Queen and how angry she’ll be if she finds out what Silena is doing — and plows over her younger sister. Both girls tumble to the ground, a mess of hair, skirts, and jewelry. Silena huffs and pulls her sister to her feet, both fumbling with their dresses and smoothing the wrinkles. The royal family must look perfect. 

“Watch where you’re going,” Piper grumbles. 

“You watch where you’re going, baby sister,” Silena retorts. 

Silena grins at her younger sister. She’s not a baby; not at all. Piper is nearly eighteen, now, only a year younger than Silena herself. They’ve always acted more like twins than sisters. They couldn’t be more different, though. It shows in their faces, their style, their personalities. The one thing that binds them together is their royal blood; Queen Aphrodite’s blood. 

Piper huffs but laces her arm through Silena’s, and they continue down the hall together. “How was your walk in the gardens, sister?” 

“Lovely. How fare your studies?” 

Piper makes a face, scrunching up her nose and narrowing her eyebrows. It’s answer enough. Silena laughs, patting Piper’s hand with her own. “Don’t worry, you’ll be done soon enough.” 

“I’d much rather train with a sword or bow than learn to sing,” Piper grumbles.

She reaches a hand up to push her choppy brown hair out of her face. She’d cut her own lovely hair last week, just to spite their mother. Aphrodite had been pissed that her youngest daughter ruined her perfectly good looks with a bad haircut. No matter how the maids style it, Piper’s hair always hangs in a shag around her tanned face. 

Silena should reprimand her for angering their mother, but… she can’t. She loves her sister too much.  

Piper is dressed in a lovely pink gown today. Silver bangles adorn her arms, and her neck is covered in necklaces and jewels. Piper huffs a strand of hair out of her face, reaching a hand up to wipe at the makeup on her face. Her eyes are lined with kohl, her lips stained with red. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Silena says, catching her sister’s hand in her own. “Today is important. Leave it be.” 

Piper nods her head and drops her hand, though she still looks tempted to wipe the kohl off. Silena herself is dressed in a light blue gown. Bracelets, necklaces, and earrings clang against one another as the two princesses make their way to the throne room. 

“Are you nervous?” Piper whispers. 

“Terrified.” 

Today is no ordinary day. Today, Silena is officially and formally going to be named the heir to the kingdom. She is the Queen’s oldest living child. She’s always expected to be named the heir, but now that the day is finally here, she can’t help the nerves in her chest. 

She should have been tidying up just now, but… she’d seen her stableboy rush into the castle, claiming he needed to see her, and she’d known. 

Silena is not only a princess, scholar, and politician; she’s also a traitor to her own fucking kingdom. 

+++++ 

Queen Aphrodite’s throne room is lavish and decadent. The walls are covered in expensive tapestries and paintings; drapes and curtains hang from the ceiling, all rich, deep colors. The throne itself is plated in gold and sits on the far end of the room. As the doors open, and Silena steps into her mother’s presence, she tries to hide her shaking hands in the folds of her dress. 

Piper steps to the side, allowing Silena to continue on her own. All of the nobles in the court are present, watching Silena make her way across the throne room. Music is playing, Silena faintly registers. Trumpets. Something imperial and formal and bland. 

She glides across the room, tilting her chin up, and pushing her shoulders back. She walks just as her mother taught her to; like she is the fairest and most adored thing in the room. As she walks, she knows eyes follow her. 

Queen Aphrodite is famous, across the world, for her beauty. Aphrodite’s long blonde hair lies in perfect waves. Her tanned skin is smooth and flawless. Her lips are pink and full, her cheeks a lovely rose color, her eyebrows plucked to perfection. The queen lounges on her golden throne, her perfectly tanned legs crossed over each other. She’s dressed in a deep red dress with a plunging neckline and high-slitted skirt. Golden jewelry hangs off of her curvy frame. Silena looks her mother in the eye and drops into a low curtsy before the throne. 

Her father is here, too, but he’s unimportant. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s nothing compared to his wife. He sits on a plain wooden throne next to the queen, smiling at his daughter.

“Rise.” 

Silena rises, averting her eyes respectfully as the queen stands. “Today, I shall formally name you my heir,” Aphrodite says, her voice strangely soft. She casts her gaze across the room, looking at her court. “Princess Silena, you will one day rule Cyprus in my stead. You will be the Queen of the greatest nation in Olympia.” 

Silena bows her head as the queen places a heavy, silver crown on her head. 

“Perhaps you will lead our kingdom out of this everlasting war,” Aphrodite murmurs, loud enough only for Silena to hear. “Or perhaps not.” 

Silena turns and faces the court. The gathered nobles, knights, lords, and ladies bow to her. Silena can’t help the pride that bubbles up in her chest. She’s been preparing for this day her entire life. She’s read every book on politics; she’s spent countless days in court, listening to the problems within her kingdom; she’s ready. She’s ready to make a difference. 

“Long live the future queen!” 

And no matter what her mother says, Silena will see her kingdom at peace. 

“To celebrate your naming,” Aphrodite says, quieting the cheering of the crowd. “You will be provided with your very own personal knight. She has come today to swear her allegiance to Cyprus, to our kingdom. Come forth, Clarisse.” 

Silena sits on her throne next to the queen and waits for the knight to approach. She’s always expected to receive her own guard, but now that it’s here… Silena frowns. She doesn’t want nor need someone watching her at all hours of the day and night. Silena likes her privacy. It allows her to be more…elusive. She needs her secrecy to be a better traitor. 

Silena, however, can’t help the way her mouth falls open when the knight steps forward. 

Clarisse kneels before Queen Aphrodite. She’s dressed in light armor instead of the heavy, concealing armor Silena is used to seeing guards wear in the castle. She’s tall and muscular and has a head full of dark, curly hair that is braided down her back. 

When she inclines her head, Silena can see more of her face. Her face is tan, her mouth set in a frown. There is a nasty scar stretching across her face. It starts below her eye and reaches down across her cheeks, to the middle of her lips. Actually, she looks to be covered in scars. A few white lines are peaking out from under her armor, up her neck. From what Silena can see of her arms, which isn’t much thanks to the armor, the knight looks covered in old scars. 

“Do you, Clarisse La Rue, daughter of General Ares, swear yourself to Cyprus?” Queen Aphrodite asks. 

Daughter of General Ares. Mom’s favorite lover.  

Silena casts her eyes around the room, panicked, searching for the famous blood-thirsty war general. Sure enough, he stands in the corner, arms crossed over his chest. His armor is blood-red and polished. He grins wickedly as he watches his daughter kneel before the queen.  

Aphrodite is known for taking many lovers. Sure, she’s married, but that’s never stopped her before. She used to be married to a man named Hephaestus, years before Silena was born. Then she married Tristan, Silena and Piper’s father. Aphrodite’s next lover was Ares, whom she’s been on and off with for decades. 

Ares, obviously, has other lovers, too. He’s a general in Cyprus’ armies. He’s widely known for his fearlessness and battle prowess. He's the father of many, many bastard children. He’s won every battle he’s entered. He’s like a god on the battlefield. He terrifies Silena. 

Ares’ daughter is still kneeling, reciting her vows to the kingdom. 

“I, Clarisse La Rue, daughter of General Ares, swear the vow of knighthood. My life, my sword, and my honor belong to the kingdom of Cyrus,” Clarisse says. Her voice is a little hoarse. Low. Silena likes it. “I shall always strive to bring honor and glory to the house of Queen Aphrodite.” 

Silena’s mother smiles that slow, wicked smile. Silena knows how much Aphrodite adores attention and loyalty. She, herself, may not be loyal, but she needs others to be loyal to her. 

“I charge you, daughter of war, to be brave,” Aphrodite says, reciting the final lines from the ceremony. “I charge you to be just. I charge you to defend Princess Silena, the future ruler of our kingdom, with your life. May glory and honor be yours.” 

With that, Clarisse rises. She bows to the Queen again, then turns to Silena. She kneels in front of Silena, a few dark curls falling out of her braid and into her face. For a moment, Silena is utterly speechless. This is her protector? Clarisse definitely looks tough and handy with a weapon, but… well, she’s very attractive, isn’t she?

Silena swallows down her nerves, and says, “Rise, Clarisse La Rue. You honor me with your service.” 

As soon as the words leave her mouth, the room erupts into cheers and applause. People are shouting Silena’s name, toasting to her future as a Queen one day. Aphrodite smiles and calls for a celebration, a party. Though the queen looks happy — downright cheerful, actually — Silena notices her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. 

Silena knows her mother. She knows better than anyone that Aphrodite doesn’t want to think of a world where she isn’t the queen. She might have named Silena the heir, but Aphrodite certainly has no intention of allowing her daughter to rule anytime soon. 

+++++ 

The party is massive. Aphrodite has been planning it for weeks, now, and it shows. Every dish under the sun is prepared and placed on the table before them. Savory, sweet, a mix of both… everything you could dream of is sprawled before the royal family and their guests. 

Next to Silena, Piper grimaces and reaches around a roast pig to scoop some vegetables onto her plate. Their father, Tristan, smiles happily and reaches for the chocolate immediately. He’s not much of a ruler or politician. His marriage to Mom was purely political, for both of them. Aphrodite secured an alliance with a foreign kingdom, and Tristan was made a king-consort to the Queen of Cyprus. Now, he just dabbles in various hobbies. 

Around the room, various knights, lords, ladies, and nobles chat and laugh together. Ares is seated further down the table, and though he’s not of noble blood, he’s already drunk and loud and grinning. He’s telling a story for everyone to listen to; one of his violent, bloody stories of war. 

“...just a few months ago! I sent those bloody Pylos babies running back to their mothers,” Ares says, baring his teeth in a vicious grin. “We’ll see if the young Perseus is eager to meet me in battle again so soon.” 

That piques Silena’s interest. Pylos and Cyprus have long been at war after a… disagreement between their respective rulers decades ago. Queen Athena, who rules Pylos, is an arrogant queen who delights in killing men from Cyprus — or so Mom says. Her kingdom is one of scholarship, philosophy, and industry. They’re all smart and annoying. But Athena’s armies are very impressive. They excel in the water; her navy is virtually unstoppable. Her daughter and heir, Princess Annabeth, is Silena’s age. A secret note from the princess is currently tucked away in Silena’s corset. 

Annabeth is engaged to Perseus, a knight and soldier in the Pylos armies. His reputation is a large one. 

“You battled the Perseus?” Silena asks, her voice ringing out across the room. 

“I did,” Ares says with a grin. She grits her teeth at the lack of respect in his tone. “The kid led an attack on our borders a few months ago. I’ll admit, he put up a good fight. He’s exceptionally well-trained. But he ran back home, just like they all do.” 

Silena knows Perseus is an exceptional swordsman. Everyone in the two kingdoms knows his name. But it’s still strange to hear that the young man battled Ares and survived. Perhaps Princess Annabeth is marrying him for the protection he can offer her. 

“Well, at least we’ll never have to see a rematch between the two of you,” Silena says, a smile coming to her face. She lifts her wine glass lazily. “Thanks to the new peace negotiations.” 

Ares smirks. “We’ll see, my lady. I wouldn’t put it past those Pylos scumbags to trick us into peace and then try to kill us all.” 

“Well,” Silena says, spitting out the words. “Let us hope not. I am going to Princess Annabeth’s wedding at the end of the week.” 

“Yes, my lady,” Ares says, bowing his head ever so slightly. His eyes are gleaming, but not with joy. Nor lust, which Silena is used to seeing in the eyes of men. No, Ares’ eyes are alight with pride and rage. “I do wish you the safest of travels, my lady.” 

Silena sets her jaw and inclines her head. “Yes, well, it’s your daughter that is sworn to protect me, General Ares. I’m sure I’ll be just fine.” 

+++++

To Silena’s dismay, Clarisse doesn’t even take a day to settle into the castle before beginning her duties. She follows behind Silena as the princess leaves the celebrations. She stays a few feet behind Silena, but never out of reach. Silena knows, logically, it’s for her own protection. She should be thankful. She’s not. 

“Must you follow me so closely?” she snaps over her shoulder. 

Clarisse, to her credit, doesn’t shrink back. She just holds her head high, a hand resting on the hilt of her sword, and continues following Silena. 

“I asked you a question.” 

Silena stops in her tracks, hands on her hips, and glares at the knight following her. Clarisse stops, too, and stares silently at Silena. She has dark brown eyes, Silena notices. 

“Do you talk?” Silena snaps. The edges of Clarisse’s lips twitch. Almost a smirk. 

“If you wish me to speak, Princess Silena, I shall. What would you like me to speak of?” Clarisse asks, her voice heavy with sarcasm. That smirk never fades from her face. 

Silena just groans and continues walking again. She hurries through the corridors of the castle, past portraits of her mother and sister, and finally reaches the stairs to her tower. Silena turns away from the portraits with a sigh and begins to climb the stairs to her room. Clarisse follows. 

Silena’s quarters aren’t nearly as luxurious as her mother’s, but they are very nice. The space opens up to a common room, which is full of bookcases and maps. There’s a game room to the side, which has a billiards table and card table. To the right, her bedroom, which is full of more bookcases, closets, armoires, and dressers. She loves clothes. She loves shoes. The evidence is all over her floor. 

“Shall I fetch a maid, Princess Silena?” Clarisse asks, eyebrows raised as she takes in the mess. 

“No,” Silena says, a flush coming to her cheeks. “I don’t allow them in my rooms. Well, that’s a lie. I allow them in, but not to clean.” 

“Then, pray tell, who cleans your quarters?” 

“I do,” Silena says, puffing out her chest. “Just, uh, not recently.” 

The door behind them opens again and in steps Silena’s favorite friend, Rachel. Her curly red hair is tied up in a knot on her head, her pale skin nearly blinding in the lantern light. She curtsies modestly in front of Clarisse, her eyes going wide. 

“Oh! Apologies, my lady, I didn’t know you’d arrived already,” Rachel says, a gleam in her eye. 

“Don’t apologize,” Silena says politely. “My knight here was just leaving.” 

Clarisse cocks an eyebrow, that infuriating smirk returning to her face. “Apologies, my lady, but I’m not. Did no one inform you I am to stay with you?” 

Silena’s mouth falls open. “You mean… here? In my bedroom ?” 

Clarisse’s eyes sparkle with amusement, “No, my lady, not in your bedroom. I was told I would have a space in your game room.” 

No, most certainly no one had told her that. 

“What?” 

Clarisse straightens, pulling her shoulders back. She takes a deep breath, then says, “I am to guard you night and day, princess. I cannot do that if I am not near you at all times.” 

At all times. 

“No, there must be a mistake,” Silena says, shaking her head. Rachel looks at her with an amused smile on her face. “I have lived nineteen years without a brute in my quarters with me. I will be just fine, thank you very much. You may go.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Clarisse replies, that smirk still pulling at her lips. Her scar stretches and tugs at her skin when she talks. “You've just been named heir to the throne of Cyprus. You're important, now — and that means there's a target on your back. Goodnight, Princess Silena.” 

On that optimistic note, Rachel shows the knight into the game room. When the door opens, Silena spies a new cot and bedside table in the room. She crosses her arms angrily and waits for her maidservant to return to her. 

When Rachel returns to the bedroom a few minutes later, she looks apologetic. 

“How could you not tell me I was to have a roommate?” Silena snaps, flopping onto the bed behind her. 

“I didn’t know until this afternoon, my lady,” Rachel says. She moves toward Silena and begins to remove the pins and jewels from Silena’s hair. “I only had an hour to prepare the room for her before your crowning ceremony. You looked lovely, by the way.” 

Silena smiles at her friend and tries to exhale all of her nerves. Today was a lot, and she’s exhausted. She’s not ready to have someone shadowing her all day every day. She’s not ready to share her quarters with a knight. A very attractive knight. 

Silena shakes her head, trying to clear herself of those thoughts. She has more pressing matters to think of.

“Shall I help you out of that dress?” Rachel asks, eyeing the lacing on the back of the dress. 

“No,” Silena says, too quickly, thinking of the paper concealed in her corset. “Thank you. That will be all, Rachel.” 

Rachel curtsies, then cleans her things from the room. Even though Silena has asked her not to a number of times, she gathers Silena’s clothes from the floor and deposits them in a basket, which she balances on her hip. 

“Even with that scar, she’s not so bad to look at, eh?” Rachel asks, jabbing a thumb at the closed door on the other side of Silena’s bedroom. 

“Oh hush, you,” Silena says, a flush rising to her cheeks. 

“Goodnight, my lady,” Rachel muses, a grin on her face. She turns on her heel and heads for the door to Silena’s chambers, humming a jaunty tune. 

“Goodnight, you devil woman!” Silena calls after her. The last thing Silena hears before her door closes is Rachel’s jovial laughter. 

+++++ 

The kingdom is on fire. People are screaming and bleeding, begging the gods to have mercy on them. It smells of blood; of death. Black smoke billows into the sky, blotting out the sunshine. Birds crash to the ground, choking to death on the smoke. 

Children collapse in the streets, blood flowing from their eyes and mouths. Screaming. So much screaming. 

Silena stands in the streets of her city as tears flow down her face. Her castle, her come, burns before her. 

“What have I done?” Silena murmurs. 

Silena wakes up screaming. She thrashes in her bed, the smell of smoke still in her nostrils. What has she done? What has she done? She’s a traitor. She’s—

Someone’s hands are on her. She shrieks again, trying to get her vision to come back into focus. It’s dark in her room, only the moonlight beyond the windows providing her any light. A tall, dark figure stands at her bedside, hands on her arms. 

Oh, gods, not this again. Not another man in her bed. Not— 

“It’s okay, princess, it’s okay,” says the person. That low, hoarse voice. A familiar voice. 

Silena blinks a few times, tears streaming down her cheeks, as the face of her knight comes into focus. Clarisse stands over her bed, one knee perched on the edge, grasping Silena’s forearms. 

Silena should probably be mortified. She should certainly be embarrassed. She should send Clarisse away immediately. 

She doesn’t do any of those things, though, because all she can do is look at Clarisse. She’s not in her armor, anymore. She’s dressed in simple trousers and a loose shirt. Silena can see more of her, now. Her arms are thick and strong, and Silena can see the muscles rippling in the moonlight. Clarisse is saying something to her, asking her something, but Silena can’t hear it. 

She focuses on Clarisse’s hands, which are no longer concealed by leather gloves. Clarisse has long fingers. Calloused hands. Strong hands, which are currently grasping Silena’s arms. Pinning them to her sides. 

“...alright? Are you alright?” Clarisse is asking her. She’s been asking for a while, now. 

“Yes,” Silena gasps. “Yes, I’m fine.” 

Clarisse immediately removes her hands from Silena’s arms and backs up a few steps. Silena shudders, suddenly cold. Clarisse’s towering frame blocks the moonlight from the window, casting the room into darkness again. 

“You were screaming,” Clarisse says, eyes wide and frantic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do, my lady. You were scratching at your arms.” 

Silena looks down at her arms. Sure enough, there are claw marks up her arms. Self-inflicted. She’s suddenly aware of the pain and winces. She swallows heavily, the embarrassment rising up in her against her will. 

“I’m sorry to have woken you,” she says. “Goodnight.” 

Clarisse nods and backs away another step. Her hair is down, Silena notices. It’s long and hangs in the most beautiful natural curls. 

“Goodnight, princess.” 

“Please, just call me Silena.” 

“Goodnight… Silena.”

Chapter 2: chapter two

Your slaps don't stick
Your kicks don't hit
So we remain the same
Love sticks, sweat drips
Break the lock if it don't fit
A kick to the teeth is good for some
A kiss with a fist is better than none

"Kiss With a Fist" by Florence + The Machine

+++++

“What does one buy for one’s mortal-enemy-turned-sort-of-ally’s wedding?” 

Silena frowns as she peruses the fabric selection in the market square. Surely Princess Annabeth would like a fabric for her wedding present? But no, Silena knows she will not. Annabeth, from what Silena can tell, is not easily impressed with material items. 

Her wedding invitation arrived two weeks ago in a formal, stiff envelope. It did not mention the princess’ interests, only suggested Silena and Piper attend to further the peace relations between the two kingdoms. 

So, now, Silena and her younger sister are trying to find an acceptable wedding present for the young princess. 

“Is she really our ally, though?” Piper replies. She picks up a silver necklace to inspect it, then returns it. 

“I suppose not,” Silena says. “She’s the daughter of our greatest enemy. Even if the peace negotiations are continuing, we must stay diligent.” 

“I’m aware, sister,” Piper says, rolling her eyes. “I’ve heard the Princess of Pylos is quite smart, though. She’s an architect, I believe. Perhaps a book?” 

Silena snorts and doesn’t respond. As she watches her sister pilfer through the various gems and jewelry in the shop, a wave of guilt rises up in her. She wishes she could share her adventures with her sister. She wishes she could tell Piper everything about Annabeth; about their current dealings. But she can’t. To do so would put Piper in danger, and Silena won’t do that.  

As they wander from store to store, stall to stall, Clarrise follows behind them dutifully. Silena and her knight still haven’t spoken of the night Silena screamed herself awake. They are cordial to each other, though Silena wishes they didn’t have to be. Slowly, so slowly, she’s gotten used to the knight’s presence. Now, when she wakes, it’s not strange to see an armored knight sitting at her table enjoying a bit of breakfast. 

And Silena would be lying if she said she didn’t find Clarisse intriguing. The woman is not super expressive; she keeps everything she feels incredibly secret. Silena can ask her a million questions a day — and she often does — but Clarisse never divulges any personal information. It’s rather infuriating. 

Silena groans loudly and fists her hand in her dress skirt. What the hell is she supposed to bring to this wedding? It’s customary to bring a gift for the bride and groom. She settled on a book about architecture for the princess, but now she must find something for the man. But she knows very little of Perseus; only that he’s a soldier. 

“What would you get him?” Silena asks Clarisse. 

The knight raises an eyebrow, her lips flattening into a straight line. Piper continues before them, leaving Silena and Clarisse to walk side by side.

“Come now, Clarisse, you must have an opinion,” Silena muses, offering the knight a smile. 

“It’s not my job to ponder such things,” Clarisse answers, keeping her eyes on the crowd around them. Her gloved hand remains dutifully on the hilt of her sword. 

“I did not ask because I thought it your duty,” Silena snorts. “I just wondered your opinion.” 

“Why?” 

“I—” Silena trails off, unsure how to answer. Clarisse’s head is cocked, her eyes finally on Silena and not the crowd. That’s when Silena realizes why she enjoys asking the knight so many questions; she likes it when Clarisse looks at her. “I just wondered, that’s all.” 

Silena drops it and pushes through the crowd. Piper is a few yards ahead of them, chatting up a stall owner. Piper has always been so much better at getting people to like her. No matter what she does, Silena always comes off as prim. Proper. Standoffish. Serious. But Piper is kind and generous, and it shows in every conversation she has with their people. 

Piper laughs, as does the shopkeeper, and they continue talking like old friends. 

“He’s a soldier, is he not?” 

Silena startles, having forgotten Clarisse was so close. Always so close . “What?” she asks, her thoughts a jumbled mess. 

“Perseus. He’s a soldier, isn’t he?” Clarisse says. 

“You already know that he is,” Silena says, raising her eyebrow at the knight. “Your father fought him. You know what Perseus is.” 

Clarisse blushes. She looks away from Silena quickly, eyes returning to the crowd. But she still says, “True enough. I’ve actually… well, it doesn’t matter now. All soldiers enjoy a good sword. Perhaps you could honor him with a weapon.” 

Silena had thought of that, of course. Perseus is a man, and men like swords. But something about the way Clarisse says it, honor him with a weapon, makes Silena hesitate. She knows soldiers adore their weapons. She’s seen many a knight hold his sword more fondly than his lover. 

Even now, she notices the way Clarisse’s fingertips brush over her sword’s hilt. A featherlight touch; the contact a reassurance. Silena wonders what it must be like to have such confidence in a weapon. Strapped across Clarisse’s back is a spear made of a metal Silena doesn’t recognize. 

There must be a reason why so many soldiers name and treasure their weapons. 

“Would you look with me?” Silena asks Clarisse, her voice sounding far more vulnerable than she’d like to admit. Clarisse just nods stoically, eyes never meeting Silena’s. 

+++++

They pack up and leave that very evening. The trip to Pylos’ castle is not a long one, only a two-day ride at most. Silena and Piper climb into their carriage, their father helping them up into it. When Tristan does not immediately let go of Silena’s hand, she looks at him curiously. 

“What is it, Father?” 

Tristan just smiles, looking exhausted. He hands her and Piper wrapped chocolates. That’s his new obsession; recreating gourmet chocolates with his own hands. They usually taste like wood shavings. Piper grimaces, forces a smile, and sits further back into the carriage. 

“Be careful, love,” Father says. “I worry about you going to Pylos without protection.” 

“Without protection?” Silena laughs. “You and Mother are sending us there with nearly thirty soldiers, plus my own personal guard.” 

She spares a glance at Clarisse, who is sitting atop a powerful warhorse not far from the princesses’ carriage. 

“Promise me you’ll be careful,” Father says, squeezing her hand again. “We may be discussing peace, but nothing is set in stone yet, dove. Pylos is a dangerous place for our family to be.” 

“That is all the more reason for me to go,” Silena tells him gently. “If peace is to prosper in our kingdoms, Pylos needs to know we’re serious. Our people need to know we’re serious, Father. I can do this. Besides, it’s just a wedding, not a diplomatic meeting.” 

Her father relaxes, his grip on her hand lessening. He lets her go, a smile returning to his face. “When did you get so wise, eh? What happened to my little girl?” 

She grew up. 

She kisses her father on the cheek, then settles back into the carriage. Piper grins, already slouching and uncrossing her legs. That is an upside to traveling without parents; you get to relax, if just for a bit. 

As the carriage jolts into movement, Silena takes one last look at her father and smiles. It’ll be good to get out of Cyprus for a while. 

She sits back in her cushioned seat, pulling a book into her lap. The sun will begin to set in a few hours, and she wants to make it through a few more chapters before then. 

+++++ 

It takes them a few hours to reach the border of the kingdom. The two kingdoms of Olympia, Cyprus and Pylos, are divided by a massive river. Both Piper and Silena look out the windows as they cross over a massive bridge. The swirling waters of the River Styx crash below them. The sight makes Silena’s stomach turn. 

The bridge stands nearly a hundred feet over the river. One wrong move, and a horse and rider could plunge to their deaths. Silena has heard stories of gangs waiting on either side of the bridge, ready to shove people off if they don’t pay a toll. 

But then their caravan is over the river, and officially in Pylos. This is the furthest Silena and Piper have ever been from home. Because of the war with Pylos, they’ve never stepped foot outside of their home kingdom. Now that peace negotiations are underway, maybe there’s a chance Silena will one day get to travel the foreign kingdom. 

Clarisse rides up next to the window of the carriage, her braid flapping against her back as she does. 

“We’re going to stop for the night,” she calls. Silena nods in understanding. 

An hour later, Silena is sitting around a fire, warming her hands. Piper has already gone to bed, her tent mere yards from Silena. The squadron of soldiers Queen Aphrodite sent with them has established a regular routine. At all times, eight guards are patrolling their small camp. The rest of them sleep or eat, and then prepare for their shift. 

Clarisse, however, sits next to Silena on a log. 

“Do you ever get time to yourself?” Silena asks, curious. 

“What do you mean?” Clarisse asks, not looking at her. 

“In this position, as my knight, do you ever get time to yourself? I know your vow says you have to guard me day and night, but surely that’s not sustainable. Do you get a day off? Do you sleep? You must sleep. I don’t believe you’ll make a very good knight if you don’t sleep.” 

Clarisse’s lips twitch upwards into a smile again, though she still won’t look directly at Silena. “I sleep, I promise.” 

“Do you get holidays off?” 

At that, Clarisse cracks a smile. It’s like the clouds parting after a storm; like sunshine on a rainy day. Rare and beautiful. Silena feels warm and delighted that she made Clarisse smile. 

“I’m afraid not,” Clarisse replies, this time sparing Silena a glance. “Has anyone ever told you that you ask a lot of questions?” 

Silena shrugs and looks back at the fire, at the sparks rising higher and higher into the night sky. 

“People usually like it when I ask them questions. I’m the daughter of Queen Aphrodite, remember? My attention is better than the attention of any woman, priest, or god,” Silena grumbles. 

Clarisse smirks, “Is it? I had no idea.” 

Silena’s lips part in a smile. She likes this version of Clarisse. Informal, teasing, a little rude. Silena leans in, eager to stir up another verbal fight, when she hears a shout. 

Clarisse is up and off the log in a matter of seconds, her spear in hand. How did she move so quickly ? Clarisse drags Silena up onto her feet, placing Silena behind her. Around them, panicked shouts rise up from the guards on duty. 

“What is it?” one of them shouts. 

“It’s — AHHHH !” 

Silena’s heart is racing in her chest, her hands growing sweaty. She scans the campsite, trying to pinpoint where the guards are stationed. Others are crawling out of their tents and cots, clearly hearing the disturbance. 

“Stay behind me, Silena,” Clarisse growls. Her tone is so unlike her normal, monotone answers. This one is authoritarian, demanding. In control. Silena obeys. 

Someone shouts, and then the most horrific sound pierces the night. A sound like ripping flesh. A scream. A growl. Something steps out of the midnight shadows, eyes gleaming. It’s a… wild cat? No, no it’s not. 

The creature prowls into camp, eyes gleaming, blood dripping from its maw. When it stands beside the fire, Silena can see it fully. The creature has the body of a stag, the head of a lion, cloven hooves, and a wide mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. 

It steps forward and levels its gaze at Clarisse. It growls again. 

One of the guards surges forward with a spear, attempting to wound it. The creature jumps out of the way and bites down on the soldier’s shoulder, causing the man to scream. The sound is so startling, so terrifying, that Silena stumbles back a step. 

“Guard the princesses!” Clarisse shouts. 

And then she jumps into the fight. Silena gasps, reaches a hand out to stop her, but the knight is already surging forward. The creature drops the soldier to the ground and allows Clarisse to approach. 

Clarisse swings her spear at the monster, catching it across the chest. The beast shrieks and stumbles back, a steady line of blood dripping from its face. It lunges at Clarisse, teeth bared, and Silena is about to shout—

Clarisse whirls in a circle, quicker than Silena can follow, and slams her sword through the beast’s head. The thing crumples to the ground with a hollow growl. And then it dies. 

Clarisse stands next to the fire, breathing heavily, without a scratch on her. The firelight reflects off her silver armor, making her look otherworldly. Powerful. She turns her head to look at Silena, her dark eyes just as fiery. The scar across her face ripples in the firelight. 

Silena has never seen such a display of power. She’s seen Queen Aphrodite speak in war councils, she’s seen General Ares duel other soldiers, and she’s seen war. But she’s never seen anything like the lithe, controlled power of Clarisse’s violence. It’s… alluring.

“Are you okay?” Silena calls, breathless. 

Clarisse looks confused, as if unsure if Silena is talking to her. She nods, though, before turning to look at the captain. “Patrol the area. See if any others are waiting in the tall grass.” 

The captain, Rhao, bristles at Clarisse’s commanding tone. “You don’t give the orders here, La Rue.” 

“I just saved your ass,” Clarisse snarls, shoving a finger at his chest. The anger in her voice roots Silena to the spot. “But you’re right, Rhao. I’m not in charge here. This isn’t the battlefield. Remember that? Remember the day I saved your squadron on the fields of Paphos?” 

Captain Rhao, whom Silena has known for years, shrinks away from Clarisse. Rhao is nearly forty-five and has seen countless battles, but even he stands in the shadow of her knight. 

“Aye, I do,” Rhao says, a shadow passing over his face. “But you’d do well to remember your place here, girl.” 

With that, the captain turns away and barks orders at his men. Silena wants to know, oh gods she wants to know. She also, strangely enough, wants to make sure Clarisse isn’t injured. She’s never cared about the physical safety of her guards like this. She usually trusts them to look after themselves. 

Silena tentatively approaches her knight, who is still breathing heavily. The creature lies at her feet, blood seeping into the ground of Pylos. 

“What is it?” Silena asks, eyeing the monster. 

“A leucrocotta,” Clarisse says, wiping a hand down her face. “Many horrid creatures run wild in Pylos. This won’t be the last monster you see here.” 

“You’ve spent time in Pylos?” Silena asks, intrigued. 

Clarisse turns away from her, “I was a soldier, princess. I spent time everywhere.” 

Before Silena can ask more questions, or check Clarisse for injuries, Clarisse stalks away from her. She pulls her spear from the monster's body, cleans it, and then straps it across her back. Clarisse crouches down next to the monster and pulls out one of its teeth, pocketing the trophy. Then she hauls the monster over her shoulder, like it’s nothing, and carries it out of the camp. 

Gods, how strong is she? The monster is the size of a full-grown buck, not to mention the lion’s head. Clarisse lugs the monster’s carcass away from camp until she disappears into the darkness of the night. 

Silena swallows down her nerves and wipes her sweaty hands on her dress. When she enters her shared tent, Piper pokes a head out from underneath her furs and blankets.

“Did I miss anything good?” Piper asks sleepily. 

“No. Go back to sleep.” 

+++++ 

They arrive in Pylos the following evening. The kingdom is very similar to Silena’s own home; grassy mountains, wide rivers, white-sand beaches. Pylos feels familiar, though Silena has never stepped foot in the country. The one stark difference, though, is Pylos is much more technologically advanced. As they traveled up the coast, to the capital city, Silena and Piper spotted dozens of ships in the harbor. Some were mere fishing boats, but others were warships. 

Cyprus has a navy, of course. Silena has been on a boat. But Pylos’ soldiers are just better in the water. It’s in their blood. Aqueducts and paved roads lead the way into the city.

The capital city of the foreign country, Athens, is full of white-stone buildings. Silena thinks it’s rather arrogant to name a city after a queen, but whatever. The houses and shops are so close together they might as well be stacked on top of one another. The markets are busy and full, the merchants and shoppers all dressed in brightly colored clothes. Children laugh as they run through the streets. 

Silena stays glued to the window of the carriage, eager to see as much of the city as she can. The effects of war are easily seen, too. Burned crops, destroyed buildings, and battle-weary soldiers line the roads of the city. Silena is familiar with that, too. This place is just like home. 

The castle itself is gorgeous. Parts of it are white limestone, like the foundation and main entrance to the castle. The towers glisten in the afternoon sunlight. Wide, sprawling courtyards and columned pavilions litter the entrance to the castle. As the carriage winds up the path to the castle’s main gates, they pass gardens full of luscious green plants and exotic flowers. 

When the carriage comes to a stop in the courtyard, Silena spies the foreign royals standing on the steps of the palace. She dares a glance at Piper, who looks just as nervous as Silena feels. 

“We can do this,” Silena says, hoping she sounds convincing. 

She smooths the wrinkles in her dress and steps out of the carriage. Her guards help her down. She knows, without even looking, that Clarisse is standing behind her. Silena can feel her presence, and she’s surprised to find it welcoming and reassuring. 

Silena curtsies in front of Queen Athena. She’s a tall, beautiful woman, with dark skin and dark hair. She’s dressed formally, in dark clothes and a red robe. Her golden crown gleams in the sunlight. 

“Welcome, princesses of Cyprus,” the queen says. “We are most grateful you have joined us.” 

Silena slowly rises from her curtsy, as does her sister. She casts a wary look at the other nobles, her eyes immediately landing on two men. One of them is tall and lithe, with a head full of dark hair. He has a scar on his face, over his eye. But his smile is bright, and he dips his head in a show of respect to Silena. 

The other man Silena already knows. Perseus. He’s shorter than his friend, but he’s just as lithe and muscular. His wavy blonde hair is just as golden as Silena has heard. His smile is just as bright. The greatest swordsman in Pylos. 

“Allow me to introduce my future son-in-law, Perseus,” Athena says with distaste. The man steps forward, placing a kiss on Silena’s hand. “And this is Luke Castellan, the son of my most trusted advisor, Hermes.” 

The dark-haired man steps forward, also placing a kiss on Silena’s hand. His skin is warm to the touch. His bright eyes sparkle when he looks at Silena. 

“The pleasure is mine,” Silena says, bringing a bright, shining smile to her face. She knows she’s beautiful; she is the daughter of Aphrodite. She bats her eyelashes for the royal men and beams, saying, “We are most honored to be here for your wedding, Perseus.” 

Perseus beams, a look of true delight overtaking his features. “Princess Annabeth is already inside the castle, pouring over last-minute wedding plans. She is eager to meet you. May I?” 

Silena takes his arm, and Piper takes Luke’s, and they allow themselves to be led into the castle. The inside is just as beautiful as the outside. The walls are made of the most beautiful stones and shells. There are so many windows and light fixtures, too, which makes the whole place feel bright and airy. 

A mosaic on the floor shows an exact map of the palace grounds and the surrounding oceans. Silena is sure she could stand and gawk at it all day, but the knight continues leading her down the hall, oblivious to the beauties of his own home. 

Perseus leads them into a study. The room is full of dark furniture and towering bookshelves, but Silena doesn’t have time to be awed by its magnificence. Standing before her, at a circular table, is a beautiful dark-skinned woman. She’s tall, slender, and muscular, and her braids are pulled into a ponytail behind her. Golden beads and charms are woven into her hair, and they catch the light as Silena looks at her. She’s beautiful. 

“Princess Silena, this is my fiance, Princess Annabeth,” Perseus says, still beaming. 

The woman turns to look at them. Her face is just as lovely as the rest of her. Her grey eyes are dark and full of curiosity. 

“Annabeth is not only a princess, politician, and ruler, she’s also an accomplished scholar and architect,” Perseus says, dropping Silena’s arm and crossing the room to stand by his bride-to-be. 

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Silena says, meaning every word. She dips into a low curtsy. 

“Please, don’t listen to his bragging,” Annabeth says with a bright smile. “It’s an honor to meet you both. I’ve longed for this day.” 

“Was it you that worked on the Styx bridge last year?” Piper asks. 

“It was,” Annabeth responds, looking proud. “It was starting to wear down after so much travel. I helped engineer a new plan for the stability of the bridge. Did you cross it on your travels?” 

“We did,” Piper answers, eyeing Annabeth with interest. “It held, so I’d say you did a good job.” 

Annabeth laughs, tossing her head back. Silena can’t help but smile too. She’s overcome with a wave of comfort. She made a good choice in allying with this woman. She can feel it. 

“We should settle in, my lady.” 

Clarisse’s voice behind her pulls Silena back down to the ground, to the moment. She’d nearly forgotten where she was. For a moment, it was like she was amongst friends. She’d forgotten she was talking with the children and allies of her kingdom’s longest enemy. 

“Of course,” Annabeth says, smile fading. 

Before she can continue, Perseus steps forward and scans their group, smiling politely at Piper, Silena, and the two guards with them, and… his eyes narrow on Clarisse. “It’s you.” 

Silena looks over her shoulder at her knight, only to see a smirk tugging at Clarisse’s lips. She hides it well, but Silena is used to looking at Clarisse, now. She can read her better than she could a week ago. Clarisse is barely holding back a sneer. 

“Perseus, it’s an honor to meet you,” Clarisse says, bowing lowly. 

“ Again ,” Perseus replies, a smile on his own face. “If I recall, the last time we met you nearly put a spear through my stomach.” 

Silena’s heart starts racing. Oh gods, did Clarisse battle against Perseus? She knew Ares did, but did Clarisse? Is Annabeth going to demand her life in compensation? It wouldn’t exactly be good manners, but she has every right to do it, if she so wishes. They are in her home, after all.

“Yes, I did,” Clarisse responds, tone unwavering. “Pity you have such an excellent block.” 

Silena glares at her knight, silently begging the woman to shut up. But Clarisse’s eyes are narrowed on Perseus, now. A proud smirk is etched across her face. Silena looks back to the soon-to-be-prince-consort worriedly, trying to gauge where this conversation is about to go. 

Perseus cocks his head to the side, studying Clarisse. For a very tense moment, nothing happens. No one speaks. Silena holds her breath, praying for the safety of her knight. She doesn’t stop to think why she’s so scared for her. 

“Well, perhaps you’ll have to teach me a thing or two, eh?” says the other man — Luke. The advisor’s son. It’s the first time Silena has heard him speak, and she has to admit, he has a lovely voice. It slices through the tension like butter, making Silena relax her shoulders. 

“Me or her?” Percy asks, raising an eyebrow teasingly. 

“Her!” Luke grins, clapping his friend on the back. “I taught you everything you know, kid. Maybe I can learn a thing or two from her.” 

Silena tenses, ready for anger. Ready for a duel. But Percy just laughs with his friend, and the tension passes. He dips his head in respect to Clarisse, who returns the acknowledgment. Silena exhales deeply and does everything in her power not to smack Clarisse. 

Annabeth watches them warily, been when she sees the tension leave her fiance’s shoulders, she smiles at Silena again. 

“Come, let’s get you settled in,” Annabeth says. She crosses the room and grabs Piper’s arm like they’re old friends. She smiles kindly at Silena. “The wedding is tomorrow afternoon, but there’s going to be a massive dinner party tonight. You’ll want your rest before then.”

Chapter 3: chapter three

Some say I should learn to cry
But I only just learned how to fight
And I know everything must die
But nothing fades like the light

"Nothing Fades Like the Light" by Orville Peck

+++++

“If you ever do something that reckless again, I’ll have you removed from your position!” 

Silena doesn’t remember pushing the knight up against the wall, but now that Clarisse is pinned between her and the stone of the castle, she allows her anger to rise. Clarisse looks down at her, eyes narrowed on Silena’s face. 

“I was not aware greeting the princess’ future husband was reckless.” 

Silena grits her teeth and pushes at Clarisse some more, though it’s kind of pathetic, considering the knight is decked out in armor. And she’s much shorter than Clarisse. She pushes Clarisse anyway. 

“You openly challenged him and said you regretted not killing him, ” Silena hisses. “Are you trying to get us all killed?” 

“No, princess.” 

“Then why the fuck would you fucking say something like that?” 

Clarisse’s eyes widen. Her lips part ever so slightly, the only hint that she’s surprised. Clarisse’s voice is low when she says, “You have a very dirty mouth, princess.” 

Silena groans and removes her hands from Clarisse’s arms. She backs away from her, running a hand through her dark hair. Across the hall, Piper is likely already preparing herself for the dinner party, which begins soon. Silena should be getting ready. She should probably be bathing, actually. A few maidservants are waiting for her in the bathroom. But as soon as that door had closed behind Clarisse, she’d jumped.

“Don’t do that again,” Silena says, breathing heavily. “Your pride will get us killed.” 

Clarisse opens her mouth, likely to snap a response, but then she closes it. Hesitates. Thinks it over. Then she bows her head, “You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

Silena blinks, surprised Clarisse rolled over so easily. Usually, they go back and forth on these sorts of things. Silena loves their arguments. 

“Did you really fight against him on the battlefields?” 

Clarisse nods, eyes suddenly glassy. “I did. He bested my father, you know. I watched him disarm my father and put the point of his sword to Ares’ throat.” 

Silena stands absolutely still, acutely aware of the secret being shared. “But Ares said…” 

“My father is a proud man,” Clarisse grumbles. “He would never admit to a child beating him.” 

So the war general has been lying to everyone, for the sake of pride. It’s almost enough to make Silena laugh. Oh, she wishes she could rub that in Ares’ face. A twenty-year-old bested him. Incredible. 

“Why didn’t Percy kill him?” Silena says instead. I certainly would have, she wants to add. 

“I stopped him,” Clarisse responds, rubbing the back of her neck. “We fought. It was… brutal. He gave me this, you know.” 

She motions to the scar across her cheek, the one that follows the curve of her face. It’s a jagged scar — Silena doesn’t want to know what the wound looked like. 

“You both still live,” Silena says. “How?”

“We certainly tried to kill each other,” Clarisse says, huffing out a laugh. “But we just… couldn’t. This was months ago, before the peace treaties. I had no qualms about killing a would-be prince. I knew who he was; I knew he was important to Pylos and the princess. But I… I couldn’t beat him. He couldn’t beat me. We fought for hours, it felt like. Then we just… stopped. Walked away, back to our own sides of the battlefield.” 

Silena forgets, sometimes, that Clarisse was a soldier. All knights have to serve as soldiers before they can be promoted to knighthood. It isn’t shocking. It isn’t rare. But she still forgets that this woman, lovely and yet horrible, has been to war. Killed dozens, maybe hundreds, of people. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re not dead,” Silena mutters. 

“Really?” Clarisse responds, raising an eyebrow. “Just two minutes ago I thought you were ready to shove a knife in my throat.” 

“Well, yes, maybe I was,” Silena says, taken aback. Heat rushes to her cheeks. “But I’m still glad you’re not dead. Who would be my annoying guard dog if not for you?” 

Clarisse’s lips curl into a wicked smile. She says nothing else, though, and allows Silena to move on to the washroom in peace. Silena closes the door to the bathroom and undresses, allowing the maids to scrub her body and wash her hair. 

Afterward, they dress her in a stunning lavender gown. It’s not like the sheer, lacy dresses back home that Aphrodite loves. Her mother loves showing off her curves and beauty. And Silena loves the same, if she’s honest. But this gown is… simple. It’s soft and comfortable, and to Silena’s delight, it doesn’t require a corset. 

The maids pull her hair up off her neck and style it in a beautiful updo, allowing a few curls to fall and frame her face. They place silver pins and charms in her hair; silver jewelry around her neck and wrists. When she finally leaves the bedroom nearly an hour later, Silena feels positively radiant. 

Clarisse has taken the time to clean up, too. She’s washed her hair, which now falls around her face in loose curls. She’s not wearing armor tonight, either. Instead, she’s dressed in nice trousers and a leather coat. Her sword remains at her side, as her spear does across her back. Her gloves are still on her hands. 

“You look different,” Silena says, arching an eyebrow. 

Clarisse just looks at her for a moment, eyes wide. Then, she says, “You do too, princess.” 

They say nothing else to each other before exiting their quarters and collecting Piper from her room. Piper is dressed in a similar gown, except hers is a coral color that brings out a glow in her tanned skin. Whatever makes Aphrodite and Piper so tan certainly did not pass on to Silena; she inherited her father’s pastiness. 

The princesses walk side by side into the dinner hall, which is just as grand and beautiful as the rest of Athena’s castle. The party is already in full swing, with various tables set up with food, drinks, and sweets. The guests mill around, chatting and dancing. 

Silena swallows her nerves and lifts her chin. She is the princess and heir of Cyprus. She will not be afraid. A room full of people and wine is her kind of battlefield. This is where she excels; this is where she fights. She will not be afraid.

Piper wanders off immediately to find Annabeth, a clear friendship already blossoming between the two princesses. Silena tries not to be jealous and focuses her attention on the men in the room. She needs to speak with Annabeth tonight. In private. They need to discuss the letter she sent last week. But before then, it’s important that Silena is seen mingling with the crowd. 

Silena finds her attention stolen by Luke Castellan. He’s currently dancing with a beautiful woman, gracefully leading her in circles around the dance floor. 

“Are you eager for a dance with the young lord?” 

Silena startles, but smiles kindly at the woman standing next to her. Gods, she’s gorgeous, too. Is everyone in Pylos beautiful? The woman is dressed in a deep purple gown, her skin tan and her hair dark. Her face is angular, all sharp lines and edges. But she’s undoubtedly beautiful. 

“Is there a line I should join?” Silena asks teasingly. “Lord Castellan seems very popular this evening.” 

The woman smirks. “Lord Castellan is popular with women no matter where he goes. He’s a bit of a rake, if I’m honest.” 

“I shall keep that in mind,” Silena says. “Thank you, uh…”

“Reyna Ramírez-Arellano,” the woman says, bowing slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, princess. I am the eldest daughter of Bellona, the queen’s chief war advisor.” 

“Ah, I see,” Silena says, eyeing the dance floor. “Did you grow up here, in the castle?” 

“Yes, my lady. I grew up alongside Annabeth, Luke, and a few others who have important parents,” Reyna says, her lips flattening into a straight line. “I understand you are… interested in speaking with the princess this evening.” 

Silena tenses, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest. Does Reyna know…? Is she one of Annabeth’s trusted confidantes? Silena’s breathing quickens, so she dries her sweaty palms on her dress and forces a lazy, easy-going smile to her face. She’s had years of practice; no one ever picks up on her panic. 

“Yes, Lady Reyna, I am.”

Reyna looks at her, then. Really looks at her. Those dark, narrow eyes seem to analyze everything about Silena’s appearance. Reyna frowns, but nods decisively. 

“She’s waiting for you in the study,” Reyna says, voice low. “Now is the best time to go unseen.” 

“Thank you, my lady,” Silena whispers. “Will you… accompany me?” 

“No,” Reyna says with a slight shake of her head. “It’s best there are still some young folk seen here. We wouldn’t all want to go missing.” 

Silena nods, agreeing. “Would you keep an eye on my sister while I’m gone? She’s just over there.” 

Silena nods her head in Piper’s direction. Piper is currently chatting with a young woman near the dessert table. If Silena knows her sister… Piper is probably trying to figure out where the stronger liquor is kept. 

“I will,” Reyna says, eyes narrowing on Piper. “Now go, princess. There isn’t much time.”

+++++

Clarisse follows her at a distance, never asking why Silena has suddenly decided to leave the part. Silena wanders through the halls of the unfamiliar castle, trying to remember the way to the study. 

Finally, after a few twists and turns down confusing corridors, Silena finds the study. Lantern light flickers underneath the closed door. 

This could be a trap. Annabeth could have lured her here under false pretenses, warned her mother, and set a trap for Silena. If she goes in there, with the intention of treason, and soldiers are waiting on the other side… 

She takes a deep breath. Then another. Her palm rests on the door, ready to push it open. 

She has to trust Annabeth. She has to trust that she wants what is best for her kingdom. She has to trust that she’s been honest with Silena, as Silena has been with her. 

“Wait out here,” Silena tells Clarisse. 

“But—” 

“Wait. Out. Here.” 

Silena doesn’t wait for an argument. She pushes the door open, steps into the light of the room, and securely closes the door behind her. Percy and Annabeth are sprawled on a sofa in the room, deep in a quiet conversation. Luke Castellan is sitting at a table near them. When had he left the party? Silena could have sworn he was still there when she left. 

“You came,” Annabeth says, sounding somewhat shocked. 

“This isn’t a trap, is it?” Silena asks warily, aware of how outnumbered she is in this room. Maybe she should have let Clarisse come with her. 

“If it was, would we tell you?” Luke says with a grin. 

Annabeth smacks his arm and turns to face Silena. She smiles kindly, which steadies the racing in Silena’s heart. 

“This is no trap,” the pretty architect says. “You received our letter, yes?” 

Silena nods and sits at the table across from Luke. She and Princess Annabeth have secretly been exchanging letters for months, now. Ever since the peace treaties were first discussed. Their kingdoms have been at war for decades. Thousands have died in this endless war. When peace became an option… Silena had to reach out. 

And slowly, a friendship was built. A trust. She and Annabeth have discussed their kingdoms at great lengths. Have discussed their dreams for the future. Their dreams for peace. 

“You know my dreams,” Silena tells Annabeth. “You know that we must do everything in our power to make sure these peace treaties are finalized.” 

Annabeth nods, solemn. “I am tired of war. I am tired of death. I want…” she takes Percy’s hand in her own. “I want my home to flourish.” 

“Pylos is warlorn. Destroyed. Ravaged,” Silena says. “And my home is the same. So many have died to get us where we are, and yet… peace hangs in the balance. My mother wants to expand our borders into your territory, and your mother wants the same for Pylos. No agreements have been reached, yet, and I worry that if peace does not come soon… we will again resort to war.” 

It’s happened before. This is not the first time Pylos and Cyprus have tried for peace. Two decades ago, right before Silena was born, Aphrodite and Athena almost made peace. It had been five years of brutal, savage war between their countries. And yet, the peace treaties were never finalized. They went back to war because of pride and greed. 

“We have something now that our countries did not have then,” Annabeth says, gazing lovingly at her fiance. She looks back at Silena, her face set determinedly. “Each other. A daughter of Athena and a daughter of Aphrodite should not be friends. We were meant to be enemies. But… together, maybe we can undo what our parents have done.” 

Silena loves her mother, of course. It is hard to hate the person who brought you into the world. And Silena is so much like her mother. But Queen Aphrodite is… greedy. Competitive. She cares more about the luxuries of her castle than the people dying in the streets. Because of this endless war with Pylos, Silena’s people are starving. No one can afford to send their children to school. More and more people are being forced into labor. Some join the army, others join the pleasure houses. 

Silena knows Cyprus was once a beautiful, revolutionary kingdom. It was happy. Peaceful. Flourishing. But Aphrodite is a greedy ruler. A proud ruler. This grudge between her and Athena… it’s going to kill them all. 

“I’m sorry to bring such heavy topics to the evening before your wedding,” Silena says, smiling apologetically at Annabeth and Percy. “But you’re right. This needs to happen now.” 

“You understand this is treason, right?” Annabeth murmurs. 

“I do,” Silena replies. “But it must happen. Now, have you been able to finish that plan you mentioned in your letter?” 

Annabeth spreads her hands, a smile coming to her face. “I think so, yes. We need the peace treaties to be finalized, right? Well, our mothers are never going to do it. They’re too proud. We need to be the ones sitting on the thrones. Once I’m married to Percy, I’ll have even more political power than I do now. I already have allies here in court. People are tired of war, they’re tired of Athena sending their children to die on battlefields. Over the next few months, I plan on sewing discord in my court. I plan to overthrow my mother.” 

Annabeth’s words hang in the air, treasonous and dangerous. But Silena is not afraid. 

“You want me to do the same in Cyprus, don’t you?” she asks. Annabeth nods. “It won’t be easy. Aphrodite, my mother, she’s… she’s loved by her court. All she has to do is open her mouth, and people fall on their swords for her. It is a kind of power I am still trying to learn. We are not just pretty faces, in Cyprus. We are pretty words. We are passion, devotion, love. I will have to work hard to undo the webs my mother has created in her own court.” 

Annabeth nods sympathetically. “My job is not going to be as hard as yours, I’m afraid. In Pylos we are all about logic. If I can prove I’m better suited for the kingdom, it won’t take much to convince my court. But yours… your task is going to be hard, Silena.” 

“I know,” Silena says softly. “But I will do it.”  

Annabeth pulls her into a hug, surprising them both. But Silena hugs her back fiercely. They should not be friends. They should not be acquaintances. But here they are.

“If you manage to succeed,” Luke says, breaking the comfortable silence. “There is still a chance violence could break out in the kingdoms. Not everyone will be convinced. Some will stay loyal to Athena and Aphrodite, no matter what.” 

Annabeth nods. “I know. Which is why we’re going to need allies. I think we should reach out to the continents beyond Olympia.” 

Silena gapes at her, “What? Like who? There are thousands of miles of oceans separating us from any other continent. We don’t know them.” 

We can’t trust them. 

“I know, but… we still might need them,” Annabeth says, sounding miserable. “Let’s not think of that tonight, though. We have months of work ahead of us before we can even think of armies and allies.” 

“I have friends and family beyond this continent,” Luke says, rubbing his chin. “I could send word to them? Ask them about their rulers?” 

“It’s a start,” Silena says, nodding. “I would be grateful if you shared what you learn.” 

Luke grins, the scar down his face rippling as he does so. “Of course, my lady. We are friends now, are we not? There are no secrets amongst friends.” 

That’s a lie. Silena has plenty of friends, and none of them know what she’s doing here. But she doesn’t mention that. Instead, she smiles at Luke and nods in agreement. 

She could see herself marrying someone like him, if she’s honest. She hasn’t thought much of marriage in the past. Aphrodite says her daughters will marry for love, or not at all. She has promised not to arrange marriages for them, which Silena is both annoyed by and thankful for. 

Marrying someone like Luke would be easy. They’d be friends. He’d tease her, she’d tease him. There would be a good foundation in their marriage. He’s handsome, too, with his dark hair and soft eyes. He could protect her, if that greatsword strapped on his back is any proof. He’d be a good choice. She’ll have to keep him in mind. 

“You should get back to your party,” Silena says, “Before someone wonders where the happy couple is the night before their wedding.” 

Annabeth and Percy laugh and rise from their position on the couch. When Percy takes her hand, so softly and tenderly, Silena’s breath hitches. Whatever this marriage between them entails, Silena knows it is for more than political power. There is love between them. Care. Adoration. 

Silena swallows heavily and looks away from them. 

+++++ 

The wedding takes place the very next afternoon, and it’s absolutely perfect in every way. The gardens are decorated with all sorts of finery. Rose petals are sprinkled throughout the grass. 

Annabeth walks down the aisle in a simple white dress. It’s not as over the top as it would be in Silena’s home country, but it’s still perfect. It cinches at the waist, highlighting Annabeth’s hips. Gold embellishments line the dress, making her dark skin sparkle under the sun. 

Percy waits for her at the opposite end of the aisle, dressed in a deep blue traditional suit. His blond curls are somewhat tamed for the ceremony, and a beautiful smile rests on his lips. 

Silena sits and watches, Piper and Clarisse next to her, and she almost cries. She’s been to dozens of weddings before; they’re very common in Cyprus. So are divorces. But she’s never seen such obvious love and adoration between a couple, which is insane since her mother is known for fostering love and adoration throughout the kingdom. 

Queen Athena remains tight-lipped and solemn throughout the ceremony. She doesn’t smile once. She must not like her new son-in-law. When the ceremony ends, and Percy and Annabeth are declared husband and wife, Silena cheers. She even sheds a few tears for the people she’s known for two days. 

The wedding feast and celebration take place in the gardens as well. Servants flit on by, holding trays of sandwiches, roast chicken, champagne, and all sorts of goodies. Silena indulges in the finery; especially the alcohol. 

By the time the sun sets, she’s feeling very warm and bubbly. Piper is chattering next to her, rambling on about some hot girl she’d talked to the night before. Silena stumbles, her heel getting lodged in the soft grass underfoot. 

Clarisse is there immediately, grabbing her arm and steadying her. Silena suddenly wishes Clarisse would stop wearing those leather gloves. She wants to feel her hands, again. 

“Thank you,” Silena says, smiling sweetly at Clarisse. The knight won’t even look at her. 

They continue walking, and Silena continues sipping on her champagne. As the sun gets lower and lower in the sky, servants begin lighting lanterns and candles around the garden. It’s truly beautiful. The stars shine overhead, and Silena wonders if they’re sparkling extra bright tonight to support the new couple. 

Annabeth and Percy wander through the crowds of people, hand in hand, smiling. They talk to nobles, lords, and ladies as they walk, but for the most part, they just look at each other. Utterly and hopelessly happy in love. 

Silena frowns and grabs another glass of champagne. 

It’s at that exact moment she notices movement in the bushes. She narrows her eyes at the shadowy bushes. The celebration is being held in the center of the gardens, which means all the attendees had to twist and turn through a maze of bushes, hedges, and trees to get there. It was beautiful, but a bit impractical. 

Now, though, Silena is sure someone is running through the hedges. The plants rattle again. 

“Clarisse, do you think—” 

Silena turns, intending to ask her knight a question, and sees an arrow slam into Clarisse’s body.

Chapter 4: chapter four

Summary:

Clarisse's POV!!

I will not be great
But I'm grateful to get through
The feeling came late
I'm still glad I met you

"Abstract (Psychopomp)" by Hozier

+++++

Clarisse was not enjoying the night, even before she got struck by an arrow.

She doesn’t like weddings. They’re such happy, mushy-gushy affairs. Everyone gets drunk and dances, or they cry and want to talk about true love. It’s embarrassing for them, really.

Clarisse was happy to trail behind Silena and Piper for the rest of the night, tuning out their conversations about the new couple. She finds it’s easy to ignore Silena and Piper most of the time. If she can force her mind to shut down, to disociate from the beautiful princess in front of her, it’s easier to do her job.

Tonight, it was harder. Princess Silena is dressed in another gorgeous gown, and this time it’s not from Pylos. The gowns in Pylos, Clarisse has noticed, are more modest and simple. Probably because their queen is more obsessed with knowledge and power than beauty. But tonight, Silena decided to wear a dress from home.

It’s low-cut, with a plunging neckline and low back. Clarisse can see Silena’s back, her shoulder blades, her clavicle. Her chest. Silena doesn’t seem bothered by the gaping men and women she passes. She just continues to smile and drink, as if this is all perfectly normal. As if being the most beautiful person in the room — in any room — isn’t a big deal.

Clarisse follows behind her, forcing herself not to look at Silena’s back.

“Clarisse, do you think—” 

Silena turns, a smile on her lips. Clarisse is so stunned by that smile, that slight crease in her eyebrows, that she doesn’t even notice the masked assassin leaping out of the shadows. 

An arrow slams into her shoulder, knocking her back. Someone screams. The wedding guests start running, screaming. The palace guards unsheathe their swords, because oh gods — there are dozens of them. All around the garden, masked men dressed in black clothes step out of the shadows. Some are wielding swords, some scythes, others bows and arrows.

Silena is kneeling next to Clarisse, her hands fumbling around the wooden arrow currently embedded in Clarisse’s right shoulder.

The pain is white-hot and blinding, but just for a moment. Clarisse has known worse. She’s suffered worse than a single arrow. Clarisse wraps her hands around the wooden shaft and snaps it, which makes Silena cry out.

“Help me up,” Clarisse says. Silena obeys immediately, dragging her to her feet. “Get behind me.”

“But you’re—”

Clarisse turns on her, voice low and dangerous. “Stay behind me, Silena. This is what I’m here for.”

Clarisse draws her sword with her left hand, though it’s not her good arm. Her right arm dangles helplessly at her side, blood spilling down her shoulder and dripping off her fingers. Clarisse is good with her left arm; she’s got this.

I’ve got this, Clarisse tells herself.

The masked assassins are seemingly attacking at random. Some are tangled in fights with palace guards, while others are fighting with guests themselves. Already, half a dozen bodies litter the ground.

Percy is battling two assassins at once, his bronze sword whipping through the evening air with ease. Princess Annabeth, to Clarisse’s surprise, is armed with a knife and standing at his back. Queen Athena is already being ushered to safety, a squadron of eight guards surrounding her.

How could this happen? How could this many assassins get into the palace, on a night as high-security as this?

Clarisse shakes her head to clear it, because one of the fuckers is running at her, now. She can’t tell if it’s a man or woman, because their face is covered and they’re all dressed the same. It doesn't matter; Clarisse has killed plenty of men and women.

She crouches and readies her sword, taking a deep breath. Then she launches herself at the assassin, swinging her sword in a magnificent arc. The assassin catches the blade in a block, but doesn’t see Clarisse’s bloody, useless arm coming at them in a punch. Clarisse curses, the pain of the blow blinding. The assassin stumbles back, Clarisse’s own blood on their face.

The assassin swings their sword, but Clarisse intercepts it. She slams her elbow into their face, spins in a circle, and then beheads the assassin. The head rolls, then stops at Silena’s feet. The princess looks a little green, but she’s not screaming hysterically, so that’s something.

Clarisse grabs her and pulls her toward the garden’s exit, intending to get her away from the fighting. Silena rips free of her grip, though, and says, “Where’s my sister? Where’s Piper?”

“Come on , Silena,” Clarisse growls, attempting to drag the princess away again.

But Silena remains rooted to the spot, her eyes wide and frantic. Fine, then. Clarisse scans the clearing, looking for the younger princess. It seems Percy has easily defeated his two assassins, and is now racing to help other members of his court. Princess Annabeth is kneeling by the bloody form of a woman. Oh, fuck. 

“Piper!”

Silena bolts into the fray, Clarisse hot on her heels. Clarisse curses with every step, the arrowhead digging further and further into her flesh. Piper is on the ground with a bloody nose, but other than that, she seems to be okay. Her head is resting in Annabeth’s lap. Silena drops to her knees next to the other royals, helping staunch the flow of blood.

Clarisse blinks, her vision swimming, and notices three assassins advancing on the group of princesses. Percy and his friend, Luke Castellan, are currently back to back and fighting off their own problems. The other guards are either dead or otherwise engaged. 

"Oh, fuck me,” Clarisse grumbles. But she takes up a defensive stance in front of the three princesses and draws her weapons. With a spear in one hand and a sword in the other, she takes a deep breath.

One of the assassins lunges, a scythe in hand. Clarisse bats the weapon aside with her spear then slams her sword into the assassin’s chest. They crumple to the ground. The other two take their time, attacking together. Clarisse doesn’t give up an inch; she pushes them back, back, back, away from the princesses.

She shoves her wounded shoulder into one of their faces, breaking their nose. Before they can recover, her spear finds its home in their throat. The last one attempts to stab her in the side, but she blocks the attack with the butt of her spear. The assassin’s curved scythe catches Clarisse in the arm, though, slicing a gash from her elbow up to her bicep.

Clarisse roars in pain, a murderous rage settling on her shoulders. When she raises her sword, for a moment, she feels invincible. Untouchable. The assassin died too quickly, in her opinion.

When the last of her enemies falls, silence greets her ears. She stands there, arm hanging limply and uselessly, and scans the clearing. Percy is kneeling with the princesses, his hand on Annabeth’s back. Luke is close by. All of the other assassins are dead or fled. 

Clarisse allows her weapons to clatter to the ground. She stumbles forward a step, her gaze swimming. She blinks a few times, trying to regain her composure. She’s been through worse. She’s been through worse. This will not fell her.

When she bends down to retrieve her weapons, she nearly falls face-first to the ground. That would have been embarrassing, she thinks. She slumps to the ground, assured her princess is not in any danger at the moment. 

She rifles through her pockets until she finds a bit of gauze. She uses her teeth to rip through the fabric, which she uses to wrap up the gash on her arm. The arrowhead, unfortunately, is going to require hands more delicate than her own. 

Before Clarisse can get to her feet, though, she finds Princess Silena kneeling in front of her. When had she come over here? Everything is still a bit hazy.

“Are you alright?” Silena asks, trembling hands hovering over Clarisse’s shoulder wound.

“Going to need a healer, but I’m fine,” Clarisse manages, each word more of a grunt. “Piper?”

“Fine,” Silena responds, eyes never leaving Clarisse’s shoulder. “One of the assassins threw a knife at her. By some miracle, the handle hit her nose instead of the blade.”

Clarisse whistles. “That is… insane, to be honest.”

Silena smiles one of those rare, genuine smiles. The relief on her face is evident. Clarisse doesn’t want to know what the princess would do if her sister were truly harmed. Silena carefully helps Clarisse to her feet. She even offers for Clarisse to lean on her if needed.

“Nah, don’t want to get that pretty dress of yours all bloody,” Clarisse responds. Silena frowns down at her dress, which is smudged with dirt but shockingly clear of blood or grime. Clarisse can’t say the same for her own clothes.

When they rejoin the others, Annabeth looks at Clarisse with a cool, calculating gaze. Clarisse allows her. She stands before the foreign princess and allows the scrutiny, the judgment, the analyzing. Not so long ago, Clarisse dreamed of conquering this kingdom. She dreamed of killing this very princess, to bring glory and honor to her name. Tonight, she saved her enemy.

“Thank you,” Annabeth finally says. A splatter of blood now adorns her white wedding dress. “You protected me with your life when you did not have to. I am grateful.”

“I did it to protect Princess Silena,” Clarisse says, because it’s the truth. She amends, “And Princess Piper.” 

The corners of Annabeth’s mouth tug into a smile. “You may not be one for formality, but that’s alright with me. I value honesty. Thank you again, Clarisse La Rue.”

She turns away from them and rejoins her husband, who has blood all over his clothes. Luke stands close by, sword still drawn in case more assassins attack. 

Clarisse kicks one of the fallen assassins, turning them onto their back. She squats and removes the mask. The man’s face is pale and hollow. Sunken cheekbones. Paper-thin skin. Clarisse doesn’t recognize him, though she wasn’t expecting to. 

“Who are they?” Silena asks.

“I don’t know,” Annabeth responds sourly. “They’re… not from Cyprus, are they?” 

Silena straightens, pulling her shoulders back. Clarisse rises, standing behind her protectively. Her hand travels down to the hilt of her sword. Luke follows the movement of her hand, a smirk coming to his lips. 

“No, they’re not,” Silena says, her voice edged with anger. “Are they from Pylos?”

“I don’t care for weddings, it’s true, but not even I would ruin my own,” Annabeth snorts.

That makes Silena’s shoulders slump. “I’m sorry, princess, I didn’t mean to offend.” 

“And you didn’t,” Annabeth says politely. Her eyes dart from Silena’s face to Piper’s, then to Clarisse’s. The meaning is clear. No other words will be said here, not in front of outsiders.

What Silena doesn’t know is that Clarisse eavesdropped on the entire traitorous conversation last night. She knows Silena has allied with Princess Annabeth. She knows Silena plans to overthrow her own mother. What she can’t figure out, though, is how . Until Clarisse can discover more about the plot, she’s decided to keep it to herself. She will only turn Silena in when she knows everything. Until then, she will play the part of the dutiful knight.

+++++

They leave early the next morning, eager to get back home. Queen Athena thanks Clarisse for her bravery, which only makes her more irritable. She bows before the queen wordlessly. 

Silena and Piper climb into their carriage, bags lining their eyes. Word of the attack will spread, of course. Athena will likely pin it on Aphrodite; Aphrodite is likely to do the same. The understanding of the precarious situation is visible in Silena’s eyes as she climbs into the carriage. She grips her sister's hand tightly. 

Before the door closes, Clarisse pops her head into the carriage. Silena eyes her carefully. 

“We’re going to stay off the main roads on the way home,” Clarisse tells them. “It will take longer, but it’s safer.”

“Do you think there’s still a threat of assassins attacking us?” Silena asks, eyes wide.

“We don’t know who they were after, or where they came from,” Clarisse says sternly. “Queen Athena could have sent them. Until we figure it out, we stick to the backroads.”

“It couldn’t have been Athena,” Silena says, her lip trembling. “There are peace negotiations. It was her daughter’s wedding. It wasn’t her.”

“Queen Athena is famous for her wit, strategy, and battle prowess,” Clarisse snaps. “It’s possible she sent them to disrupt her daughter’s wedding to clear herself of suspicion. She’s no fool, Silena.” 

Clarisse says the last part perhaps a little too harshly. Piper’s eyes widen, clearly taken aback by the informality. At the moment, Clarisse doesn’t care. She’s been traipsing all over the country after these girls, and Silena seems only to want to put herself in danger. It’s outrageous. 

Silena narrows her eyes on Clarisse’s face, a spark of doubt waiting in those pretty eyes. She says nothing else, though, and sits back in her seat. 

“When we return to Cyprus, I would like to stop in the market before returning to the castle,” Silena says, her tone suddenly formal and bored. 

“Fine.” 

Clarisse slams the door to the carriage, her irritation getting the better of her. She’s going to regret her informality later, she’s sure. Whenever Silena decides to mention it to the queen, Clarisse will be punished. She’ll be whipped, or stoned, as punishment. Queen Aphrodite doesn’t take kindly to disrespect in her own house.

Clarisse groans and pulls herself up into the saddle of her horse, Nisos. The horse is massive, strong, and steady underneath her. He was a gift from Ares, her father. Clarisse settles into the saddle, readjusting her weapons belt in the saddle. Her shoulder is still in a lot of pain, but thanks to a healer in the palace, the wound has been sewn up quite nicely. 

They start down the road at a brisk pace. Captain Rhao — the ugly old bastard — begrudgingly obeyed Clarisse’s request that the caravan not travel on the main roads. He made a few snarky comments about her, but ultimately, he obeyed. It’s more than she could hope for from the bitch. 

Nisos shakes his head, his black mane flopping back and forth, so Clarisse pats his neck. This horse has carried her through many battles, now. He stormed beaches with her, trampled armies underfoot, and survived with her. She’s not really the sentimental type, but… she loves this horse. He is, perhaps, her oldest friend. Her only friend. She would die before letting anyone else ride this horse. 

Captain Rhao ends up riding alongside her, his brown mare more skittish than her own horse. It brings a proud smirk to her face. 

“What you did back in Athens,” Rhao says, voice unnervingly kind. “It was brave. Honorable. Our queen will want to reward you for it.” 

“I don’t care what the queen wants,” Clarisse snaps. “My job is to protect the princess. I did it. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Rhao tosses his head back and laughs. It’s a strange laugh, more like the noise choking, mewling cats make than a joyful sound. Clarisse glowers at him. 

“I see, now, why your father pulled so many strings to get you a position in the castle,” Rhao muses. “You’re just as angry and stupid as he is.”

Clarisse has long, long heard stories of her father’s anger. As if she needs the stories to understand him. He raised her. She grew up in his shadow; in his horrible, violent shadow. He was never gentle, nor kind, though he did have his moments of domesticity. When she was very young, he’d take her to the stables on their land. They’d ride together for hours, laughing and racing. 

The older she got, though, the more scared she became. Ares’ anger is like a lightning strike. It is quick to arrive, awe-inspiring to witness, and terrible to withstand. She would know. 

Clarisse has often understood that Ares’ rage stems from his grief. Ares never took a wife. He bedded plenty of women, of course, and when they had babies, he claimed them as his own. He’s had plenty of children; all of them followed him into war. None of them survived it — none except Clarisse. 

She doesn’t even know if she’s met all of her half-siblings. They come and go. She’s gone to war alongside plenty of them. She’s watched many of them die in a bloody rage. She knows it is her fate, too. She is the daughter of General Ares; she was not meant for good things. 

“I’d be careful if I were you, Captain Rhao,” Clarisse murmurs, her eyes on the road ahead. “I am like my father. And we both know I’m more important to Cyprus than you are. Don’t say something you’ll regret.” 

Rhao swallows, his throat bobbing dramatically. But he doesn’t back down. “Does Ares think he stands a chance at advancing in rank if you’re the princess’ guard dog?” 

“General Ares does not need nor want to advance in rank. He is content where he is.” 

Rhao scoffs, “There is not a man alive who does not want more. ” 

Clarisse opens her mouth to retort, but then cuts herself off. In one of her last conversations with Ares, he said something similar. He said… 

“Aphrodite will finally see our use with you in the castle,” Ares said. 

“She already knows our use, father,” Clarisse replied. “Against you and I, the Pylos army will never win.” 

Ares’ backhand slap was so forceful and so unexpected that Clarisse didn’t have time to dodge it. She stumbles back, raising her hand to touch the mark on her face. She doesn’t wince; she won’t show pain or fear in front of her father. 

“She thinks she can leave me here, on the battlefield, instead of honoring me with a place in her court,” Ares growls, glaring at his last remaining child. “I can share her bed, but not her throne. Bah! We will have more than this, Clarisse.”   

More. Ares said he wanted more, just as Captain Rhao said. Maybe the old idiot is right; maybe men never are satisfied with what they’ve been given in life. 

Clarisse doesn’t answer him. Eventually, Rhao leaves her alone and urges his horse into a faster gait so that he may lead the caravan. Clarisse stays beside the carriage, always an arms-reach away from Princess Silena. 

+++++

Due to their delayed route, it takes an entire three days to reach the capital of Cyprus. When they finally ride into the city, down the familiar streets, Clarisse exhales. She hasn’t been able to sleep in days. Every night she lay awake, feet away from Silena, and thought only of masked assassins and curved blades. 

As they pass through the market square, flowers hung from the banisters and rafters and clothing lines in preparation for Piper’s upcoming birthday, Clarisse hears a faint tapping. When she glances at the carriage, she sees Silena rapping her knuckles on the glass. 

Ah, yes, she’d nearly forgotten about Silena’s strange request. 

“Oi!” Clarisse calls to the carriage driver. “Stop here!” 

The carriage and surrounding guards all come to a halt in the middle of the busy street. Silena, very unceremoniously, climbs out of the carriage with a huff of annoyance and a few mumbled swears. She glances up at Clarisse, who is still mounted, and says, “The rest can continue to the castle. I won’t be long.” 

“We,” Clarisse corrects her. “We won’t be long.” 

Silena glares as Clarisse offers her hand. The leather gloves have made her hot and sweaty, but she doesn’t dare take them off. Silena slides her slender hand into Clarisse’s, allowing herself to be hauled up and onto Clarisse’s horse. 

“Go on,” Clarisse calls to Rhao. “We’ll join you shortly.” 

Rhao does not look pleased, but he spurs the caravan back into action. Piper waves dejectedly from the carriage, clearly not happy to be left behind. Silena wraps her pale arms around Clarisse’s torso, and grumbles, “We’re going to the fishing district.” 

Clarisse ignores the closeness. She ignores the princess’ perfume — which smells of citrus. She ignores the feeling of Silena’s breath on the back of her neck. The softness of her hands, which are grasping at Clarisse's abdomen in order to stay atop the horse. 

She ignores all of that and spurs her horse into a trot. Nisos doesn’t even seem to mind the extra weight on his back. He shakes his head happily and carries them down the cobblestone streets, toward the fishing district. 

Silena directs her to the edge of the district, where the poorest of the townspeople live. The homes here are made entirely of mud, straw, and scrap metal. It reminds Clarisse of home — not her family's estate in the countryside, but of war tents. Mud, blood, grime, shit — she grew up in it. Silena doesn’t seem to mind the sights and smells. She slides off of Nisos, landing on the ground with a huff. 

“I don’t suppose you’re going to stay here?” she grumbles. 

“No,” Clarisse answers. 

“Thought not.” 

“You’re learning,” Clarisse replies with a smug smirk. Silena raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on the sarcasm. 

Clarisse hitches her horse to a post, then follows Silena down an alley. The princess doesn’t look lost or confused. She navigates the turns and alleys with mastery; she’s been here before. After a few minutes, they end up standing outside a shack. It smells strongly of fish, here, but so did Clarisse’s home. She doesn’t mind it. 

Silena knocks on the door. 

When it opens, Clarisse does her best not to react. The woman holding open the door is… well, something. She must have been beautiful, once. She can’t be much older than thirty, and she’s well-tanned from the sun. She’s soft and curvy, with lovely red hair. It hangs in loose curls around her face. She smiles kindly at Silena, beckoning them inside. 

Clarisse has to duck to fit through the door. The inside of the home is modest, but it’s nice. Cozy. Blankets and furs line the room, and a fireplace in the corner offers a nice, steady warmth. 

“How are you, Psyche?” Silena asks, pulling the woman into a brief hug. 

“Shocked to see you, my lady,” the woman, Psyche, responds. “You should not be here.” 

On that, Clarisse agrees. The beautiful redhead turns her gaze to Clarisse, as if sensing her agreement. Clarisse almost winces. Almost. Because across Psyche’s face is the most horrendous scarring Clarisse has ever seen — and she’s seen some shit. The scars rake across her face, zig-zagging over her eyes, nose, and mouth in horrific lines. 

“It’s alright, you can ask,” Psyche says, lips turning up into a smile. She has sapphire blue eyes, Clarisse notices. Rosy cheeks, full red lips, and beneath those scars, a very angelic face.

“What are we doing here, princess?” Clarisse asks instead, keeping her voice low. 

Silena glares at her and doesn’t answer. She digs around in her pockets for a moment, then withdraws a bag from her coat. When Silena hands the bag to Psyche, Clarisse hears the unmistakable sound of clinking coins. 

“The princess brings me gold every month, even though I ask her not to,” Psyche says, with a very pointed frown in Silena’s direction. “She is too good to us.” 

“I am not,” Silena replies. “It’s only fair, after… after what my mother did to you.” 

Clarisse eyes the two women, incredibly lost and confused. She just raises her eyebrows at Silena. 

“I was once a great beauty,” Psyche explains, sounding sad. “But I was arrogant. I once claimed to be more beautiful than our queen, Aphrodite. She… didn’t take it well. She sent her favorite knight, Eros, to my house to kill me. He was like a son to her, you know. Highly favored in court. Certainly destined for a life of wealth and honor. But when he got here, he…” 

A man appears from the hallway behind her. He’s broad and muscular, with dark short-cropped hair. He smiles gently at Psyche, and says, “I fell in love with her. I mean look at her, how could I not?” 

Psyche smiles up at him, and it’s so… intimate. Vulnerable. It takes everything inside of Clarisse not to scoff or roll her eyes. 

“Mom wasn’t happy about that, either,” Silena mutters. “I was only ten when it happened, but I heard her. She sent another group of soldiers here. And they… well, they…” 

“They did this to me,” Psyche finishes. 

“Those scars…” Clarisse murmurs. “They did that to you?” 

Psyche smiles, showing off her brilliantly white teeth. “I am no longer more beautiful than Aphrodite.” 

Clarisse swallows heavily, understanding. She locks eyes with Silena, who looks sad and… guilty. “That’s why you come here?” Clarisse asks. 

“I’ve asked her not to,” Psyche says again, frowning at Silena. “But with my face, it’s hard to keep a job. And Eros… well, he’s a disgraced soldier. No one will hire him for work, either.” 

Silena looks at Clarisse and determination lines her face. Rebellion. Anger. Clarisse slowly starts to understand more about her princess, then. Clarisse has spent the better part of two weeks living in this woman’s shadow. She’s seen her flirt, laugh, talk, and gossip with members of the court. She’s seen the princess angry, sure. She’s seen her terrified. But Clarisse never particularly thought of her princess as compassionate. 

Perhaps Clarisse is not as observative as she thought. 

Silena and Psyche exchange a few more words, leaving Clarisse and Eros to look at each other awkwardly. Clarisse has heard tales of Eros, of course. He was a favorite of Aphrodite, once upon a time. She treated him like a son. With her affairs and lovers, perhaps he is her son; he’s certainly pretty enough. The world may never know. 

Thankfully, Silena finishes up and promises to return to Psyche next month. Clarisse bows her head respectfully, then follows her princess out of the home. Silena says nothing as she travels back through the narrow streets and alleys back to Clarisse’s horse. 

Clarisse climbs on first, then pulls Silena up. The princess again wraps her slender arms around Clarisse’s midsection and presses her forehead to Clarisse’s shoulder. 

“Thank you,” Silena says. 

Clarisse swallows heavily and urges her horse into a trot, aiming for the castle on the hill. 

“Does anyone else know you come here?” Clarisse asks. 

“No.” 

“Why do you do it? If Psyche so easily angered your mother once, surely the queen would be furious if she knew you were helping her.” 

Silena doesn’t answer for a moment. Then, “I love my mother. But she’s not always right.” 

“I’m starting to think you enjoy danger,” Clarisse mutters. Silena pinches her arm, but somehow, Clarisse knows the princess is smiling. 

“I’m starting to think you just like to stand in dark corners and look scary all the time,” Silena responds. 

“I do, actually,” Clarisse says. When Silena laughs, it’s like sunshine. It’s like the birdsong after a storm. It’s warm, sweet, and addicting. 

“Thank you for taking me,” Silena says again. “And… I trust you’re aware this needs to stay quiet. I don’t know who you report to, but I will ruin you if you so much as breathe a word of this.” 

Clarisse smirks. “Don’t worry, princess. Your secrets are safe with me.” 

For now.

Chapter 5: chapter five

Rulers make bad lovers
You better put your kingdom up for sale

"Gold Dust Woman" by Fleetwood Mac

+++++

One of the more enjoyable parts of Clarisse’s job is her new living situation. She doesn’t love the fact that she has to room with a princess, of course, but her quarters are certainly better than the soldiers’ barracks Clarisse is used to.

Clarisse has spent most of her life on the floor of the barracks. As a child, she thought it was fun. She got to grow up around big, strong warriors. She got to polish and clean the coolest weapons. And then she became a soldier herself, and she realized life was not so glamorous. She had no privacy, no home, and no friends.

Being Ares’ daughter did get her some respect amongst the newer recruits. It also got her a lot of attention from the older, veteran warriors. She slept with a knife in her hand most nights, just in case one of those pricks decided to get handsy her. A few of them lost fingers.

Now, she wakes up every morning to silence. To warmth. To servants already preparing breakfast. Sure, it’s not for Clarisse, per se, but the princess has never forbidden Clarisse from enjoying the luxury of royalty. Clarisse dines on a lavish breakfast each morning, then slips away for a few hours to train while Silena prepares for the day.

The training facilities in the castle are… not great. It’s just an empty, circular room on the lowest level of the castle. There are a few weapons racks, a training mat, and a few dummies. Though Clarisse has certainly seen better, this will do.

She takes her time stretching. She rubs out the soreness in her legs and arms, wishing she could do something about the permanent pain in her shoulder. Though the arrow wound is almost entirely healed, now, it still hurts like a motherfucker. She hopes it won’t always hurt.

Clarisse tugs off her shirt and hangs it on the weapons rack. She’s usually a dirty, sweating mess by the end of her training sessions — she’d prefer to preserve her shirt if she can.

She starts with a few rounds of sword maneuvers. She twists the blade through the air, practicing both offensive and defensive positions. When she switches to practicing with her spear, she kicks it up a notch. She launches herself into a forward roll, and when she lands in a kneeling position, shoves her spear up into the air — envisioning a neck.

Clarisse craves the simplicity of violence; the thrill of weaponry. She was born with war in her veins. Her father has known nothing else; he has no other skills. He had nothing to pass down to Clarisse other than his anger, his violence, and his sense of duty. She did not grow up in a house full of laughter or joy; she grew up learning the basics of war. She could recite excerpts from battle strategies before she could spell her name. 

“Again!” 

Clarisse coughed, blood splattering onto the cobblestone beneath her. She pushed herself to her feet, scrambling for a weapon. He’d knocked her down and disarmed her. Where had her sword gone? 

“Get up, girl!” 

Clarisse jumped to her feet, sword in hand, just in time to block an attack from Deimos. He was so much older than her and twice as large. He’s Ares’ favorite child. Deimos was as violent and mean as Ares, and unfortunately, he was the one in charge of training Clarisse. 

Ares watched on from the side of the ring, eyes full of malicious glee. Deimos is savage, and he doesn’t wait to see if Clarisse is ready before battering her with attacks. He’d already broken her nose this morning, but had not allowed that to pause their training. 

“Again!” Ares shouted. “Clarisse, I will get in there and beat you myself if you don’t start using your damn brain!” 

Clarisse swallowed her sob, her fear, her anger, and lifted her sword. This time, she doesn’t wait for Deimos to attack. 

Clarisse slams her spear through the stomach of a dummy, breathing heavily. Sweat drips into her eyes and her hair sticks to her neck. She doesn’t wipe it away. She just removes the spear from the dummy, angrily slamming the shaft into the dummy’s armored head. The helmet flies off and clatters to the ground, yards away.

The rage has built up in her without her knowing. When she thinks of her older brother, Deimos, she sees red. He was everything she wanted to be; everything Ares wanted her to be. He was brave, strong, skilled. A leader. But he was stupid, too. He was proud and arrogant, and it got him killed. When Deimos died in battle, Clarisse was only fifteen. 

Ares didn’t care how young she was; he brought her to war the very next week. She became her father’s second. She became his replacement for Deimos. 

“Are you quite finished destroying the training room?” 

Clarisse jumps and spins around, spear raised. She’d gotten so lost in her memories, in her anger, she hadn’t even heard someone approach. Through the sweat in her eyes and the hair in her face, Clarisse makes out the shape of Silena. The princess is leaning up against the stone walls of the room, arms crossed, watching her. 

“How long have you been here?” Clarisse snaps. She crosses the room quickly, tugging her shirt back on over her torso. Clarisse doesn’t care much for modesty; there is no privacy in war. But something about Silena’s bright eyes and sensual lips makes her feel nervous. 

Silena smirks, “Long enough.”

Clarisse glares at her, but says nothing. She runs a hand through her hair, trying to get the loose curls out of her face. Then she buckles on her belt, tugs on her jacket, and faces her princess. 

“I apologize, princess. I lost track of time.” 

“I can see that,” Silena says with a tilt of her head. “I was tempted to go about my day without you, you know. It would be so nice not to have an angry shadow following me around all day.” 

Against her will, Clarisse smiles. “So why have you come to fetch me, then?” 

Silena sighs dramatically, “I suppose I’ve grown somewhat used to your presence. I haven’t the faintest idea why, but it’s actually quite nice to have you around.”

Clarisse grins at that; a faint flush breaks out across Silena’s cheeks. She’s dressed in simple clothes today, though Clarisse knows that won’t last long. Tonight, the queen is throwing a massive party to celebrate the beginning of Piper’s birthday week. 

As it stands, Clarisse thinks Silena looks quite beautiful in trousers and a corsetted blouse. Clarisse follows Silena out of the training room, always careful to stay a few steps behind her. Most royals don’t allow their servants or knights to walk alongside them. Silena has never reprimanded her, but Clarisse isn’t eager to find out what would happen. 

Silena walks to the library, first, and returns a leather-bound book to its home on a dusty shelf. Then she steals a few more from a different shelf, tucking them under her arm. After that, they walk through the gardens. Silena takes her time strolling through the jungle of flowers and vines. She picks a few wildflowers, which she also tucks under her arm. 

“Allow me,” Clarisse says, stepping forward, hands outreached. For a moment, Silena doesn’t say anything. Then she nods her head and allows Clarisse to hold the books and flowers for her. 

This isn’t part of Clarisse’s job. She knows that. Her job is to stand there and protect the princess. Maidservants are the ones who carry her things, dote on her, and talk to her. Clarisse isn’t supposed to do any of that, but... 

“What are the flowers for?” she asks, once Silena moves on from the flower beds to the pond. 

“My room,” Silena answers. “I like having fresh flowers in there. Brightens up the space, I think.” 

“What is your favorite flower?” Clarisse asks, studying the various types in the bouquet Silena had made for herself. She doesn’t know why she asked; she can’t tell the flowers apart. 

Silena pauses, pursing her lips in concentration. Then she says, “My mother is partial to red anemone, of course. That’s why they grow everywhere in the kingdom. I like dahlias, though.” 

Clarisse shrugs helplessly, unsure what either one of those flowers looks like. Clarisse never had the opportunity to learn such things as this. Silena doesn’t tease her, though. She moves closer to Clarisse and points at a red flower. 

“This is the poppy, my mother’s flower,” she explains. As she points it out, Clarisse recognizes it. As Silena said, it grows everywhere in this kingdom. Then Silena points to a different flower, one that’s a little bigger. It has light pink petals and a lighter center. It’s beautiful. “This is the dahlia, my personal favorite.” 

“It’s pretty,” Clarisse says, purposefully keeping her eyes on the flower. 

“What is your favorite?” Silena asks conversationally.

“I don’t know,” Clarisse answers. “Is there a flower that symbolizes war? That might do.” 

Silena grins slyly and taps a finger on her chin. “Hmm… perhaps a petunia, then. They symbolize feelings of deep resentment and anger. Or perhaps the red tulip. Tulips usually symbolize love, passion, and romance, but their negative meaning symbolizes aggression, anger, danger, and wrath.” 

“Yes, that sounds nice,” Clarisse agrees, allowing a grin to come to her face. Silena smacks her on the arm playfully, then continues walking. 

They continue on that way for hours. They make small talk, discussing things as unimportant as the weather and their favorite seasons. It passes the time, but that’s not why Clarisse keeps talking. She likes talking to Silena. The princess isn’t stuck up or cruel. She’s kind, funny, and engaging. 

When the sun finally peaks in the sky, Silena sighs heavily and puts her book down. They’ve been in the study for hours, now, just reading and talking. Clarisse looks up from her own book — a new one Silena is making her read. 

“Time to go?” Clarisse asks. 

“Afraid so,” Silena grumbles. “If I’m late for my fitting, Rachel will scour the castle and get us both into trouble.” 

Rachel Dare, the fiery redhead and lead maidservant, has been another blessing to Clarisse. She helped Clarisse learn the layout of the castle the very first night. She’s the one who makes sure Silena’s breakfast spread includes bacon, because she realized Clarisse enjoys it. Clarisse likes the girl. 

“Let’s go, then,” Clarisse says. 

Before they can even get off the sofa, a courier comes bolting into the study. The boy can’t be older than fifteen. He’s breathing heavily, his face flushed, but he dips into a low bow before Silena. 

Clarisse brushes her hand over her sword hilt, just in case. The boy rises from his bow and rifles through his messenger bag. He pulls out a plain envelope and hands it to her, saying, “I’m sorry this is so late, my lady. There was trouble on the road from Pylos.” 

And then he’s bowing again and darting out the door, just as quickly as he entered. 

Pylos. 

Silena glances at Clarisse nervously, then slips the envelope into her trouser pocket. She says nothing else before gathering her coat from the sofa and exiting the study. Clarisse follows wordlessly. 

Pylos. Clarisse had almost forgotten the conversation she overheard in Princess Annabeth’s castle. The treason and betrayal Clarisse had overheard. 

“What news have you from Pylos?” Clarisse asks casually. 

Silena glares over her shoulder. “Nothing important, I’m sure.” 

“Ah, I don’t think that’s the case,” Clarisse says. They begin to climb the spiral staircase that leads to Silena’s tower. “You and Princess Annabeth seem… close. ”  

Silena scoffs, “I’d argue my sister and Annabeth got along better than we did. I’m just doing my duty. Trying my best to secure the peace negotiations.” 

“The Pylos royals will be attending the events this week, yes?” 

Silena pauses her ascent and turns to look at Clarisse. Because she’s one step lower than the princess, she has to look up at Silena. She doesn’t like the change. 

“Why do you ask, Clarisse?” 

Silena’s tone is sharp and pointed. Clarisse knows she should be afraid; she should be scared for her life in this moment. But she can’t bring herself to be scared of Silena, for better or worse. She grins up at the princess. 

“No reason, my lady. I’m just eager for the day you two rule your lands.” 

Silena’s nostrils flare and her eyes widen, ever so slightly. The princess scans the staircase — which is empty. Clarisse would never dare be so bold and open if others were present. Silena returns her gaze to Clarisse’s face, an unfamiliar fire in her eyes. 

“Do not speak of such things,” Silena snaps.

“That is your plan, is it not?” Clarisse whispers, leaning in. “To take the throne, as Annabeth plans to take hers?” 

Silena recoils as if slapped. This time, the princess can’t disguise her shock and panic. Her eyes widen, and that lovely face of hers pales. “How do you—” 

“You left me outside the door,” Clarisse snaps. “Did you expect me not to stay? Not to guard you?” 

“Those doors aren’t as thick as I thought,” Silena says, her throat bobbing. “Fuck. Okay, Clarisse, you must have misheard us that night. We weren’t—”

“Plotting to overthrow your mothers and take their thrones? That’s certainly what it sounded like.” 

“Clarisse, ” Silena whispers, eyes darting around the empty tower. “Please, don’t say such things. I would never. I love my mother, Queen Aphrodite. She’s a good and just ruler. I would never dare do what you speak of. You misunderstood us. We were drunk, and what we said means nothing, now.” 

Clarisse raises an eyebrow cheekily. “Don’t fuck with me, Silena. I’m not stupid.” 

Silena nods once, twice, as if considering her options. Clarisse doesn’t miss the way Silena eyes her sword. “Thinking of killing me, are you?” Clarisse whispers. “You could try, but you would not succeed.” 

“You’re such an ass,” Silena mutters. She runs a hand through her hair. “Alright, fine. What do you want? What will it take to keep you quiet? If you want gold, it’s done. Name your price. If you want an estate in the kingdom, it’s done. Name your price, Clarisse.” 

Silena’s sudden switch from terror to command isn’t even alarming. It’s almost… alluring. Endearing. Clarisse is reminded, in that very moment, that Princess Silena is not some simpering child of the court. She is the heir to the throne; she was raised in court. She knows how to trick people, how to seduce them, how to win them over. It shouldn’t be as impressive as Clarisse thinks it is. 

“I want nothing from you,” Clarisse answers honestly. “But I need the full truth from you, Silena. My job is to guard you, which means I need to know when you’re involved in anything… less than legal.” 

“You expect me to believe that?” Silena snaps. “You just found out I’m a traitor to the kingdom, and you expect me to believe you want nothing more than to protect me?” 

Fair enough. Clarisse grits her teeth and leans closer to Silena, their faces only inches apart. “If you die, I die. Get the picture? Knighthood isn’t a glamorous life, princess. If I fail in this job, if you’re so much as injured, the queen can have me hung. That’s what those vows really mean. So I don’t care what you’re involved in, as long as I know enough to keep you safe. Deal?” 

“Fine,” Silena spits the word out, surprising them both. “Fine.” 

Clarisse blinks. Silena’s face is so close to hers. She’d never noticed the princess has blue eyes. They’re stunning, especially this close. 

Silena straightens, pulling her face away from Clarisse’s. “We’ll talk more about this later. For now, all you need to know is I am good friends with Princess Annabeth, Perseus, and Luke. Together, we are working toward a better world for both our kingdoms.” 

“Such lofty dreams,” Clarisse mutters. 

Silena’s gaze hardens. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” The princess turns and resumes her ascent to the tower. Clarisse follows. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Clarisse snaps. “I understand war better than anyone. Better than you. ” 

“Maybe,” Silena says, not looking at her. “But I know politics. I know economics. I am burdened with the weight and grief of my people. I don’t care what you think of me, Clarisse. If you think this is a dumb idea, or if you think I’m simply doing it for power, that’s fine with me. But you should know all of that is a lie. I do this because it is what’s best for them. My people."

+++++

Clarisse polishes her armor while the maids get Silena ready for dinner. She scrubs the dirt from the scratches in the metal. She buffs the particularly dirty areas. This was her first set of armor, a gift from her father, and it’s her favorite. It’s a light set, not the complete full-body armor most of the palace guards wear. That stuff just slows her down and wears her out. 

Her armor is mostly made from leather hide. It’s studded with iron, and her breastplate is made entirely of thick iron. It’s light and easy to move in but still provides her with basic protection. She sticks her finger through the hole the arrow made. Unfortunately, it’s not thick enough to keep weapons from hitting her. 

In the other room, she can hear Rachel and Silena talking in low voices. The redhead says something, and Silena laughs loudly. Clarisse smiles to herself; will there come a day when that laughter does not make her smile?

As she dresses in her armor, Clarisse allows herself to think of a world where Silena rules rather than Aphrodite. It’s no secret that the current queen is a lousy one. She spends the people’s taxes on parties, jewels, and beautification. She cares only for pleasure and love. She’s greedy, jealous, and arrogant. This war with Pylos has lasted for decades simply because the two rulers, Athena and Aphrodite, don’t like each other. 

With someone like Silena ruling, perhaps Cyprus would flourish. Silena would make a good queen. She cares about her people, as seen by her care for Psyche and Eros. She’s never been cruel to Clarisse, though she certainly could have been. Clarisse is far too outspoken for her station; all it would take is one word from the princess, and Clarisse would be dead. 

Maybe Clarisse shouldn’t tell her father about the traitorous plan. Maybe she should allow Silena to give it a real try. Clarisse wants… 

It doesn’t matter what she wants. It only matters what Ares wants, and that has always been clear to Clarisse. If Ares goes before Aphrodite with knowledge and details of this plan, the queen will reward him. He’ll get anything and everything he could ever want, thanks to Clarisse. 

She knows she should inform him of the plot to overthrow the queen. It would mean Silena’s imprisonment or death, but it would also mean Clarisse could finally be done with her father. He’d get everything he ever wanted, and Clarisse could leave. She could travel. She could escape his wrath forever. 

Silena appears in the doorway, a frown on her lovely face. 

Clarisse inhales sharply. Silena is dressed in a dark red gown, again with a plunging neckline and low back. Her arms are adorned in golden bangles and jewels. Her hands are covered in rings, her wrists in bracelets, and her neck in necklaces. Half a dozen earrings hang from her ears. Her face is smudged with kohl liner, and her lips are a dark red color. Her hair is down, to Clarisse’s delight. It hangs in loose waves around her face.

“My lady,” Clarisse says, dipping into a bow. “You look…”

She can’t seem to think of any words good enough. Pretty doesn’t do her justice. Not even beautiful covers it. Clarisse flounders for words, but Silena just waves her hand through the air dismissively. 

“You look nice too,” she says, eyes twinkling. 

Rachel appears next to Silena, placing one last pin in the princess’ hair. The redhead glances at Clarisse, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Off you go, then,” Rachel says, giving Silena a little nudge toward the door. “Have a glass of wine for me, will you? Or two. Maybe even three.”

Silena snorts but promises to sample the best wines in honor of her friend. Clarisse says nothing before following Silena out of the room, her gloved hand on the hilt of her sword. She’s going to have to stay close to Silena this evening. There’s no chance she’s letting the princess out of her sight. With Silena looking this good, Clarisse needs to be there in case any man dares get too handsy with her.

There’s certainly no other reason Clarisse wants to be by her side all night. None at all.

Chapter 6: chapter six

Feel your anger boil under my skin
When I fight you losing is to win
All your lies and all your half told truths
Yeah, I love you baby, what's the use?

"Glass Jaw" by chokecherry

+++++

Silena dances and drinks and flirts like her life depends on it.

Since most of the royals from Pylos won’t arrive until tomorrow night, Silena makes herself the most interesting thing in the room. She flits across the dancefloor with noble after noble until she can’t even remember who she’s danced with and who she hasn’t.

She flirts with the other children of the court; with Charles Beckendorf, the son of the royal blacksmith; with Lee Fletcher, an honored archer in Aphrodite’s armies; with Katie Gardner, daughter of Demeter, one of Aphrodite’s advisors.

She grew up with these people, and if she’s going to one day soon steal the throne from her mother, she needs allies within her court. She wants these people to love her. To trust her. To want her to rule.

Throughout the whole night, she’s aware of eyes on her. Rachel’s choice of dress is certainly doing its job. When Silena walks by, people look. It doesn’t matter if they’re young or old, single or married, man or woman; they look at her and want. None of it matters to Silena, though. As she bats her eyelashes at each person she sees, she finds she really only wants one person’s attention.

She scans the crowd, knowing the brute can’t be more than a yard away at any given time. Sure enough, Clarisse is towering behind her, glaring at someone across the room. Silena exhales slowly. When Clarisse had revealed she knew about Silena’s plans… gods, Silena was tempted to shove her down the stairs. Or slice her throat.

But beneath all the fear and desperation, Silena was secretly glad to have someone else know. She’s felt overwhelmingly alone these last few days since leaving Pylos. While she doesn’t know Annabeth that well, it's hard to see how well-supported the princess is. She has Perseus, Luke, and Reyna at her side. They all know of her plan. They’re helping her.

Silena is alone. She could tell Piper, of course. Her sister would support her no matter what. But sharing her plans with someone, anyone, puts them in danger. If Silena fails, she and all of her allies will be put to death. Silena can withstand that burden. She isn’t scared of dying. But she will not intentionally put her sister in harm’s way.

Clarisse turns her head, sensing Silena’s gaze. They stand there for a moment, in the middle of a crowded room, and Silena swears time stops. Have Clarisse’s eyes always been that lovely shade of brown? Like amber in the golden afternoon sun? The scar across her face is almost unnoticeable in this darkened room. Silena has the sudden urge to reach out and trace it across Clarisse’s face.

Instead, she clasps her hands in front of her and starts pushing through the crowds again. Piper is on the dance floor, now, a blond lord leading her in a waltz. He’s a young lord from the northern part of the kingdom. He just inherited his throne; ugh, what’s his name?

“Jason Grace,” Clarisse murmurs from behind her, eyeing the blond with curiosity. “I hear he’s an excellent fighter.”

Piper smiles happily, allowing the man to spin her. When the song comes to an end, Silena catches a glimpse of the man’s face. Young, handsome, kind. Perhaps he’d make a good suitor for Piper.

Silena doesn’t have time to ponder it, though, because a man appears before her. He’s about the same height as her, with long, dark hair. His face is youthful, though he must be somewhere around her mother’s age. He smiles kindly, though his lips are stained red from wine.

“May I have a dance, princess?” Lord Dionysus asks.

Silena accepts his hand, allowing him to lead her to the dance floor. The song begins, and Silena is grateful to hear an upbeat, jaunty tune. At least it isn’t a slow dance. They trot across the floor, whirling and twirling in sync with the other couples.

“I hear you have become friends with the young royals from Pylos,” Dionysus says. His voice is low and soft, like a musician’s. He’s one of Aphrodite’s favorite advisors in court; Silena has known him all her life. 

He’s a bit of a character. He is never seen without a wine glass in hand. Sometimes, during a particularly rowdy celebration, he seems to go a bit mad with pleasure and frenzy. No one knows how to party quite like him.

“Yes, my lord,” Silena answers carefully. “I sincerely hope to remain on good terms with them, so long as the peace treaties hold.”

“I do, too,” Dionysus says, in a rare show of honesty. At Silena’s likely very shocked face, Dionysus smiles. “Pylos makes great wine. I would love to stay at peace and further our trade with our neighbors.”

Leave it to Dionysus to narrow down the end of a decades-long war to wine. Nonetheless, Silena is grateful for his honesty.

“Then you and I shall have to remain good friends, Lord Dionysus,” Silena says quietly, allowing the lord to dip her. When she rights herself, she looks into his eyes, and says, “I plan on making sure this peace lasts.”

Dionysus quirks an eyebrow upward. “I see. I am glad, Princess Silena.”

When the song ends, Lord Dionysus wanders off to find another glass of wine. For a moment Silena is so bewildered, so shocked at her new ally, that she feels dizzy. She feels like she’s floating up, up and away from this room. Her breathing becomes a bit more frantic. She presses a hand to her chest, trying to slow her rapid breaths.

A gloved hand grazes her back. A warm body presses into her from behind. “Are you okay, princess?”

Clarisse’s voice. Silena focuses on that — on the low, hoarse voice of her knight — and finds her way back to earth. Her breathing levels out. Her heart is still racing, though she thinks that might be for a different reason.

She smiles over her shoulder at Clarisse, who is looking at her with concern. “Better now, thank you.”

+++++

When the royals from Pylos arrive the next day, Silena is shocked to see Annabeth, Perseus, Luke, and Reyna stepping out of the carriage. She thought only one or two of them would come. 

Queen Aphrodite stands next to her at the top of the steps and frowns ever so slightly when she sees the young royals. As the four of them climb the steps, Aphrodite mutters, “They’d look much nicer in our finery.”

Silena swallows down any defense of her new friends and forces a polite laugh. It’s true; the royals from Pylos are dressed in simple clothes. They look lovely, of course, seeing as they’re all remarkably attractive people. But the clothes are simple, thin, and more suitable for a library or stroll in the park than meeting a queen.

Even their queen, Athena, dresses simply. She's not here tonight — she must have stayed home to rule her kingdom, which is fair — but Silena noticed the woman's plain clothes and simple jewelry. Like she couldn’t be bothered with finery and jewels. Too busy thinking about philosophy or something stupid like that.

“Clothing isn’t as important to people from Pylos,” Silena reminds her mother, whose frown deepens. “They’re more inclined to study the arts, or philosophy, or the art of battle.”

“I’m aware, daughter,” Aphrodite snaps, eyes shining with malice. “You forget that Athena and I are old friends.”

Friends. Yeah, right.

Annabeth dips into a low curtsy, a smile on her lips. Percy, Luke, and Reyna all bow respectively. Aphrodite’s smile widens, that otherworldly beauty overtaking her face. She’s absolutely glowing when she welcomes them to Cyprus.

“We are honored you traveled so far to celebrate Piper’s birthday with us,” Aphrodite muses.

“It is an honor to visit your kingdom,” Annabeth says, her words careful. “I have longed to see Cyprus with my own eyes for years, now.”

“It is a beautiful country,” Aphrodite agrees. With that, she turns her back on the young royals and walks into the castle. Her guards follow her, leaving Silena and Piper alone with the royals from Pylos. Well, and Clarisse, who stands in the shadows of the courtyard with her arms crossed over her chest.

Piper, ignoring decorum and rules, launches herself at Annabeth. The two hug, laughing. Silena watches them amusedly. She certainly wasn’t sure if the friendship between the two princesses was going to last. She’s glad it did.

Reyna, one of Annabeth’s advisors, eyes Piper warily. But there’s something else in her eyes beyond unease… something like interest. Oh. 

Silena hides a smirk behind her hand, pretending to stifle a yawn. Leave it to her little sister to seduce half of a foreign kingdom’s court. Silena could learn a thing or two from her.

“It's good to see you again,” Luke says, placing a kiss on Silena’s hand.

Piper leads Annabeth into the castle, chattering on about Cyprus and the fun parts of it. Silena smiles at the remaining royals and says, “Come, let’s get you settled, shall we?”

+++++

That night, Aphrodite goes all out. The gardens, courtyards, and halls of the castle are decorated with live flowers, vines, and glowing mushrooms. Candles are lit and stacked all over the place, the wax melting and hardening beneath them. Curtains, drapes, and tapestries are brought out of storage to line the empty corridors.

Wine, mead, and food are served in every single corner of the castle. Aphrodite blesses the celebrations at the beginning, thanks the royals from Pylos for joining, then claps her hands twice. And just like that, the madness begins. 

Someone hands Silena a glass of wine. She drinks it. Music is playing somewhere in the background, and she sways to the beat. There are people everywhere; some are dancing, others laughing, and others eating and drinking. Some are indulging in pleasure, out in the open for anyone to see.

Silena has never really liked these kinds of parties. She wasn’t allowed to join until she turned eighteen a few years ago, thank the gods. Before then, she locked herself in her room and tried to ignore the sounds of revelry, pleasure, and drunkenness. 

Now, she averts her eyes when couples start kissing and touching each other. She wanders through the crowds, desperate to speak to a friend. She turns down a few offers to join in, uh, activities. She’s no prude, of course. Her mother is famous for love, pleasure, and beauty. 

Silena has certainly had her fair share of love and pleasure. She’s no prude. But tonight, she doesn’t feel like drunkenly kissing some lord or lady she won’t remember tomorrow morning. 

Silena finally finds Annabeth and Perseus in the gardens. Since it’s late autumn, the air is a bit chilly and there aren’t many people out here.

“Gods, there you are!” Silena says, a smile coming to her face. She’s had a few glasses of wine tonight, and she’s certainly starting to feel the effects.

Annabeth smiles, “Your mother certainly knows how to throw a party, doesn't she?”

Silena blushes, “Yes, my apologies for not properly warning you. I’m sure this is a bit… different than parties in Pylos.”

“Different is an understatement,” Percy laughs. “Just tonight I’ve had three men and four ladies ask me to join them. Who knew I was so desirable?”

Annabeth smacks him. Silena panics, briefly, when she thinks about how insane this must seem to outsiders. It still feels insane to her, sometimes, and she grew up here. But Annabeth and Percy smile at her, and there is no judgment in their gaze.

“How go your… ventures in Pylos?” Silena asks. Annabeth’s eyes narrow on something behind Silena. Ah, yes, Clarisse. “She knows. She’s trustworthy.” 

“You trusted our secrets with the Lady of Bloodshed?” Percy snaps, irritation flaring in his eyes. 

The Lady of Bloodshed. Silena turns to face Clarisse, who is staring at Percy, open-mouthed. Clarisse promptly clamps her mouth shut and looks at Silena.

“Is that a nickname?” Silena asks softly. “Lady of Bloodshed?”

Clarisse swallows and Silena follows the movement with her eyes. Then, Clarisse says, “Yes, princess. My father is the Lord of War. The God of the Battlefield. Master of Misery. He has many names. When I… when I joined him on the battlefield, I earned my own title.” 

“The Lady of Bloodshed,” Silena says again, just to test it out. Clarisse dips her head. Silena shrugs, and turns back to the royals, “Clarisse is my hand-selected protector and knight. She is sworn to the kingdom. She will not betray me.”

Percy’s lips curl into a sneer. “She already tried to kill me once.”

Clarisse snorts, and Silena silently pleads with her to shut the fuck up. She’s only going to make this worse. Clarisse isn’t good at letting things slide—

“Care for a rematch, prince?” Clarisse says. 

Annabeth grabs her husband’s arm, but he shakes her off and points a finger at Clarisse. “You killed dozens of my men. You’ll pay for that.” 

Silena steps in front of Clarisse, eyes narrowing on Percy. His sea-green eyes are wild. She looks at him and feels like she’s looking at the ocean. Not the beach, or a soft, breaking wave — no, he is the crashing, violent waves of the deep sea. He is the storm that breaks the ship.

“I apologize for her brazenness, Perseus,” Silena says, her words soft and soothing, just as her mother taught her. “But you have murdered our people, too. It is what happens in war. We must let it go if we are to move forward together.” 

“Fine,” Percy says, drawing away from her. “I apologize, Princess Silena, for my arrogance.” 

“It is forgiven,” Silena says immediately. She looks to Annabeth, but the foreign princess is too busy studying her husband. “I will leave you, now. Enjoy the party. We can speak at length tomorrow, perhaps when the alcohol has left our systems.” 

“I look forward to it,” Annabeth says, sounding genuine. “Thank you.” 

+++++

Silena does not rejoin the party. She grabs a bottle of wine, two glasses, and marches toward her tower. She doesn’t have to look behind her to see if Clarisse follows; she can hear her footsteps, can hear the soft curses from the other woman’s mouth. 

Silena slams the door to her quarters open with so much force that a glass on the table falls and breaks. Rachel, who’d been dutifully cleaning the room, jumps. 

“You’re back early,” Rachel says once she recovers.

“Yes,” Silena agrees, barely concealing her emotions. “If you don’t mind, darling, can we have the room? You’re free for the evening. Go and enjoy the party, if you wish.”

Rachel eyes Silena, then the bottle of wine, then Clarisse. The redhead says nothing, but nods once and kisses Silena’s cheek. Then she’s out the door, closing it securely behind her. Silena silently slides into a chair at the table and kicks another out for Clarisse. The knight stands by the door, hand on her sword, looking… nervous. 

“Sit down, Clarisse.” 

Clarisse sits down at the table, her sword scabbard scraping across the floor as she does so. Silena pours two glasses of wine, filling them far more than is deemed polite. She slides a glass to Clarisse, who turns her nose up at it. 

“I shouldn’t drink on duty,” Clarisse says softly. 

“You have never once obeyed the rules,” Silena mutters. “Don’t start now. Drink.”

Clarisse frowns at her, but gingerly lifts the glass to her lips. Silena does the same, nearly draining the full cup. The sweet wine goes straight to her head, making her feel far warmer and bolder than before.

“You talk about wanting to protect me, in order to keep your own head attached to your body, but every time you’re around Perseus you act like a cornered dog,” Silena says. “I understand that the two of you fought on the battlefield. But that is over, Clarisse. If you lay one hand on him, Queen Athena and Aphrodite will have your head for it. It would be considered treason to harm him, a prince, while the peace negotiations are underway.” 

“And you hate treason, do you?” Clarisse says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh, not this again,” Silena hisses. “Why don’t you trust me? And don’t mention the treason again. I want to know why you deliberately anger Perseus, even though I have asked you not to.”

Clarisse bristles, “He’s an asshole. He’s killed dozens of my men out on those battlefields. He killed my brother a few years ago. I just… I hate him.” 

“And he hates you,” Silena says. “Because I’m sure you’ve harmed him, as well.” 

Clarisse purses her lips. “I might have taken out half of his squadron single-handedly.” 

“Right,” Silena says, sighing. “So can you let it go, now? Why don’t you want peace?” 

A muscle in her jaw flexes. Clarisse takes another long sip of wine before answering. “I am war, princess. I know nothing else.” 

“That’s not a good enough reason,” Silena growls. “I am offering you a chance to help me bring peace to two kingdoms that desperately need it. Yes, it’s treason. Yes, it’s suicide if I fail. Something tells me you don’t actually care about the treason or danger. So what is it? What is it you’re afraid of?” 

“Me, afraid?” Clarisse asks. She laughs loudly. When Silena doesn’t join in, Clarisse narrows her eyes and says, “I’m not afraid of anything, princess.”

“Liar.” 

Clarisse’s nostrils flare, and she pushes herself back from the table. She towers over Silena, a hand on either armrest, trapping Silena in her chair. Her face is only inches from Silena’s. 

Silena has wanted people before. That’s all very natural and understandable to her. She’s never been scared of her desires or her attractions. But right now, as that desire flares up inside of her, she feels her hands start to shake.. Ever since that first day Clarisse served as her knight, Silena knew she was attracted to her. She’s tall, hot, and jacked. Of course Silena was attracted to her. She’s not blind. 

But recently, Silena has started to think about it more. Clarisse takes up space in her mind, now, instead of just her room. When she’d seen Clarisse shirtless in the training room a few days ago, she’d barely been able to catch her breath. Even now, days later, the memory threatens to make her blush. 

Clarisse’s dark eyes are still locked on Silena’s. 

“I’m not scared of anything,” Clarisse repeats, her words barely a whisper. Silena can feel the other woman’s hot breath on her face. 

“Then why do you act like it?” 

Clarisse recoils, stepping back several feet. Silena immediately misses her closeness, but she doesn't let it show. She doesn’t let a single bit of that wanting show on her face. 

“You’re planning treason, and yet you dare question me?” Clarisse asks. “I could run and tell your mother right now, and I’d be rewarded with anything I ever dared dream of.”

“True,” Silena says. “So why haven’t you?”

Clarisse hesitates, her mouth open but unmoving. Silena gets the distinct feeling that this isn’t the first time Clarisse has asked herself the very same question. The Lady of Bloodshed slumps into her chair, reaching for the bottle of wine. She pours herself another glass, downs the entire thing, and levels her gaze on Silena.

“I don’t know,” Clarisse says, and Silena can hear the honesty in it. “My father would want me to. He’s… unhappy with his current position. He thinks I can elevate his status. He thinks I’ll bring him glory and honor.” 

“Are you going to turn me in, Clarisse?” 

Her knight looks at her, then. Really looks. Silena searches her eyes, her face, for any sort of betrayal. Clarisse exhales slowly, and says, “No.” 

Relief thuds through her body. “Why?” 

“Fuck him,” Clarisse says, running a hand through her hair. "I’m not risking what I have to help him anymore.” 

“So… you and I could be allies?” Silena asks. 

Clarisse gazes at her again, some unreadable emotion in her eyes. Clarisse rises from her seat once more. She kneels in front of Silena, her iron chest plate glinting in the candlelight. She pulls her massive sword from its sheathe and hands it to Silena. 

“We could me more,” Clarisse whispers. 

“What do you mean?” Silena asks, just as breathless. 

"Allow me to swear my vows once more," Clarisse says, pushing her sword into Silena's hands. She does not bow her head, as is customary. Instead, Clarisse looks right into her eyes as she recites new vows.

“I, Clarisse La Rue, lady of bloodshed and daughter of war, swear the vow of knighthood. My life, my sword, and my honor belong to you, Princess Silena,” Clarisse says. Silena inhales sharply, but Clarisse doesn’t stop. “I shall always strive to bring honor and glory to your name. I am your sword, your shield, your knife. I swear myself to you, and to the kingdom you will build, until my last breath.” 

Then, and only then, does Clarisse bow her head. Silena’s heart is hammering in her chest, tears threatening to spill down her face. She manages to stop trembling, though, and says, 

“I charge you, Clarisse La Rue, to be just and brave. I ask for honesty and respect from you. I swear to you, my protector, never to purposefully endanger your life,” Silena whispers, cupping Clarisse’s cheek. “I ask only that you stay by my side and offer me your companionship, wisdom, and advice. You are my sword, my shield, and my knife, as I am yours. May glory and honor be yours.” 

Clarisse inhales sharply, clearly not expecting the change in vows. When she rises, the two of them stand face to face, simply looking at one another. 

Somewhere far below them, the sounds of revelry continue. A rowdy tune plays throughout the castle. A glass shatters. Someone shouts, someone moans, someone laughs. 

Silena thinks of nothing but her knight standing before her. 

As she looks into Clarisse’s eyes, Silena comes to a devastating realization. She trusts this woman. She has never known loyalty or devotion like this. The bond between a lord and knight — or, in this case, a princess and knight — is holy and righteous. It is sacred. Knighthood is not bestowed upon just anyone. 

“I trust you,” Silena tells her. “One day, I hope you can trust me.”

“I do,” Clarisse says solemnly. “I would not swear my life to you if I did not.” 

“What changed?” 

“My hands have been stained with blood for so long,” Clarisse murmurs, looking down at her own gloved hands. “It is all I know. I can offer you very little, princess, beyond violence and rage. I do not have the wisdom, patience, or sensitivity that you and Princess Annabeth possess. But I can be your sword. Your knife. If you are fighting for a future where I… where I don’t have to be like him, then I will do what I can to help you.”

Notes:

this chapter gets at WHY I wanted to write this fic. Clarisse swearing herself to Silena, instead of to the kingdom?? pledging her life and loyalty to Silena??? the devotion in a knight/lord relationship is something so very personal to me. i needed the Ruegard version, and this chapter really did it for me.

Chapter 7: chapter seven

Summary:

they're never going to catch a break

Falling from you, drop by drop
What I had left here, I just held it tight
So someone with your eyes
Might come in time
To hold me life water
Or Christ, hold me like a knife

"Who We Are" by Hozier

+++++

The next evening, Piper’s birthday celebrations take over the whole city. Aphrodite spares no expense. Even the servants are dressed in finery and jewels — which Silena suspects Rachel secretly loves. 

Silena dines with Percy and Annabeth in the gardens that afternoon, though the party still rages around them. Percy, who looks exhausted, eyes a dancer who is currently twirling batons and silks through the air. 

“Do the parties here always go on for days on end?” he asks.

“Sometimes,” Silena admits, a smile tugging at her lips. “Tonight will be the biggest yet, I’m afraid. It’s the last party of the week, and Aphrodite will want it to be memorable.” 

Silena fills them in on the details of the events, and what they should expect. When she is sure no one else is in the garden, except for Clarisse, Silena tells her friends of her allies. Dionysus and Piper, for sure. She’s fairly sure she can get Hades and Persephone, a pair of advisors in court, to side with her. The hardest part, she tells them, is Ares. 

Once Aphrodite gets wind of Silena’s betrayal, Ares will raise his armies against Silena. There will be no hiding or running from him. His soldiers are loyal to him; he’s a god in their eyes. 

“I have to figure that out,” Silena mutters, dragging a hand down her face. “How go your problems, then?” 

“I think Bellona will side with me,” Annabeth whispers. “She’s our war general and an important advisor in court. But her daughter, Reyna, thinks she can be convinced to side with peace. Bellona is intense and favors violence, but even she knows when to stop. I’m not sure about Hermes, though. He’s close to my mother. He’s influential, too. When he wants to send a message, people listen. I’d be foolish to underestimate him.” 

Silena nods, somewhat comforted to hear Annabeth has troubles of her own. She makes it sound so easy in their letters, but it’s not. None of this is easy. Silena spends every day of her life questioning if she’s doing the right thing. 

“What about Luke? He wanted to look for foreign aid. Has he found anyone willing to help us, should Ares, Bellona, or Hermes prove a challenge?” Silena asks. 

“He’s been gone for a while,” Percy admits. “We only met up with him on the road here, actually. He’s been traveling, meeting people in secret. He’s good at that, though. I’m sure he’ll have an update for us soon.” 

Silena nods, relieved to hear Luke is making some sort of progress. With that charming smile and those dark eyes, she’s sure he’ll be able to secure alliances across the seas. 

“Do you have a marriage alliance lined up?” Annabeth asks.

“Not yet,” Silena says. “Mother didn’t feel the need to arrange marriages for us. As her daughters, she assumed we would be able to secure offers pretty easily.” 

“It must be nice, though, to choose your own path,” Annabeth says. “I was lucky enough to do the same.” 

Percy grins dopily at her, which makes both women laugh. Clarisse shuffles uncomfortably. The knight stands yards away beneath a maple tree, her eyes trained on the surrounding gardens and shadows. A few other guards litter the area, but none as devoted as Clarisse, of that Silena is sure. 

“I hope to marry for love,” Silena agrees, “But I am not above marrying for an alliance. The thought of it does not bother me as it does my sister.” 

“For a kingdom so proud of its pleasure, beauty, and love, you sure are a cynic,” Annabeth says. 

Silena smiles politely, though she knows it does not meet her eyes. “Not all of us are destined for a great love story, I’m afraid. I believe in the power of love, sure. I must. It is the foundation of all my beliefs. But I’m not foolish enough to believe I’m owed it.” 

Annabeth’s gaze softens, but she says nothing else of the matter. 

+++++

Silena doesn’t touch the wine that evening at the grand celebration. She’d woken with a horrific headache this morning after splitting two bottles of wine with Clarisse last night. Today, she’s decided to be a grown-up and stick to water. 

She dances with a few of the visiting nobles. Percy is kind enough to grace her with a dance, and when they flit about the room in a fast-paced waltz, he apologizes for his anger the night before. 

“You do not owe me forgiveness, but I am sorry about yesterday,” he says. “Clarisse and I have our issues that started years ago, miles from here, on a battlefield. I apologize for bringing those issues into your home.” 

Silena smiles politely at one of the lords in her court who’s been glaring at her all night. Then she looks at Percy, and says, “I’m sorry, too. We’re still getting used to the feeling of trusting other people. Clarisse means well, but she’s… well, she likes to fight.” 

Percy laughs, “As do I. Whatever comes next, I’m at least glad you have someone like her guarding your back.” 

After that, the awkwardness is gone. Silena, Percy, and Annabeth resume their friendship like there was never an issue. Clarisse trails Silena all night, of course, but this time she doesn’t say anything to Percy. She nods her head in his direction — the only acknowledgment he will get from her. He seems content with that. 

Piper dances with Jason Grace, the blond lord from the north. When it’s over, though, she quickly leaves him in the middle of the dance floor and approaches Silena. 

“He’s handsome,” Silena says, raising an eyebrow at her sister. 

“He is,” Piper agrees. “But I’m afraid my attention has already been stolen tonight.” 

“Oh?” 

Piper flushes but says no more. Oh, dear gods, Silena wants to pry. She wants to rip the information right out of her sister. Who has caught her eye? Who is she trying to woo? But Silena has her own secrets, and she’d be mortified to voice them aloud to her younger sister. So she lets Piper go, content with the fact that her sister is happy. 

An hour later, while Silena is chatting with Lord Dionysus, she notices just how many people are now in the room. Did more guests arrive? A bunch of people dressed in lavish ball gowns filter into the room, decorative masks shielding their faces. Silena is sure there was no mention of a masquerade— 

“Oh, the entertainment has arrived!” Dionysus says, clapping his hands together excitedly. 

Silena silently rolls her eyes; only the gods know what Aphrodite has arranged for the last party of the week. The masked performers stalk through the room, intermingling with the crowd. Whatever they’re here for apparently isn’t starting at this exact moment. 

Across the room, Silena spies Percy and Annabeth in deep conversation with Luke. The three of them laugh and chat, and it becomes clear that they’ve all known each other for years. That jealousy roars to life inside of her yet again. She tries to ignore it. 

“You’ve been awfully friendly with the foreigners tonight, dear.” 

Silena shudders when she hears her mother’s voice. She swallows down her fears and nerves and turns her head to face Aphrodite. The queen looks like she stepped right out of a painting. She’s the most beautiful thing in the room. In the country. In the world. Silena curtsies respectfully in front of her mother, whose eyes are currently on Percy and Annabeth. 

“They’re interesting to me,” Silena says, trying to decide how to play this. “I am intrigued by Pylos.” 

“It’s nothing more than a hunk of rock full of aspiring scholars,” Aphrodite snaps. “What there could possibly hold your interest?” 

Silena licks her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. Her mother can never know about her friendship with Annabeth. She can never suspect there is anything to be concerned about. 

“I suppose I just want the peace negotiations to go well, Mother,” Silena says, trying to sound bored. “War isn’t pretty.” 

At that, Aphrodite snorts. “No, it is not. But sometimes it is necessary.” 

Silena’s heart pounds in her chest so loudly it’s truly a miracle her mother can’t hear it. The only thing that keeps her steady, that keeps her grounded, is the comforting presence of Clarisse. Her knight stands at her back, only a breath away. Aphrodite doesn’t even look at Clarisse. 

“Be careful of the strangers, darling,” Aphrodite says. “You never know what they actually want.” 

For a moment, Silena is certain her mother knows of her plans. What was she thinking by trying to overthrow this woman? Aphrodite has woven webs all across her kingdom; she hears everything. She knows everything. Silena was a fool. Silena is a traitor. Silena is—

Aphrodite smiles and squeezes her hand. “I think your sister is enjoying the week, don’t you?” 

“I do,” Silena says, exhaling slowly. She breathes in deeply, the smell of Clarisse’s cologne a welcome anchor. 

“Where is she, anyway?” Aphrodite muses, scanning the crowd. 

Silena looks, too. Piper isn’t with Annabeth, Percy, or any of Silena’s friends from court. She’s not with the handsome Jason. She’s nowhere to be seen. Silena cocks her head, scouring the crowd. When she notices who else is missing, she smirks. 

“She’ll be back, I’m sure,” Silena says, patting her mother’s arm comfortingly. “Probably out getting some air.” 

Aphrodite straightens, pleased with the answer. She says nothing else before drifting away, calling out for a new song to start. Her guard moves with her. Five of the finest soldiers in the kingdom trail behind her, eyes narrowed on any threat in the room. 

Ares approaches the queen, dipping into a low bow before her. She smiles at him, trailing a delicate hand across her armored arm. Silena frowns and looks away, not desiring to see her mother flirt. 

Silena glances over her shoulder at Clarisse, who is watching them, too. Clarisse’s lips tug into a frown. The knight rolls her eyes at her father and looks at Silena. 

“Kind of gross that our parents are…” Silena says, trailing off. She doesn’t want to finish the sentence. 

Clarisse flushes. “He’s barely my father.” 

“You two weren’t close, then?” Silena asks. 

They begin to move through the room, side by side. Clarisse often tries to walk behind Silena — a show of respect — but Silena slows her gait every time so they can walk next to each other. She doesn’t care much for decorum — and certainly not during a party like this. 

“He raised me, sure,” Clarisse says, sounding oddly talkative. “But I grew up in a house that threatened to crack beneath my feet. It was full of tension and fear. If I messed up, I knew my father’s rage would burn the world down.” 

Silena ponders over that for a while, not rushing to fill the space with meaningless words. She has no idea what it would have been like to grow up the way Clarisse did. She grew up with love, beauty, and joy all around her. Sure, most of that sweetness was sickening. It was a fake life full of sickly-sweet lies. But she still knew love. Her mother and father, as strange as they are, love her and Piper. Unlike Clarisse, Silena has a sister who loves her. 

“What about your brother?” 

“Which one?” Clarisse snorts. “Ares has many bastard children. I’m just the oldest.” 

Silena stumbles to a stop, turning to look at her friend. Her knight. “I didn’t know.” 

Clarisse shrugs, feigning indifference. But Silena knows her well enough, now. She can see Clarisse’s sadness and fear in the tension of her shoulders. In the clench of her jaw. 

“There are a few younger than me,” she says. “Sherman, Frank, and a few more. They’re just kids, though. Not even eighteen, yet. I had an older brother, Deimos. He died in battle, as we're all destined to." 

Deimos. Silena knows his name, of course. He was a fearsome soldier in battle, just like his father. Perseus killed him a few years ago. Ares didn’t even shed a tear for his son. Instead, he’d talked about his new protege. 

“Oh gods," Silena says, remembering that day in court. "You were the replacement, weren’t you?”  

“We will win this war for you,” Ares told Aphrodite. 

Silena stirred in her seat, trying desperately not to cry. Only sixteen, and already she knows the weight and burden of war. Ares’ son just died in battle, and here he stands, promising success to Silena’s mother. Why didn’t he cry? Why didn’t the general cry when his son died?

“I was sorry to hear of your son, Ares,” Aphrodite said. “Are the soldiers that were under Deimos’ control ready to join your ranks?” 

“Yes,” Ares replied. “They will eventually follow my new protegé. My eldest daughter. She is quick and eager to follow in her brother’s footsteps.” 

Aphrodite grinned. “If she is anything like you, she will be perfect.” 

“I was,” Clarisse agrees. Silena blinks a few times, trying to forget the lack of emotion on Ares’ face that day. “I was only sixteen when I fought in my first battle.” 

“I’m sorry, Clarisse.” 

Again, Clarisse just looks at her. She doesn’t say anything; she doesn’t have to. Silena enjoys these moments when she just gets to gaze at Clarisse. The knight opens her mouth to say something, but a shout on the other side of the hall cuts her off. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Dionysus snaps, pushing one of the masked performers out of his way. Wine spills down the lord’s white shirt, looking shockingly like blood. Dionysus grumbles a few more profanities but wanders out of the hall to change. 

The performer merely bows to the surrounding members of the crowd. Silena feels bad for her, then. She’s just some girl, forced to dress in an ugly masquerade costume and forced to attend the queen’s stupid parties to entertain the queen’s stupid guests. 

Silena takes a step forward, intending to go apologize to the masked performer, when Clarisse closes her hand around Silena’s shoulder. 

“What?” Silena asks, eyeing Clarisse. 

The knight is looking at the opposite side of the room, eyes narrowed on something. Someone. Silena tries to follow her gaze, but there are too many people in the way. Why are there so many people here? Someone bumps into Silena, making her stumble out of Clarisse’s grip. 

Someone else runs into her and doesn’t bother apologizing. Again, Silena is pushed and pulled through the crowd, further and further away from her knight. Clarisse shoves people out of her way, eyes on Silena, now. Silena holds her ground, glaring at the party guests around her. Really, are they so drunk they don’t even recognize who they’re shoving around? 

Silena smells smoke, then. Aphrodite never lights fires in the middle of her parties. There have been too many guests drunkenly stumbling into the flames. Silena cranes her neck, trying to look around the packed throne room. Aphrodite is lounging on her throne, talking to Ares. Piper and Reyna are still nowhere to be seen. Why can Silena smell smoke? 

“Silena!” Clarisse shouts her name, but over the hubbub and music of the party, no one moves out of her way. Silena looks at Clarisse, at her brow creased in worry.

And then Silena looks behind Clarisse. 

On the far side of the hall, in a corner shrouded in shadow, Silena sees two masked figures. They’re dressed in the finery of court, but their masks… they aren’t the bejeweled masks of a masquerade. They’re plain, and dark, and cover their entire faces. Just like the assassins in Pylos. Silena registers several things at once: 

The two figures in the corner are lighting a fire. 
Her sister is missing from the room. 
Clarisse is too far away from her. 
The masked performers are all drawing weapons from places hidden within their massive dresses. 

Someone screams. Silena hears the distinct and sickening sound of a weapon tearing through flesh. More screaming. 

“SILENA!” Clarisse is shoving through the crowd, now. Silena is trapped between the squirming bodies of drunk and panicked party guests. An elbow slams into Silena’s face, and she stumbles into someone else.

BOOOOOOOOM!

The explosion rocks the entire castle. Silena is thrown to the floor in a sudden rush of strong, hot air. Her back slams into the stone with such force that she’s pretty sure she blacks out for a few moments.

When she comes to, she can’t hear anything other than a faint ringing.

Her head hurts.

Everything is so blurry.

Grey mist hangs in the air. No, not mist. Ash. Soot. She blinks a few times, and that’s when she realizes there is something on her face. She lifts a hand to her forehead. When she pulls her fingers away, they’re covered in blood. 

Her hearing slowly comes back.

The ringing gets fainter.

She can hear screaming. Crying. The blast seems to have blown her several yards away from where she’d been standing. Bodies litter the ground. Most of them are moving, crying out, but plenty aren’t. Silena pushes herself to her feet unsteadily. Around the room, those masked performers are moving quickly and efficiently through the remaining crowd. 

Ares is guarding Aphrodite. Good. The queen is alive and safe. 

Silena stumbles, her vision going a bit blurry again. Where is her sister? Where is Piper? 

Silena tries to call out for her, but her voice is hoarse and dry. She stumbles again. Piper wasn’t in here when it happened. She was gone. She was with Reyna, somewhere else in the castle. Piper is safe. Aphrodite is alive. 

She scans the grey, bloody room. So many bodies. Bodies of her friends, her court, her peers. Oh gods, where are Percy and Annabeth? Silena whips her head back and forth, searching for the foreign royals. She spies Percy a few yards away, helping Annabeth to her feet. Percy’s face is bleeding. Silena takes a step toward them. 

Bells and horns are sounding, now. Guards are rushing into the throne room. Battling the assassins. Silena trips over a body and lands on the floor, her arms reaching out at the last second to break her fall. 

Where’s Clarisse? 

The explosion came from right behind her. Clarisse had been trying to get to her, to Silena— 

Silena blinks rapidly, begging her legs to work underneath her. She pushes herself upright again, stumbling through the fights around her. The guards are putting up a good fight, but there are more masked assassins, armed, hurrying into the throne room. How did they get in? 

“Clarisse?!” Silena shouts. 

“Would you shut up?” 

Someone grabs Silena’s arm and pulls her back. Silena screams and slams her elbow into their face. She turns, hands clenched, ready to hit them— “Clarisse?” 

Clarisse clutches her nose, which is bleeding profusely. She looks terrible. Her face is dusted in grey soot, her nose is bleeding, and there’s definitely a fresh splatter of blood on her armor. Clarisse grabs Silena again and drags her out of the middle of the room. 

Clarisse cuts down assassin after assassin, as Silena has seen her do several times before. Each time, though, Silena is struck with awe. Even after an explosion, after Silena nearly broke her nose, Clarisse fights with a precise rage. Every movement is controlled and full of vicious glee. 

Clarisse slams her spear through a masked performer's neck. Blood splatters on her armor and face. Clarisse’s free hand is still holding onto Silena, dragging her to safety. 

Silena doesn’t remember when they started running. She doesn’t remember when they left the throne room. But now they’re running through the ashy, smoky halls of the castle. Clarisse drags her through clouds of smoke while Silena gasps and coughs. The knight drags her into a storage room near the kitchens, shoving Silena into the dark before slamming the door closed behind them. 

Clarisse’s face is splattered with blood. Red droplets cling to her skin like rain. Her hands are trembling as they raise her sword higher into the air. Clarisse looks at Silena, then. Clarisse’s voice is ragged, but she surges toward Silena and says, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

“I’m fine,” Silena says, showing Clarisse her arms. She winces when Clarisse gingerly touches a finger to her head. “It doesn’t hurt much. I’m okay.” 

Clarisse nods, still silent. Her eyes are wide. Even in the dark of this room, with only a single candle to provide them light, Clarisse’s dark eyes shine. 

“It’s the same people,” Clarisse says. She bites the tip of her glove with her teeth, yanking it off. She tosses it to the ground, then does the same with the other. Silena stares at her hands. Clarisse wraps her long fingers around the hilt of her sword, gripping it tightly. “I have to go back out there, Sil.” 

Silena doesn’t even have time to freak out over Sil. She startles, her heart racing, and reaches out for Clarisse. She grips her hand, her bare hand and bare skin, and says, “Don’t leave me, Clarisse.” 

“I will not bring you with me,” Clarisse says, nostrils flaring. “Not into that hell.” 

“We don’t even know what’s going on out there!” Silena protests. “We don’t know how many of them there are. We don’t know who is still… still alive. Don’t go.” 

“We know those are the same assassins that attacked Pylos,” Clarisse says, voice softening. “We know the queen is alive. We know Ares is alive. We know Percy, Annabeth, and Piper are alive. Luke and Reyna are unaccounted for. Your court is unaccounted for. I need to get out there, Silena, to make sure we survive this.” 

Silena knows she’s right. Silena is eager to know who is alive and survived the blast. She needs to find her sister and her friends. She thinks of Rachel, then. Rachel, her servant, who has no idea what’s going on. Lee, Katie, Beckendorf... have they found somewhere to hide? Are they fighting back?

Beneath that anger, that need to survive, is terror. She can’t stop shaking. She can’t stop her mind from picturing her friends’ dead faces. 

“Stay with me,” Silena says, aware it sounds like begging. “Don’t go out there. Ares will coordinate a defense. Everyone will be fine. Stay with me.” 

Clarisse shakes her head, “I cannot sit by while the castle is attacked. I need to find my father. I need to organize a line of defense. They’re everywhere out there. They could be headed here right now, looking for you. I have to stop that from happening.” 

Clarisse has always been ready. Whenever something happens, she’s rearing and reactive. It must be exhausting to live like that. 

“Relax, Clarisse,” Silena says, her words soothing and soft. She traces a circle on the inside of Clarisse’s palm with her thumb. She shouldn’t still be touching Clarisse. She should drop her hand. She can’t.  

“If I relaxed my body now, I’d fall apart,” Clarisse tells her, huffing out a cold laugh. “I’ve always lived like this, and it’s the only way I know how to go on. If I relaxed even for a second, I would cease to exist as the only thing I was ever meant to be: a weapon.” 

“You’re more than that,” Silena tells her. “You are.”

Clarisse doesn’t look convinced. Her eyes travel over Silena’s body, as if needing the reassurance that Silena is okay. Silena does the same. Her eyes travel from Clarisse’s bloody face to her arms, to her bare hands, to the spear. Silena’s eyes snag on a fresh wound on Clarisse’s side. It looks like a knife wound, maybe? Shrapnel from the blast? 

“Clarisse, you’re hurt!” Silena gasps, reaching for her. Clarisse steps away. 

“I’m fine,” the knight says. Even as she says it, Silena notices the way her shoulders sag. Her voice is uneven; her words slurred. 

“No, you’re not,” Silena growls. “If you’re determined to leave me behind while you go save the day, at least let me sew you up, first.” 

Clarisse hesitates for a moment, then nods. She slides her sword back into its scabbard. She sags against the wall of the closet, breathing heavily. “I think it was something from the blast,” she grunts. “Just see if you can clean it up and sew it up. I’ll have a healer look at it eventually.” 

Silena nods but notices her hands are shaking. She ignores it. “Take your shirt off, then.” 

Silena’s cheeks heat up as she watches Clarisse slowly, painfully, try to drag her own shirt off. “Wait,” Silena says, noting the growing patch of red blood on her side with each movement. “Just — let me.” 

Clarisse doesn’t argue. She doesn’t do much of anything, actually, as Silena steps closer and carefully removes her shirt. It takes some time to get the shirt off of Clarisse without lifting Clarisse’s arm, but Silena manages it. 

This isn’t the first time Silena has seen her knight without a shirt on. They share a room; Silena has seen glimpses of Clarisse changing. She saw her in the training room days ago. But this time it's different because Clarisse is right here. Silena has to touch her. 

Silena raises her shaking hands and inspects the gash on Clarisse’s side. It’s not large, but it looks deep. Blood is oozing from her side, spilling down her hip and onto her pants. Silena is certainly no trained healer, but she knows enough about needlework to sew it up. She uses her own dress to wipe the blood away. As she works, threading a needle and pushing it into Clarisse’s skin, her hands grow steadier. 

“How do you know how to do this?” Clarisse asks. Her breath is hot on Silena’s face.

“They don’t teach princesses how to triage wounds, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Silena says, biting her bottom lip as she focuses on threading the needle again. “But we are taught needlework; crochet, knitting, embroidery.” 

“Ah,” Clarisse responds, wincing when Silena sticks her again. “You’d think after so many years at war I’d know how to sew up my own wounds, but alas, I never learned.” 

“For someone so determined to get hurt, it’s a skill I think you should know,” Silena mutters. Clarisse chuckles. 

Finally, she finishes sewing up the gash. The blood stops oozing from Clarisse. Silena rips off a clean section of her dress and wraps it around Clarisse’s torso a few times to put pressure on the injury. She certainly doesn’t talk or look at Clarisse while she’s running her hands over Clarisse’s exposed stomach. Her very hard, muscled stomach. She has abs. 

Silena’s mouth is dry when she steps away. Her hands are covered in blood, now, but she doesn’t care. She wipes her hands on her dress absentmindedly. She allows herself exactly five seconds to soak in the view — abs, muscled arms, skin — before she turns away and allows Clarisse to pull her shirt back on. 

“Thank you,” Clarisse says softly. 

“Will you do something for me?” Silena asks, looking her knight right in the eye. 

“Anything.” 

“Stay with me a little longer,” Silena says, ignoring the devotion lacing Clarisse’s words. “If you leave me here, I’m defenseless. If they find me, I’m as good as dead. They’re going to search the castle, soon. They’ll need survivors and royals to hold for ransom. That has to be why they’ve come again. They’re testing our defenses, learning the layout of our castles.” 

“Seems like an awful lot of death just for experimentation,” Clarisse notes. 

“I agree,” Silena says, sagging against the wall. “But you’ve seen them. They don’t care if they live or die. It’s like they're not fully human. There’s no fear on their faces. No anger, either. They’re just doing the bidding of someone else. We need to figure out who the someone else is — and what they want.” 

+++++

They huddle in the dark for over an hour as the sounds of fighting slowly fade around them. Clarisse dozes off a few times, which makes Silena worry. She checks the wound a few more times, but she’d be lying if she said she had any idea what to do. She’s done everything she can. Now, she needs a healer. 

“This way.” 

Silena inhales sharply when she hears a voice on the other side of the door. Footsteps coming down the hallway. So far, they’d been lucky. No one has come past their little broom closet. Silena crouches next to Clarisse, who is currently slumped against the wall. “Clarisse,” she whispers, shaking the other girl slightly. “Wake up.” 

Clarisse’s eyes flutter open. Her breathing is worse; much more ragged. But she still pushes to her feet. “What is it?” she asks, hoarse. 

“Voices.” 

Clarisse unsheathes her sword and stumbles forward a step, before steadying herself. Silena reaches out and steadies her, ignoring Clarisse’s grunt of protest. She slips her shoulder under Clarisse’s shoulder, wraps her arm around the knight’s midsection, and props her up. 

“You’ve saved my life several times, now,” Silena mutters. “Let me help you.” 

“You’re more important,” Clarisse mumbles. “Listen, I've got a plan. I’m going to go out there and draw them away from you. Wait a few minutes, then leave. Run for the stables. Get my horse, Nisos, and flee. He's strong and steady, he can get you where you need to go. I would go north, first, to—” 

“I am not leaving my home to fall into the hands of enemies,” Silena snaps. 

“You are so fucking stubborn, ” Clarisse groans. 

Despite her fear, anger, and exhaustion, Silena smiles. “And you said I have a dirty mouth.” 

“You do,” Clarisse grumbles, looking at Silena’s mouth. Silena freezes under her gaze. Clarisse looks away first, back to the closed door. “Fine. If you won’t run, then I need you to listen to me very closely, alright?” 

Silena nods, too flustered to speak. 

“Stay close to me, and do what I tell you when I tell you.” 

Chapter 8: chapter eight

Summary:

resisting the urge to have them kiss is my full-time job ;)

Every day, I add another stone
To the walls I built around you
To keep you safe
Oh, don't leave me here alone
Don't tell me that we've grown
For having loved a little while
Oh, I don't wanna be alone
I wanna find a home
And I wanna share it with you

"Hello My Old Heart" by The Oh Hellos

+++++

Watching Clarisse fight is like watching a fire burn. Her weapon becomes an extension of her body, indistinguishable from her arm. The spear whirls through the air like a lick of flame. Where it touches, destruction follows. Silena should probably be afraid of the woman before her. She should certainly be cautious, at the very least. 

But as she watches Clarisse slam her bloody spear into a masked assassin, Silena feels nothing but admiration. 

She knew the bond between a royal and their knight was intense. It has to be, after such forced proximity and quality time. Silena is pretty sure this is something else, though. This tug in her gut, this draw toward Clarisse, is unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. 

Clarisse roars and kicks an attacker in the chest, sending the man tumbling down the staircase. When Clarisse turns to look at her, chest rising and falling rapidly and face covered in blood, Silena feels hot. Flushed. 

She rolls her shoulders to dispel some of her anxious energy. 

Silena always thought she was alone in this fight. She’s come to terms with the fact that she’s going to have to betray her entire family, and kingdom, to bring peace. But when she looks at Clarisse, who has just killed a dozen people for her, Silena dares to wish for more. For friendship, sure, but perhaps success, too. With Clarisse at her side, Silena would be unstoppable. 

Who could stand against her? No one has survived her yet — no one but Perseus. Clarisse takes a deep breath before saying, “Follow me.” 

Silena couldn’t disobey even if she wanted to. Something about Clarisse’s voice is commanding and inspiring. Silena suddenly gets the distinct feeling that she would do anything her knight told her to do. With that unnerving thought, Silena follows Clarisse up the stairs. 

They creep through the castle silently. Clarisse pauses at every corner, making sure she doesn’t hear any footsteps beyond. No soldiers come racing past. Not even a servant stumbles across them. 

Silena’s stomach twists and turns into knots with each passing minute. She needs to know who still lives. She needs to find her sister. She needs—

Clarisse freezes, and Silena nearly slams into her back. The knight draws her spear, fingers twitching. 

“What is it?” Silena asks. 

“Instinct.”

Silena doesn't argue or push for more information. Clarisse has kept her alive this far; who is she to question her? Silena holds her breath and waits. Minutes tick by, but Clarisse never moves. She stays perfectly poised, spear drawn, as she waits. 

“I think they’re moving on, let’s go,” Clarisse says. 

She’d been listening? How had she even heard someone? Silena just shakes her head and follows silently. Slowly, but surely, they make their way to the entrance of the castle. They pass no one. The castle is eerily silent. No one is screaming, anymore. There haven’t been any more explosions, either, thank the gods. 

Once they make it to the main level, the same level as the throne room, Silena exhales. The hallways are a wreck. Discarded clothes, shoes, weapons, and rubble line the floors. Blood is splattered on the walls. Soot and ash have ruined the tapestries. Silena has no desire to see what the throne room looks like, now. 

Clarisse crouches in front of her, those long fingers tightening around the shaft of her spear. 

Ares steps around the corner before them, face and clothes covered in blood. A greatsword is in his hand — Silena averts her eyes from the gore-covered blade. When the general sees his daughter, he grins. His pearly white teeth are striking against the crimson blood covering his face. 

“I knew you’d make it,” he says, clapping Clarisse on the shoulder. She winces, the movement clearly causing her pain. Ares looks at Silena, then, and his smile grows wider, “And the heir lives, too. Thank the gods.” 

Silena forces herself not to roll her eyes.

“What’s going on?” she asks the general. “We’ve been lying low since the explosion. What news have you?” 

Ares straps the greatsword to his back, not bothering to clean it first. He crosses his big, beefy arms over his chest and says, “The Queen lives. She is sequestered safely in the western tower, with every palace guard still living guarding her quarters. I’ve been scouring the castle and hunting the remaining intruders.” 

“What are they doing? Just wandering around?” Clarisse snaps. 

“Killing and hunting,” Ares responds, grinning. “Several members of the court are dead. A few of their children, too.” 

“Who?” Silena asks, heart racing. 

“The treasurers are dead,” Ares says with a grunt. “Charles Beckendorf, too. Lee Fletcher is dead; pity, because the kid was a great shot. The explosion got him. A few other lords and ladies, I’m sure.” 

Silena’s breath turns ragged as the grief slams into her. Charles and Lee were her friends. They all grew up together. She stumbles, but Clarisse is there to steady her. Silena can see the pain in Clarisse’s eyes, too. She knows what it’s like to lose friends to battle. 

“Lord Dionysus still lives?” Silena asks. “My sister? The royals from Pylos?” 

“All unaccounted for,” Ares responds. “Except Dionysus. He, and a few others, have locked themselves in the kitchens. Door won’t budge, so I’m sure they’re alive.” 

Good. That’s good. Silena tries to reassure herself. She tries to slow her breathing. She wraps her arms around herself to keep from shaking. Clarisse puts a hand on her back, and again, it anchors her to the ground. 

“Should I take Princess Silena to the queen’s chambers?” Clarisse asks. 

“Sure,” Ares says. “If they’ll let her in. Once you deposit her there, come find me. We have a castle to purge.” 

Clarisse swallows, her shoulders falling. Silena tracks every movement. “Yes, father.” 

Clarisse turns to her, exhaustion clear in her eyes, but Silena holds up a hand. “No.” 

Ares raises an eyebrow. “Princess, it would be safest for you with your mother.” 

Silena ignores Ares and looks at Clarisse, at her knight. Even with blood dried on her face, Clarisse is lovely. She is so beautiful and yet so strong. Silena didn’t know the two could coexist, but Clarisse is proof of it. Silena will not allow herself to be removed from Clarisse’s side. 

“I go where you go,” Silena says to Clarisse. 

Clarisse’s eyes widen ever so slightly. To Silena’s surprise, Clarisse doesn’t turn her away or argue. Instead, the knight turns back to her father. “She stays with me.” 

Ares shrugs, “Fine. But if she dies because of your failure, you know I’ll have to kill you.” 

Silena winces at the harsh tone in Ares’ words. How could he so casually say a thing to his daughter? Clarisse seems used to it. She nods in understanding, then removes her hand from Silena’s back. 

Silena follows Ares and Clarisse through the castle. Every time they stumble upon a rogue assassin, Ares cuts them down with ease and joy. Most of the assassins are busy combing through the castle. Some are looting, others are clearly tracking down royals, and others are mapping out the castle. Every time Ares approaches them, they submit to their fate. 

They fight back, of course, but they never run. They don’t flee. They choose death, instead. 

Clarisse stays by Silena’s side the entire time, only lifting her blade when there is more than one attacker at a time. 

Silena winces as Ares kicks down the library doors. On the other side, Percy and Luke wield their swords. Behind the men, Annabeth, Piper, and Reyna await. Reyna has a sword drawn, and she stands protectively in front of the two princesses — a last line of defense. 

Percy’s eyes narrow on Ares’ face. The war general laughs boldly but drops his sword arm. Percy doesn’t immediately drop his weapon. 

“How strange it is to be on the same side, eh?” Ares asks. 

Percy and Luke exchange a look, then lower their weapons. They step aside, allowing Ares, Clarisse, and Silena into the room. Silena rushes past the warriors and hugs her sister. Piper is strong and steady, and hugs her back just as fiercely. 

“Are you alright?” Silena whispers, not letting her go. 

“Unharmed,” Piper responds, voice wavering. “Reyna saved my life.” 

Silena pulls away from her sister and turns to the woman — to Lady Reyna, another child of war. Reyna looks uncomfortable with the attention, but she meets Silena’s gaze. 

“Thank you,” Silena says. “I will reward you with anything you wish for saving her.” 

Reyna’s eyes widen and she takes a step back, as if not having expected praise. A flush breaks out across her cheeks. “It was nothing, my lady. I did what anyone would have.”

Piper snorts. “You had a chance to escape and came back for me when three assassins tried to kill me. And you were ready to take a knife for me.” 

Reyna’s gaze softens. “Thankfully it didn’t come to that.” 

A laugh bubbles up and out of Silena. She has no idea if it’s the relief at seeing Piper, or the sheer adrenaline running through her, but she laughs. Her sister gives her another hug. 

Clarisse’s hand on her back brings her back to the present state of things. Silena pulls away from Piper, subconsciously leaning into Clarisse’s touch. The knight doesn’t immediately remove her hand. 

“We need to move on,” Clarisse tells her. “It’s not safe here. We can’t hold this position if more assassins come.”

Her words mobilize the rest of the royals. Percy, Luke, and Reyna form a triangle around Annabeth, who is also armed with a sword. Ares and Clarisse guard Silena and Piper as their odd group moves out of the library. 

They walk further and further into the castle, each step taking them farther away from the exit. Ahead of them, the sounds of clanking metal and marching feet. Clarisse pokes her head around the corner. When she looks back at the group, relief lines her face. 

“It’s the queen’s men. They’re heading toward the throne room,” she says to her father. “The castle must be clear.”

A shadow passes over Ares’ face. He blinks. Then, “Let’s join them.” 

Ares leads the group back to the throne room. He’s so confident he doesn’t even draw his sword. Silena follows close behind him, desperate not to let the man out of her sight. The last thing she needs is Ares wandering off and harming someone important with his bloodlust. There was a moment in the library when she thought he was going to kill Percy. 

When they enter the throne room, Silena sucks in a breath. The once beautiful room is destroyed. Ash still hangs in the air. Part of the ceiling has collapsed. The tapestries have burnt up. The dinner tables are lying on their sides, food and drink spilled on the ground. The bodies that once littered the ground have been moved. 

Aphrodite sits on her throne. The throne next to her — Silena’s father’s seat — is empty and cracked. A wave of panic courses through her; is he dead? 

Thankfully, Tristan steps out from behind a group of soldiers and smiles at her as she enters the room.

“Dad!” 

Piper runs forward and into his arms. He spins her in a circle, hugging her tight. Silena doesn't go to him first, though she wants to. She walks to the base of the queen’s throne and looks at her mother. 

Aphrodite looks rumpled. Dirty. Angry. She looks nothing like she did a few hours ago. Her makeup has worn off, and though she is still stunning, there is an ugliness to her now. She clenches her jaw and looks at Silena, anger alive in her eyes. 

But she says nothing to Silena. Instead, she looks at Ares. The general moves forward until he’s standing in front of Silena. He kneels before Aphrodite, and grins when he says, “I did as you asked, my queen.” 

Silena glances at Clarisse but sees her own confusion mirrored on the knight’s face. When Ares rises, guards all around the room surge forward and point their weapons at the royals from Pylos. Percy, Luke, Annabeth, and Reyna freeze as two dozen spears are pointed at them. 

“I hereby sentence you to imprisonment,” Aphrodite calls, anger lacing her tone. “For staging an attack on Cyprus.” 

“We didn’t do this!” Annabeth calls. Her eyes are wide and panicked, “There was an attack on Pylos, too, as you know. During my wedding. This is not our doing, Queen Aphrodite. You must believe me.” 

“Oh, must I?” Aphrodite responds. “All I know is my castle is destroyed, half of my court is dead, and it all happened when you arrived. Take them away.” 

“No!” Silena says. She steps toward her mother, clasping her hands together in front of her pleadingly. “Mother, please, they had nothing to do with this. It makes no sense for them to stage an attack while they’re in the castle. They could have died just as easily as us in that explosion! It makes no sense, mother. This is something else.”

Aphrodite levels her gaze on Silena, and against her will, Silena shudders. Aphrodite’s glare is withering. Silena feels hollow, powerless, weak.  

“Separate them and place them in the dungeons,” Aphrodite tells Ares. “I only need the princess and her husband alive. If the other two give you trouble, kill them.” 

“Mother, no!” Piper protests, moving to stand next to Silena. 

Aphrodite scoffs, “My two daughters, you have been fooled by these Pylos scum. They have tricked you into caring for them so that you would not see when they plunged their knives into your backs. I am not so easily fooled.” 

Piper shakes her head, eyes darting between Aphrodite and Reyna. Oh. Oh. 

“If you imprison us, Queen Athena will retaliate,” Annabeth says, her voice wavering. When Silena looks at her, she sees true fear on Annabeth’s face. Silena knows it’s not for herself — it’s for the peace negotiations. “We will be at war once more.” 

Aphrodite smiles, “Then you should not have attacked us, princess. Take them to the dungeons.” 

Ares and his soldiers move forward, slamming iron shackles around the royals’ wrists. Percy and Luke don’t fight back, though they look eager to. Reyna jerks her hands away and bares her teeth at Ares, but she doesn’t fight. Annabeth looks at Silena as the iron shackles are closed around her wrists. 

“Your Majesty, this isn’t right,” Silena says, desperate. She’s very aware her voice is panicky and weak. She doesn’t care; she kneels in front of her mother and begs. “Don’t start a war because of this hasty decision. Please, Mother. Let there be an investigation into the attack; a trial. Do not imprison them. Let them return home. Let the peace negotiations continue. Please, Mother.” 

“You are quick to defend our enemies, Silena,” Aphrodite snaps. “One might start to think you wish to join them in the dungeons.” 

The surviving court members murmur, clearly uncomfortable with Silena’s defense of the Pylos royals. Even Lord Dionysus, who is on Silena’s side, looks uneasy. That could just be the wine, though. 

Silena watches as her allies and friends are led out of the throne room and to the dungeons. Her heart is racing, her breathing shallow and panicked. This is not good. This is an act of war. Aphrodite is starting the war again, ruining all of their progress. Thousands more will die. Cyprus will crumble, and Silena will have to watch as her people suffer and die in a pointless war. 

No, no, no. 

She failed. She failed. Her friends are going to die in that dungeon, and their kingdoms are going to go to war because Silena failed. She isn’t enough. She couldn't save Beckendorf and Lee; she couldn't save anyone. She isn’t enough to bring peace. She’s failed everyone. 

Silena’s whole body is shaking, now. She’s aware of Aphrodite and Ares talking. Other court members are chiming in, but Silena can focus on nothing but the ground beneath her. She’s still kneeling in front of her mother. 

She’s having a panic attack, of that she’s faintly aware. She’s had them before. She has severe episodes at night, sometimes, when the stress and terror finally get ahold of her. She’s never had one in public, though. If she doesn’t calm the fuck down soon, she’s going to be a shaking, sobbing mess in front of her entire court. 

A hand on her back. 

A soft, low voice whispering in her ear. 

A hand on her chin. Clarisse turns her face, forcing Silena to look at her. Clarisse’s lips are moving, but Silena can’t hear her. She can’t hear anything anymore. It’s like those moments right after the explosion; all she can hear is a faint ringing. 

Silena can feel tears welling up in her eyes. Oh gods, she’s going to break down right here. In front of her mother, sister, and the rest of the court. 

“...carry you. Is that okay?” 

Slowly, so slowly, Silena starts to understand what Clarisse is saying. She just nods. Doesn't Clarisse know she can do anything she pleases with Silena? 

Clarisse turns and says something to Ares and Aphrodite. Now that the castle is secure, I’m going to take Princess Silena to her quarters. Send a healer. Silena can’t even tell who responds. 

Clarisse picks her up. 

Silena inhales sharply as Clarisse hoists her up off the ground and carries her out of the throne room, bridal style. Silena is faintly aware of the whispers that follow. Piper is walking next to them, cursing and rambling angrily. 

Silena ignores her. She ignores everything in the world other than the smell of Clarisse’s cologne. She rests her head against Clarisse’s chest and listens to the thump, thump, thump of her knight’s heartbeat. 

+++++ (Clarisse’s POV) +++++

Clarisse places Silena on the bed. Luckily, the assassins didn’t loot the living quarters, instead focusing their attention on the armory and treasury. Silena’s quarters are untouched when Clarisse and Piper stumble into the room. 

Clarisse’s arms are shaking with the effort of carrying Silena this whole way. When she sets her down on the bed, Silena just lies there. Her eyes are open, and she’s breathing, but she just curls up into a ball and lies there. Tears leak out of her eyes. 

Piper sits on the bed next to her sister, brushing her hair out of her face. 

Clarisse flops down into a chair near the bed with a groan of pain. She is not okay. Silena did a good job stitching her up, but after all the fighting and carrying, the wound had definitely torn open. 

“Princess Piper,” Clarisse says, voice raspy. “I need you to fetch a healer.” 

Piper looks at her, eyes wide. “Are you hurt?” 

“Yes, my lady,” Clarisse says, biting back on her sarcasm and anger. She cannot afford to anger the young princess. “I need… I need Will Solace, the royal physician’s apprentice…” 

She slumps against the table, her hand flying to her side. She puts as much pressure as she can on the wound. Piper rises from the bed and looks between her sister and Clarisse, panicked. 

“I won’t let anything happen to her,” Clarisse promises. “I swear it on my life.” 

Piper nods once, then sprints out of the room. Clarisse closes her eyes and curses loudly. She’s been holding back the pain, the curses, for hours. Now that she’s alone — well, sort of — she lets the pain rise to the surface. 

Silena lies on the bed, unmoving and unblinking. Clarisse wants nothing more than to comfort her, to give her a hug, but she can’t move. Her blood spills onto the floor of Silena’s room.

This would certainly be a pathetic way to die. Sitting in a chair, unarmed, watching her princess weep. Clarisse takes a few deep breaths and then says, “Silena.” 

Silena stirs, but does not rise. It’s like Aphrodite’s anger sucked the very life out of her. Clarisse watched, helpless, as Silena’s secret allies were shackled and thrown in prison. Silena begged. Begged. It was like torture, watching her princess beg and plead for the life of her friends. For the peace of an entire kingdom. 

This peace, as rocky and new as it was, could have changed the world. For once, Clarisse hadn’t longed for war. She’d longed for peace. She’d dreamed of a world ruled by Silena. 

And Aphrodite squandered the chance. She’d seemed happy to arrest the royals from Pylos. She’s eager to return to war, as is Clarisse’s father. 

“Silena,” Clarisse calls again. Each breath causes her pain. “Silena.” 

The princess stirs again, this time moving her head to look at Clarisse. Silena’s eyes are glassy, her face paler than normal. 

“Silena.” 

The princess sits up and blinks a few times, as if waking herself from a dream. And then there she is, Clarisse’s princess. She startles and looks around the room in a panic. She slides off of the bed and pads toward Clarisse, her once-beautiful dress all torn up and bloody, now. 

“Clarisse?” 

Silena kneels in front of her, eyeing the bleeding wound on Clarisse’s side. The princess doesn’t panic, this time. She places her hand over Clarisse’s, adding pressure. 

“Tell me what to do, Clarisse,” Silena whispers. There are tears in her eyes, but she blinks them away. Her blue eyes are so pretty when she cries. “Did you tear it open carrying me up here? You idiot. ” 

“It didn’t seem like such a bad idea at the time,” Clarisse mumbles. She smiles at Silena. “Needed to get you out of there. You weren’t… you weren’t well.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Silena agrees. Her pretty eyes search Clarisse’s. “Thank you.” 

Silena leans a little closer to Clarisse. Her face is so close. Gods, she’s the most beautiful thing Clarisse has ever seen. It seems unfair that something so beautiful should suffer so much. Clarisse wants to tell her that, wants to tell Silena how much she admires her, but her mouth is so dry. She smacks her lips, her breathing growing even more shallow. 

“How did this happen?” Silena whispers, nodding at the wound. 

“The blast,” Clarisse answers. “I should have died, but some fancy lord pushed me in his haste to get away. Knocked me forward. The explosion splintered a wine carafe, and it landed on me. In me.” 

It would have been comical if the glass shards hadn’t splintered inside of her. She often thought she’d die in battle, at the hands of a mighty warrior. Only an honorable, heroic death would do. Something people could whisper about around a fire. Something worthy of ballads. 

But now, the Lady of Bloodshed is dying because of a wine glass.

Pathetic. 

“You didn’t tell me that when I sewed you up,” Silena growls. “If I’d known there were slivers of glass inside you …”

“What would you have done?” Clarisse muses, raising an eyebrow. “You said it yourself. You’re no healer.” 

The princess mutters a few unpleasant curses under her breath, but never once removes her hands from Clarisse’s side. It’s nice, even though it hurts. Silena smells like citrus and her hands are soft. Her breath is warm against Clarisse’s face. 

If this is how she’s to die, maybe it’s not so bad. It’s not what she wanted, but it’s not bad. 

The door thuds open behind Silena, who looks over her shoulder. Piper is there, winded, and behind her is a young man. He’s tall, lithe, and blond — and one of Clarisse’s only friends. Will Solace steps into the princess’ chambers and kneels next to Silena, eyes on Clarisse. 

“Clarisse you imbecile, ” Will grumbles as he looks at the gash. "I swear to all the gods, you're such a fucking idiot..." 

“Oh, I like him,” Silena says, eyeing Will with a small smile on her lips. 

Will straightens, apparently remembering where he is. He bows before Silena, his golden curls flopping boyishly on his forehead. Silena just rolls her eyes at the gesture, which makes Clarisse grunt out a laugh. 

“Can you help her?” Silena asks, tugging Will to his feet. “Nothing else matters to me right now.” 

Will’s mouth falls open, but he nods. “I need room. She needs to be on her back.” 

“My bed, then.” 

“Silena, no—” Clarisse starts. Then she coughs up a bit of blood and decides to shut the hell up. Silena glares at her before pulling her up and out of the wooden chair. It takes all three of them to lift her; two princesses and one healer drag Clarisse to the heir’s bed. 

It’s soft and warm. Feather pillows, then. Clarisse has never slept in a bed as big or luxurious as this one. It envelops her body; she imagines this is what a cloud must feel like. Above her, Will’s face blots out the lantern light. His ice-cold hands run across her abdomen, cutting away the remains of her bloodied shirt. 

Clarisse is faintly aware of Piper and Silena hovering in the corner, watching the healer work. How many times has Will saved her life, now? They traveled together often last year. Will was stationed in Ares’ squadron, the same as her. He was a field medic. He and Clarisse got acquainted with each other very quickly, thanks to her surplus of injuries. 

“I see that spear wound in your chest scarred,” Will says, eyeing one of the nastier scars on her chest. “Looks horrid.” 

Clarisse chokes out a laugh, which makes Will smile, too. They became friends quickly. Will was the only person who could withstand Clarisse’s anger. Usually, he just laughed in her face. They argued a lot, too, though. He could dish out anger just as quickly and readily as her. He called her on her bullshit, as she did him. Gods, she’s missed him. 

“Sit still, Clarisse,” Will whispers. “This is going to hurt.” 

She bites down on a leather strap as he digs the glass out of her body. 

She doesn’t scream.

Notes:

"I go where you go" HELLOOOOO GAYS

Chapter 9: chapter nine

Summary:

the way that i have to remind myself, every chapter, that this is a slow burn and they can't kiss just because i want them to

The thought of you is wrapped around my neck
and I'm choking
This lonely view is blue and violent
in the worst way

"i think about you all the time" by The Maine

+++++

When Clarisse wakes up, the moon is high in the sky. She blinks a few times, trying to figure out where the hell she is. She can’t see the moon from her bed. She’s not in her own bed, then. 

Clarisse tries to sit up, but a white-hot pain thuds through her body at the movement. She yelps and falls onto her back again. Right. She glances at her hip where Will had worked for hours to remove the sharp glass shards from her skin. The wound is stitched up now. Her shirt lies in ragged slivers on the ground. Pity — she’d liked that shirt. 

The princess’ room is dark, but the massive windows allow the moonlight to filter in and illuminate some of the shadows. 

Piper and Will are gone, hopefully sleeping in their own chambers. But Silena is kneeling beside the bed, her hands tucked under her head, only inches away from Clarisse. Had the princess fallen asleep while watching over her? 

“Silena.” 

Clarisse’s voice is hoarse, but she manages it. Silena stirs and cracks open a blue eye. She smiles sleepily as she sits up and stretches. 

“Help me up,” Clarisse says. “I’ll get out of your bed. You need to rest.” 

Silena laughs at her. Full on laughs. Clarisse gazes up at her, trying to figure out what the hell could be so funny right now. The princess just shakes her head and pushes a few strands of black hair from her face. 

“What?” Clarisse snaps. “What’s so funny?” 

“You,” Silena replies. “Always so noble. You’re staying here tonight — no, don’t you dare argue.” 

Clarisse clamps her mouth shut, because she was definitely about to argue. She glares up at Silena. It’s not proper for Clarisse to sleep in a princess’ bed. People will talk. Clarisse is a knight, not a whore. Still, though, she can’t deny this is the nicest bed she’s ever laid in. And she is really tired, now that Silena mentions it. 

“You need to rest, too,” Clarisse mutters, a flush on her cheeks. “You can’t sleep on the floor like that, my lady.” 

Silena raises an eyebrow and places her hands on her hips. “If you want to invite me to bed, just say so, La Rue.” 

Clarisse inhales sharply and ends up choking on her own spit. An amused smile crosses Silena’s face. Clarisse most certainly had not meant that— 

Silena crosses the room and takes off her shoes. Clarisse watches her every step. Silena wipes the remaining kohl, dirt, and tears from her face with a wet rag. It must be in the early hours of the morning, now, if the moon’s height is any clue. Clarisse yawns, but as the princess said, does not try to get out of bed. 

Silena crosses the room and sits on the edge of the massive bed, then does something so insane that Clarisse has to blink a few times to make sure she’s not dreaming. Silena climbs into bed next to her. The princess slips under the covers and settles down into the feather-soft bed, burying her face in a pillow. 

A strange noise of surprise slips out of Clarisse’s mouth. Silena turns over to face her, eyebrow raised. “What, you thought I’d sleep in your bed? No thank you, I like my feather pillows.” 

Clarisse laughs. She can’t help it. The laughter makes her chest hurt, and makes the stitches pull in her side, but it doesn’t matter. It feels so good to laugh after the events of the day. Silena grins at her. 

“Besides, I’ve got to stay here and make sure you don’t die in your sleep,” Silena muses, eyes twinkling. “I’d hate to lose my annoying guard dog.” 

“Ah, with an endearing term like an annoying guard dog, I can tell you really care about me,” Clarisse snorts. There is no malice in her words, to her surprise. She likes being Silena’s guard dog. A little quieter, Clarisse adds, “I promise you, I'm fine. I’ve dealt with worse than this.” 

Silena’s smile fades, then. Her eyes darken as she looks at Clarisse — her face only inches away. “Will mentioned he’s treated you for far worse injuries than today’s.” 

“Ah, yeah, he has,” Clarisse admits. She yawns again, but says, “Two years ago, I caught a spear in the chest. It went right through me. In my stomach and out my back. He dragged me off the battlefield and performed surgery on me right there, in the woods. I almost didn’t make it. I have no idea how he did it, to be honest. He’s skilled with medicine — far more skilled than any one man has a right to be. But I don’t question the gods. Whatever power Will Solace has in those fingers of his, I’m thankful for it. That kid has saved my life half a dozen times, now.” 

Silena shudders, and the movement shakes their shared bed. She sits up in the bed, still eyeing Clarisse, and says, “Can I see the scar?” 

“I—I suppose.”

Clarisse drags the covers away from her body, revealing her chest. She’s still in her bra, thank the gods. A few of her other minor injuries have been wrapped, too. Bless Will. She takes Silena’s hand and directs the princess’ hand to the scar the spear had left. 

She remembers it like it was yesterday. Clarisse had only been seventeen when it happened. Someone had thrown the spear, and she hadn’t seen it coming, and—  thump. It had caught her right in the sternum. She’d felt everything; every sinew snap, every muscle tear. She’d screamed as she hit the ground. 

She doesn’t remember much after that. She remembers screaming as Will Solace pulled it out of her. There was no alcohol, no numbing agent, when he tried to save her life. She’d been awake for every poke, prod, and stitch. It was hell. 

Silena’s soft fingers brush across the jagged, circular scar on Clarisse’s sternum. There’s a matching scar on her back. Silena’s touch is feather-light, and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. She brushes over a few other scars on Clarisse’s stomach. Slashes of silver crisscrossing Clarisse’s tan skin. Clarisse hadn’t realized how muddled and ugly her body was until now. Her face burns in embarrassment as Silena touches her. 

Clarisse takes the opportunity to study the princess. Her skin is flawless and soft, much unlike Clarisse’s. Her eyes are bright, even in the darkness of the night. Her lips are parted ever so slightly as she touches each scar. 

Her eyes flit up to Clarisse’s face, meeting Clarisse’s gaze. 

For a second, neither of them says anything. They both know they’ve been caught. What they’ve been caught in, Clarisse has no idea. She doesn’t know what this… tension is. She’s never experienced anything like it. Every part of Clarisse feels like she’s on fire. This bed felt massive only a few minutes ago. Now that Silena is next to her, it feels tiny. Any movement she makes draws her closer to Silena; Clarisse doesn’t hate it. 

Silena clears her throat and removes her fingertips from Clarisse’s body. The princess burrows deeper under the covers, pulling the furs up until Clarisse can only see her face. 

“I’m glad you’re not dead.” 

“Me too.” 

Clarisse yawns again, and finally allows herself to submit to the exhaustion. As she drifts off to sleep, she hears Silena’s faint, “Goodnight, Clarisse.” 

+++++

Clarisse doesn’t wake until well past noon. She can tell it’s late because the breakfast spread that is usually on the table has already been cleared, and the sun is high in the sky. Silena is gone, and her side of the bed is cold. 

Oh, that bitch. Clarisse groans as she sits up in bed. She swings her legs out of bed, her bare feet meeting the cool stone floor. When she stands up, she’s only dizzy for a few seconds, which she considers a victory. 

She hastily pulls on a fresh pair of trousers and a shirt. She doesn’t bother with armor, today. She straps on her weapons and then heads for the door. Rachel, the fiery redhead, smirks at her as she stumbles. 

“Where is the princess?” Clarisse asks. 

“She’s been in meetings all morning,” Rachel answers. “She’s arguing with the court and trying to free the royals from Pylos.” 

Fuck. Clarisse had almost forgotten about the shit show yesterday. “Why didn’t she wake me?” Clarisse growls. How is Clarisse supposed to protect the princess from bed?

Rachel just smiles. “She thought you should rest.” 

Clarisse groans and pushes past the maidservant. She shoves the door open and spills out into the hallway. There are guards posted outside the bedroom, which Clarisse would normally be very happy to see. She’s glad the security has increased since the attack. Today, however, she’s angry at everything. 

She mutters foul, nasty curses as she descends the tower stairs. Every step is an effort; the stitches in her side pull, and with no pain medication, every single inch of her body seems to be screaming in pain. Nonetheless, she trudges onward — if only to yell at Silena. By the time she reaches the throne room, she’s nearly fuming with anger. How could Silena leave her behind after an attack like yesterday? She should know, now, that nowhere is safe. She needs protection at all times. She is so dumb— 

Clarisse rounds the corner and nearly plows over Princess Silena. Four guards stand behind the princess, and all of them eye Clarisse with distaste. But Silena smiles up at her, and that’s enough to chase away some of Clarisse’s anger. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” 

“You needed rest,” Silena says sternly. “But I knew you’d be pissed if I walked around without someone towering over me. So I got these four to guard me.” Silena turns to face the men, smiling sweetly. “It seems my knight’s health is restored. Thank you for your service. You may go.” 

The four of them bow politely and stalk away, back to whatever posts they used to inhabit. Clarisse raises an eyebrow at Silena, whose smile looks sickeningly sweet. Silena is dressed informally today; in pants, a shirt, and a corset. She even has a knife on her belt. Though her smile is wide and bright, it doesn’t meet her eyes. Clarisse knows her well enough, now. She can see the exhaustion and irritation lining Silena’s every movement. 

“I have paperwork to handle,” Silena says, her lips pursed. “Are you up for it?” 

“I think I can handle sitting down and watching you write some letters,” Clarisse says with a small smile. 

Silena’s lips twitch — the ghost of a smile — before she leads Clarisse back down the corridor. Clarisse trails behind her, always glad to have Silena in her sights. Yesterday was horrid, and Clarisse isn’t yet ready to remember it, but… but she’s thankful Silena stayed by her side. She would not have been able to focus if she hadn’t been able to look at Silena. 

The princess enters an empty council chamber, the table full of unopened letters and half-finished missives. Quills and ink litter the table. Silena huffs, but dutifully slides into her seat behind her desk. 

While the queen is the one who handles the serious matters, her court handles the day-to-day obstacles of running a kingdom. Clarisse has often heard the princess mumbling about grain silos and clean water in the cities of Cyprus. She never complains about the amount of work she has — only about the challenges it brings her. 

As Silena begins her silent work, quills scratching on parchment, Clarisse sinks into a chair of her own. Her body is still aching and sore; she knows it’s going to take a few more days until she’s back in her prime. She snacks on a bit of ambrosia she keeps on her at all times—it's a war-time food that helps the body heal faster. Too much of it kills you, which is why it's not a common healing solution. Clarisse has had enough of it in her lifetime to know how much she's able to ingest without bursting into flames.

Clarisse can’t help the genuine admiration that builds in her chest when she watches Silena work. The thoughtful, attentive, caring expression she wears when reading through the dullest of reports. The way she takes plenty of time before responding or passing judgment; often staring out the window for minutes before answering. Clarisse knows Silena’s decisions are always carefully thought out, compassionate, and logical. No matter if she’s discussing a stable boy’s thievery charges or a farmer’s crop count, she gives it her full attention. 

She radiates a grace that Clarisse has never witnessed from a leader before. She’s used to the anger of General Ares and the pride of Queen Aphrodite. She’s unfamiliar with a leader who cares so dutifully. It makes her even more assured she made the right choice in swearing herself to Silena. Whatever comes, she will see Silena on the throne. 

After a few hours of mind-numbing silence, Silena finally releases a long breath. She sets down her quill and wipes a hand down her face, smudging a bit of black ink on her temple. Clarisse is tempted to reach out and wipe it away with her own finger, but she knows that’s not appropriate. 

“Come,” Silena says. “I need a drink.” 

“It’s barely mid-afternoon.” 

“So?” 

A smirking Princess Silena leads Clarisse to the study, which is one of the only rooms not entirely wrecked by the attack. The towers of books remain unharmed and unburned, which Clarisse knows Silena is thrilled about. Silena flops onto a sofa unceremoniously and uncorks a bottle of wine that was waiting for her on the table. 

Clarisse sits opposite her, reclining in an uncomfortable armchair. Silena looks exhausted. It’s a deeper exhaustion than that created by mere paperwork. She recognizes the grief lining Silena's face, because grief is something second nature to Clarisse. She can't even remember how many friends she's lost to war; she remembers their faces, though. Their smiles. 

Charles Beckendorf and Lee Fletcher were Silena's friends. And now they're dead. 

Clarisse's heart aches for her princess. She wishes she could take that burden from her; all the pain and grief. She'd take it from Silena, bear it herself, just so the princess didn't have to. If only she could. 

“The meetings this morning went poorly, didn’t they?” Clarisse asks softly. 

“Yes,” Silena answers. She offers no further explanation, instead turning her head to gaze out of the massive arched windows in the study. Beyond the glass, the rolling green hills of Cyprus glitter in the sunlight. It must have rained last night if the dew is still thick enough to make the grass sparkle. 

“Do I need to kill someone for you?” Clarisse asks, desperate to see a smile on her princess’ face. 

Silena sighs, “I wish it were that easy. I’ve spent all morning begging the queen to release Annabeth. I’ve done everything I can to prevent the war from resuming. But Mom… the queen is adamant that Pylos is behind the attacks. She thinks Athena coordinated the attack without even telling her daughter.” 

“What do you think?”

Silena’s fingers tighten around the goblet in her hand; her knuckles are white. Her long fingers are adorned with all sorts of rings, today. Gold rings, silver rings, plain rings with gemstones… Clarisse wonders if her hands ever get tired from the weight. 

“I think it was a coordinated attack on both kingdoms,” Silena whispers. “Someone wants war.” 

“You don’t think it was your mother? Or Athena?” 

“No,” Silena says, shaking her head. “Athena wouldn’t risk her daughter twice. Maybe she could have planned the attack in Pylos, on her own grounds. But here? She wouldn’t risk such chaos without being able to ensure the safety of her daughter. Annabeth is her only heir. She’s not expendable.” 

Like me, is what Silena doesn’t say. Clarisse shivers. Silena may have been formally and legally named the heir to the throne, but if she were to die, Piper could just as easily be given that title. Silena is expendable, at least in her mother’s eyes. Clarisse knows a thing or two about that. 

“And you don’t think it was Aphrodite’s doing?” 

“No,” Silena says. “This attack was too chaotic. If mom was going to stage an attack in her home, I can promise you they wouldn’t have destroyed her nicest things and ruined her biggest party. Mom is ruthless, sure, but she’s too proud. She’d never waste money and finery like that.” 

“Alright,” Clarisse says, rubbing the back of her neck. “If it wasn’t Athena or Aphrodite, who was it? Who wants a war between the two kingdoms?” 

“I don’t know,” Silena says miserably. “It could be a group of rebels from either kingdom. We’ve had trouble with them before. Or it could be forces from beyond Olympia. Beyond our continent.” 

Clarisse has never traveled beyond Olympia. She’s been to Pylos and Cyprus, and she’s spent time on the seas, but she’s never stepped foot on another continent. She knows very little of their politics or leaders. Silena sighs, her shoulders slumping with the exhale. 

“What do you want to do?” Clarisse asks, leaning forward. Though the study is empty, she can’t shake the feeling that they’re being watched. 

“I want peace,” Silena says, rubbing a hand down her face. “To do that, I need Annabeth. Preferably not imprisoned by my mother. Aphrodite isn’t going to budge — she’s not going to release them.”

Silena looks at Clarisse, then, and there is a darkness in her eyes. Mischief, but something more. Something angry. Clarisse has never seen Silena so openly defiant. It’s… attractive. 

“You want to break them out of prison,” Clarisse whispers. 

“I do.” 

“But that’s treason! Not even you could spin it any other way,” Clarisse says. “If you do this, you’ll be a traitor to the kingdom. You will never rule.” 

Silena nods dejectedly. “I know. The throne will pass to Piper.” 

Piper would be a good ruler. Clarisse doesn’t know the younger princess well, but she’s seen strength in the girl. She would do good as the queen of Cyprus. How Aphrodite raised two smart, kind, and compassionate daughters, Clarisse will never know. 

Silena would have to go on the run. If they succeed, and free Annabeth and her people from prison, Silena would have to join them. She’d have to go to Pylos. Even with the return of Annabeth to Athena, war might still be inevitable. Annabeth would have to convince her mother not to retaliate against Aphrodite.

Piper would have to hold her mother at bay. With Silena gone, it would be up to Piper alone to make sure Aphrodite doesn’t wage war. 

“You would risk all of that for people you barely know?” Clarisse asks. “Even if we succeed in getting them out, Sil… the road ahead is not going to be easy.” 

“I know,” Silena says. “But I don’t know what else to do. I can’t take the throne from my mother right now. Ares is here, in the castle, and he’ll never let that happen. I don’t have the support I need, yet. This is the only choice I can make.” 

“Let me do it,” Clarisse says without really thinking it through. “I’ll break them out on my own. I can do it alone. I’ll get them out of here, and your mother will never suspect you. You can stay here and find your allies. Take your throne. Lead our people to peace.” 

Silena’s mouth has fallen open. She shuts it. “I won’t ask that of you, Clarisse.” 

“You don’t have to ask,” Clarisse says, heart racing in her chest. She looks down at her hands, suddenly too embarrassed to look her princess in the eyes. “Let me do this for you, Silena.” 

Silena sits up straight and takes a deep breath. She reaches a hand out to Clarisse, placing it on her arm. The contact alone makes Clarisse feel like she’s floating. Flying. Burning. 

“Don’t get caught, and maybe I won’t have to lose you,” Silena whispers. 

Clarisse smiles at her. “I can do this, Silena. Let me.” 

“Okay,” Silena finally agrees, her breath shaky. 

+++++

The next evening, Clarisse begins her extravagant plan to break her enemies out of prison. 

It should be shocking, the turn her life has taken. She used to be a feared general on the battlefields of an endless war. Now, she’s committing high treason for the princess she has secretly sworn herself to. For some reason, it isn’t that surprising. 

She strolls through the corridors of the castle, forcing a bored frown onto her face. She passes her father’s men and nods cordially at them. Most of the soldiers recognize her, either from experience under her command or from hearing stories about her. She shoulders her way past a few, not bothering to ask for permission. She’s found that if you exude enough confidence, most people won’t question you. One thing about Clarisse La Rue: she can be arrogant when she wants to be. 

She says nothing as she descends the steps into the dungeon. The two guards stationed at the door move out of her way like she’s walking death. One brush against her, and they might die. Clarisse doesn’t bother acknowledging them. 

She walks down the cobblestone aisle, between rows of cells, until she reaches the dark corner where the Pylos royals wait. 

Annabeth is pacing in her cell, hands on her hips. They’ve only been down here for two days, but already, the imprisonment is taking its toll. Annabeth glares at Clarisse as she approaches. Percy, in a cell of his own, slams his palms against the iron bars. 

“What do you want?” Percy snarls. 

“To talk,” Clarisse snaps. “But not to you.” 

She looks at Annabeth, whose grey eyes are narrowed on her. Reyna stands up, brushing her pants off. Luke is in a cell of his own, too, but he stands and leans forward to hear better. 

Clarisse glances over her shoulder. The guards aren’t even paying her any attention. 

“Tomorrow, I will be back to break you out of here,” Clarisse tells Annabeth. “All of you. Midnight. Take this, and be ready.” 

Clarisse carefully slips a bronze knife through the cell bars. Annabeth’s eyes widen, but she takes the blade and hides it in the corset of her dress. Percy’s angry frown slowly disappears as he realizes just what Clarisse said. 

“Why would you help us?” he asks. 

Good question. Clarisse stares at the man who killed her older brother. He’s behind bars, now. It would be so easy to plunge her spear into his chest. She’s hated this kid for years. He’s so infuriating, even if he’s an excellent and respected warrior. She hates him and she admires him. 

Her brother wasn’t a good person. She knows that. Deimos was cruel, and the things he did in battle… well, the world doesn’t miss him. Ares raised him to be death itself. He knew nothing of compassion or kindness or mercy. Clarisse would know; Deimos was never kind to her, either, and they were family. 

Clarisse meets Percy’s gaze, and she decides it’s finally time to let it go. To let this grudge go. Deimos is dead, and she’s actually sort of thankful for that. She does not miss her brother. This hatred she’s harbored for Percy… it’s been something she’s clung to when she had nothing else. But as she looks at him, she realizes it’s not him she hates. 

It’s her father. Ares made Deimos into a monster. Ares made Clarisse into a weapon. Ares is the one that forced his children into war; into the arms of death. 

“Because I am tired of war,” Clarisse says, and the truth feels good. “Be ready. I’ll see you at midnight.” 

Notes:

thank you guys for engaging with this story! every bookmark, comment, and kudos brings a smile to my face. since this is such an out-there AU, I'd love to hear your feedback! what are your thoughts on the setting? the characters?

love u all xoxo

Chapter 10: chapter ten

Summary:

consider Silena a winner in the how-many-times-can-you-describe-her-face olympics

I'm a dark red liver stretched out on the rocks
All the poison, I convert it and I turn it to love
Here comes the feminine urge,
I know it so well
To nurture the wounds
my mother held

"The Feminine Urge" by The Last Dinner Party

+++++

Silena has never been one to sit by and wait for something to happen.

As she watches the seconds tick by on the clock, she tries to steady her breathing. Clarisse left only a few minutes ago to get into position. Though Clarisse has undertaken this whole mission by herself, she was kind enough to fill Silena in on all the details.

Silena picks at her nails as she waits. Outside her window, an owl hoots. The moon is high in the sky, now, and the rest of the world is asleep. Silena can feel the exhaustion tugging at her. She’s tempted to just lie down and go to sleep — to let Clarisse bear the brunt of this evening.

Silena should be with her. How could she send her knight out there to do something like this alone? Silena is a coward.

Silena stands up and starts pacing. If she were to join Clarisse, and something went wrong, Silena would be done. All of her plans would crumble. Her kingdom would most certainly go to war, and she would be even more powerless to stop it.

But Clarisse. She’s out there, alone, risking everything for Silena. This extends beyond their vows as a knight and lady. This is more than just obeying orders. This is devotion unlike Silena has ever known. Silena knows, without a doubt, that she is not worthy of this devotion or care. She does not deserve Clarisse, but she’s thankful for her nonetheless.

The ugly clock on the wall chimes. It’s nearly midnight.

Silena curses, then makes up her mind. If she’s going to commit high treason, she’s going to do it her damn self. She grabs a cloak and wraps it around herself, concealing her face, and marches out of her bedroom.

The hallway already smells of smoke. Good.

Silena sprints down the hall and takes the stairs two at a time. Mercifully, she doesn’t trip and fall on her way down. The smoke is thicker down here. She hides behind a suit of armor as three soldiers dart past, their armor clanking loudly in the silence of the night. 

“Fire! Fire in the kitchens!” 

Silena had suggested Clarisse start the fire there because no one else would be around to get hurt. All the servants would be in bed at this hour, safe from the flames. As a bonus, the kitchen has several doors to the outside world. It’s a prime spot for an “attack” to take place. Ares and his soldiers will rush there without hesitation.

Silena slips through the shadows of her home, aiming for the staircase that will take her to the dungeons. Before she can haul the door open, she feels a hand on her shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” 

She turns to find her sister, Piper, staring at her with wide eyes. Piper is dressed in black clothes, a similar cloak tied around her neck. 

“What are you doing?” Silena responds. 

Piper crosses her arms over her chest, her bottom lip sticking out a little bit. The lantern light splashes across her face, making her kaleidoscope eyes shine even brighter. A knife is strapped to her side. 

Why would Piper sneak into the dungeons? Silena runs through all of the possible reasons in her head. Annabeth is her friend, sure, but they can’t be that close yet. She’s not even sure she’s seen Piper and Luke speak, nor has she spoken with Percy. Silena’s mouth falls open as she remembers Lady Reyna. Piper said the lady saved her life yesterday. More than that, though… Silena has caught the way Piper stares at the woman. 

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” 

A glaring Clarisse appears next to them, her face and hair smudged with soot. Her hair is tied back out of her face, making that lovely scar stand out even more. It’s only been a few minutes since Silena last saw her, but gods, it’s good to see her again. She breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Helping?” Silena says at the same time as Piper says, “What’s going on?” 

Clarisse glances between the two sisters, then over her shoulder down the hall. “I don’t give a fuck why you’re here, actually. But if you don’t want to get us all thrown in prison, I’d suggest returning to your rooms or following me.” 

Clarisse pushes past them, slamming her shoulder into the door that leads to the dungeon. Behind them, the hall gets noisier as more and more soldiers go to investigate the mysterious fire. Silena takes a deep breath and then plunges into the darkness after Clarisse. Piper follows close behind. 

Clarisse leads them down the stairs into the dungeon. She pauses at the bottom of the steps, Silena nearly crashing into her. Clarisse turns and looks up at Silena, and whispers, “Stay here until I knock them out.” 

Silena has no idea what that means. She’s too flustered by the way Clarisse’s hot breath hits her face to think properly. Clarisse draws her sword and steps into the lantern light, leaving the princesses concealed in the shadows. Silena is used to giving orders. She was raised as an heir to the throne — she is used to giving orders. When Clarisse is around, though, Silena enjoys taking orders. She shakes her head, deciding not to think about that too much more. 

After a tense few seconds of clanking armor and the clang of swords clashing, Clarisse says, “Come on.” 

Silena steps down, into the light, to see three guards knocked out and lying on their backs. Clarisse bends over one of them, removing a set of keys from his belt. She says nothing before jogging down the aisle, through the rows of cells. 

“You’re helping them escape,” Piper breathes. Silena jumps; she’d nearly forgotten her sister was here. 

“Yes,” Silena agrees. “You need to go, Piper. You can’t be caught here. What the fuck are you doing here?” 

Piper’s cheeks redden. “I was coming to see Reyna.” 

“Oh my gods,” Silena groans, face-palming. She’s caught between the desire to excitedly gossip with her sister and smack her. Instead, she decides to say, “You are such an idiot.” 

“Says the girl actively committing high treason,” Piper mutters. A smile tugs at her lips. 

Silena pulls her sister into a hug, then, and whispers her secrets. She tells Piper everything. Her friendship with Annabeth, their secret letters, and their plans to overthrow their mothers. Piper tenses under her touch but never pulls away. Silena tells her about the masked assassins in Pylos, and how she suspects outside forces are behind the two attacks. 

“You have to convince Mom not to go to war,” Silena says, pulling away from her sister. Somewhere in the darkness, she can hear Clarisse opening cell doors. “You need to go, Piper. Run back to your room — right now. Don’t give them a reason to suspect you helped me.” 

“No,” Piper says, tears in her eyes. “No, I won’t be your replacement, Silena. Don’t do this. No one has caught us yet, let’s just leave!” 

Silena looks over her shoulder at Clarisse, who is helping Annabeth up off the floor of the dungeon. Clarisse unlocks Percy’s cell next. Then Reyna’s, then Luke’s. 

“I can’t let her do this alone,” Silena whispers. “Go, Piper.” 

“No.” 

Piper pushes past her and jogs over to Reyna. The two women face each other with uncertainty and then embrace. Piper wraps her tanned arms around Reyna’s like this isn’t the first time they’ve shown such intimacy. Annabeth raises an eyebrow, but that’s the only surprise she shows. 

She looks at Silena, and says, “You helped us.” 

“We need to go if we’re going to have any chance of making it out of here alive,” Clarisse growls. She shoves a sword into Percy’s hands. “Silena, you shouldn’t be here.” 

“I know,” Silena agrees. She looks at Annabeth, and says, “Do not let your mother declare war. Remember what I’ve done here for you.” 

Annabeth nods. Percy steps closer to her, placing a hand on her back. Luke and Reyna step in closer, too, as Clarisse tells them exactly how they’re going to escape the castle. She delivers the orders like a general; it’s then that Silena remembers Clarisse has led soldiers into war. As she talks, Silena can feel her breathing steady. Her heartbeat slows to an even, safe pace. Clarisse words not only calm her but inspire her. 

Clarisse La Rue is far more than just a weapon. She is more than rage and violence. She’s an inspiration. She’s a leader. With a pang in her chest, it all clicks in Silena’s head. The wanting. The watching. The desire to be around Clarisse. 

Silena has never fallen in love before, but she’s certainly enjoyed her fair share of pleasure. She knows what it means when the flutters start in her stomach. She recognizes what her body is trying to tell her, even if she doesn’t want to. 

Clarisse hands Reyna a knife, and says, "Let's go.” 

“Clarisse?” 

The knight turns to face her. Silena takes her hand and pulls her away from the group, who are now looting the knocked-out guards and arming themselves. Piper stands to the side, watching with wide eyes. Silena pulls Clarisse into an adjacent hallway, where more empty cells await. The shadows conceal them from the others. 

“Silena, I need to go now if I’m going to get them out,” Clarisse says gruffly, sounding impatient. 

“I know,” Silena breathes. She looks up into Clarisse’s face and almost laughs. How had she not realized it sooner? She’s wanted Clarisse for so long, now. In typical fashion, Silena is too late to do anything about it. 

“My lady?” Clarisse asks, eyebrows raising. 

Silena pushes Clarisse against the stone wall of the dungeon and kisses her. 

She has no idea where the desire came from or why she decides to follow through on it. She has no idea if it’s the fear, the adrenaline, or a mix of both. All Silena knows is she needs to do this, at least once. 

She’s admired Clarisse since the day they met. She’s wanted her since then, too. 

The wanting and desire got even more intense once Clarisse swore herself to Silena. After that, it wasn’t just a physical thing that Silena felt. She noticed everything about Clarisse. Not just her body, but her laugh. The rare, soft side of her. The devotion and passion inside of her. 

Silena kisses her hungrily. Desperately. To her shock and delight, Clarisse kisses her back. Clarisse cups her face gently, softly, and kisses her back. The knight tastes of mint, of smoke. Her lips are soft. Silena lifts a hand to Clarisse’s face, rubbing a thumb across that scar on her cheek. 

Clarisse shudders and pulls back, breathing heavily. “My lady, I—” 

“Clarisse, they’re coming!” 

Annabeth’s panicked shout destroys the bubble around them. Clarisse says nothing else before leaving Silena standing in the shadows, heart pounding. She takes a deep breath, composes herself, and follows. 

Clarisse is standing at the base of the stairs, spear held tightly in hand, as soldiers descend. 

The first two soldiers to step into the dungeon are dead in seconds. Clarisse shoves her spear through one’s chest while Percy kills the second. Blood splatters across Clarisse’s face — across her lips, which were just touching Silena’s only moments ago. 

More footsteps are coming down the stairs. 

“You two need to go, ” Clarisse growls, pointing at Silena and Piper. “Go, Silena!” 

Piper grabs her hand and pulls her away from the group, to a hidden staircase on the other side of the dungeon. As they bolt through the rows of empty cells, the sounds of fighting reach Silena’s ears. 

Clarisse… 

Piper comes to a sudden halt in front of the sealed door. The staircase will take them to the north tower, which is far away from the kitchens. They’ll be able to get to their rooms easily from there. 

“Go, sister,” Piper says. “I’m not coming with you.” 

“What?”

Piper shakes her head, determination lining her face. “I’m not going to let this be traced back to you. You are the future, Silena. You have the training, the expertise, the allies. I have none of that. If Annabeth escapes, Mother will know it’s your doing. Especially after you argued in their favor yesterday. Let me be the scapegoat, sister. I’ll go with them to Pylos. Annabeth will protect me there, I know she will. You must stay here.” 

“Piper, no, it’s too dangerous—” 

Piper places a hand on her cheek and smiles. “You have been protecting me for all our lives, Silena. I’m so thankful for it, you know. You’re the best big sister a girl could ask for. But now I need you to forget about me. I need you to turn your attention to this castle. To our mother. To the war. You can stop it.” 

“Piper,” Silena says, the word like a sob wrenching out of her. “Please don’t go.” 

Don’t leave me alone. 

“I love you.” Piper kisses her cheek. Then she shoves Silena through the door, into the staircase, and locks the door behind her. 

Silena bangs on the door. She screams for Piper. She sobs. No matter what she does, the door doesn’t budge. She can hear fighting on the other side of the door. A shout. Then silence. 

Silena bangs on the door with her fists, but no one answers. She stays that way for some time, tears spilling down her face, until alarm bells begin to sound. Then, and only then, does she pick herself up off the ground. 

She carefully makes her way back to her chambers. She sneaks past guards, ducks behind paintings, and prays to the old gods as she goes. The alarm bells are still sounding when she closes her bedroom door behind her. 

Silena collapses onto her bed, her body wracked by silent sobs. 

Everything went to shit. She was supposed to help Clarisse and flee with her. They’d go on the run together. Escape together. Piper was never supposed to know. She was never supposed to take Silena’s place as the traitor. 

Silena failed. In just one night, she’s lost the two most important women in her life. 

+++++

“The royals from Pylos escaped.” 

Silena hides a yawn behind her hand. She didn’t sleep last night. How could she? The guilt gnawed at her until the early hours of the morning. She spent the hours between midnight and breakfast pacing her room, wondering if her sister and friends made it out alive. 

“And they took Princess Piper captive with them.” 

Silena straightens, her eyes wandering to Queen Aphrodite. Her mother sits upon her throne, dressed in all sorts of finery, and dares to look bored. Aphrodite clenches her jaw at that last statement from Ares, though. 

“How did they manage it, general?” Aphrodite snarls. “How did you think they escaped and took my daughter prisoner?” 

Ares balks, apparently having no answer. Silena has never seen the general so at a loss. It fills her with viscous glee to see him stumbling over his words. 

“They had help,” Aphrodite says, pleased to be the one with a theory. Murmurs and whispers break out across the hall. “My daughter helped them.” 

Silena’s heart plummets into her stomach. She clenches her fists at her side, preparing herself for a fight. If the soldiers come at her, she’ll have to run fast to escape them. Where will she go? She can try to get to the stables and get a horse, but— 

But no one is looking at her. Silena blinks and looks around the room. Everyone is still looking at the queen, who is saying, “Piper helped them escape. She was not taken captive, General Ares. She went with them willingly.” 

“Why would she do such a thing?” asks Lord Dionysus. It’s only noon, but his wine glass has already been refilled three times during the council meeting. 

“For love,” Aphrodite answers. A wicked smile comes to her face. “My daughter has fallen in love, and she has betrayed the kingdom because of it.” 

Silena stirs uncomfortably. 

“You think our princess released four traitorous criminals… for love ?” Lord Dionysus asks. 

Aphrodite spreads her hands, taking no offense at the lord’s tone. The Queen smiles. “The crazy things we do for love, no? Normally, I would applaud such a thing. Love is a wonderful thing. Beautiful. Powerful. But this… this is unfortunate. What is being done to catch the criminals?” 

General Ares beams at that. He steps forward again, and says, “I’ve sent search parties out looking for them. They’ll be recognized wherever they go. It won’t be long before our soldiers catch up with them on the road home.” 

Silena swallows her nerves, forcing herself to remain calm and unbothered. Sweat drips down the back of her neck. 

“Good,” Aphrodite muses, licking her bottom lip. “As for the prisoner? Have you gotten anything useful?” 

Silena jolts and accidentally spills her glass of wine on the table. Servants step forward to mop it up, but several lords and ladies eye Silena with distaste. Prisoner? Silena’s heart is hammering in her chest so loudly it’s a wonder no one can hear it. Who didn’t make it? 

Ares swallows thickly. “No, my queen. She claims was just doing her job and had no prior knowledge of the princess' intentions.” 

Clarisse. 

Clarisse didn’t escape. Clarisse is a prisoner. 

Silena’s breathing turns ragged. She tries to calm herself down, to pay attention, but it’s hard when all she can think about is Clarisse in chains. She did it for Silena. She doesn’t deserve to be a prisoner, to be interrogated— 

“Doing her job ?” Aphrodite scoffs. Then, she looks at Silena. “Her job was to protect my house. My heir. Not to break my prisoners out of jail.” 

“I know, my queen,” Ares says, dipping into a low bow. “My child is stupid. She says Princess Piper asked to be escorted to the dungeons and did not explain what for. Clarisse says she was dragged into this with no other choice. She did it to protect Piper, your family, as she vowed to.” 

Silena bites her tongue to keep from crying. The pain is a welcome distraction. Ares swallows thickly, a vein on the side of his neck sticking out profusely. Is he worried for his daughter? After everything he’s made Clarisse do, now he’s worried about her? 

“Do you believe her, general?” Aphrodite asks. 

Silena recognizes the question for what it is: a trap. If Ares says he believes Clarisse, he will appear weak and biased in front of the Queen and her court. If he says he doesn’t believe her, he deems his daughter a traitor, and Aphrodite will kill Clarisse. 

“My daughter, as I said, is stupid,” Ares grunts. Silena rolls her shoulders and digs her fingernails into her palms. She’s going to kill Ares one day. How dare he say such things about Clarisse? “She is not trained in the art of politics or royalty, my queen. She is a simple girl.” 

Clarisse is far from simple. She’s smart, and strategic, and intellectual. She loves books as much as she loves battle. She— 

Ares is helping her. The realization slams into Silena like a cold wind. Ares is helping his daughter by arguing that she’s a simple-minded, naive brute. She’s too dumb to understand such complex things, your majesty! Silena blinks a few times, her breathing evening out. Why hadn’t she recognized his strategy? She’d gotten so wrapped up in her emotions, in her feelings for Clarisse, that she’d been blind to the one chance she might have to save Clarisse. 

“It’s true,” Silena says, hating herself. She clears her throat as all eyes turn to her. “Clarisse is a warrior, and an impressive one at that. But she has not received any formal training on politics and their intricacies, as Piper has. It is possible that my sister simply coerced her into doing as she was told. We all know the danger of Piper's sweet words.” 

Silena hates herself. Oh gods, she hates herself. Piper would never do that. Clarisse would never do that. Silena is a traitor and a coward, and she ruined everything for her friends—

No. Silena bites her tongue and digs her fingernails into her palms so hard she thinks they might be bleeding. No, Silena Beauregard can be a manipulative bitch when she wants to be — and she knows it. She will not fail again. She will spin her lies in this courtroom. She will deceive them all. She will free her knight.  

“I see,” Aphrodite muses. “What are your thoughts on the matter, daughter?” 

Silena has always recognized the power in her mother’s voice. When Aphrodite makes a suggestion, it is always much more than just that. People do whatever she tells them as if Aphrodite’s words themselves move people into action. Piper has a similar skill. Silena has always tried to study the tactic; to figure out how her mother does it. 

She’s not sure she’ll ever figure it out, but now is as good a time to try out her own charm-filled speech. 

“I have no real feelings on the matter,” Silena says, pushing herself to her feet. She looks at each of the nobles in the room, meeting their gazes. She pushes all of her emotions into her words. All of her fear, anger, and desperation. “Clarisse is not the issue. We must find out who is behind the attacks.” 

Aphrodite blinks once, twice, three times before speaking. If Silena didn’t know better, she’d say her words had affected the queen. Maybe Silena has some power after all. 

“For now, keep the knight alive,” Aphrodite says. “See what else you can get from her, General Ares. I want to know what Piper has planned for the future, and if the brute can tell me that, then she’s still of use to me.” 

“Yes, my queen.” Ares returns to his seat without another word. 

“Now, I think we should discuss strategy against Pylos and Athena,” Aphrodite says, leaning forward eagerly. “I already have armies massing in Paphos. If we march on Athens in the next week, they won’t have enough time to—”

“We should wait,” Silena says. “If the escaped royals make it home safely, they will have information vital to Athena. The queen of Pylos will know everything about our castle, our numbers, and our weaknesses. We should hold off until we find the escapees.” 

Aphrodite narrows her eyes. Moments pass. Silena may have pushed too hard… The silence is tense; no one dares breathe as the two women stare each other down. Then, “You’re right, daughter. We should divert our forces to looking for Piper. In the wrong hands, her knowledge of her home is catastrophic. Ares, send out more search parties. Do not stop until my daughter is found.” 

Oh gods, what has Silena done? You’d better be long gone, Piper. 

But another voice whispers in her mind, one that sounds oddly like Clarisse. You've held off the war for at least another day. 

Across the table, Lord Dionysus looks at her approvingly. He bows his head ever so slightly to her, a smile tugging at his sensual lips. He’s not the only one looking at her with interest, now. Several of the other lords and ladies are eyeing her. Hades, a beautiful man with dark hair and dark eyes, smiles at her. He’s always been a little strange, but Silena likes him well enough. His fascination with death is a little unnerving, though. His wife, Persephone, is much more tolerable. She sits next to her husband, a hand over his, and grins at Silena. 

Hmm. Silena might have just thrust her friends into even more danger, but she’s pretty sure she’s found a few allies, too. 

+++++ 

“You will let me in, or you will lose your jobs.” 

The guards move out of her way. Silena walks past them, once more descending the stairs into the dungeon. It’s only been twelve hours or so since she was last here. She walks through the prison, directed by a few guards, until she reaches a large cell near the back. The lantern light doesn’t quite reach the corner, but Silena doesn’t need it to. She would recognize Clarisse in total darkness.

“Clarisse?” 

The knight turns to face her and Silena gasps. Clarisse’s face is bruised and bloody. Her left eye is blackened, with a few cuts lining her upper cheek. Her lip is split. But she smiles when she sees Silena. 

“Hello, princess.” 

Silena glances over her shoulder at the guards who are standing only feet from her. There’s no way Aphrodite is going to let her walk around alone anymore. While Silena is fairly sure no one suspects her of being a traitor, she has to be careful. She’s gotten careless, recently. She’s gotten lazy. 

“What happened to you?” Silena asks carefully. 

Clarisse raises an eyebrow. “I got caught. We were too slow. It was me or Percy, and I wasn’t going to let him face my father alone. So I doubled back to buy them some time to get away.” 

“Why?” Silena asks, her voice breaking. 

Clarisse looks at the guards purposefully. When she responds, her tone is formal and stiff. “I thought I was doing my duty, princess. It didn’t occur to me to disobey Princess Piper.” 

Silena silently curses, wishing she could send these fucking guards away. She needs to speak with Clarisse alone. She needs to apologize — for a lot of things. Clarisse looks at her through the iron bars of the cell and smiles, as if she can see all of that conflict on Silena’s face. 

“I’m so sorry,” Silena whispers, leaning forward so only Clarisse can hear her. “I don’t what to do. I’ve prolonged the war, but put Piper and Annabeth in more trouble than before, and I don't know how to help you—”

“Stop the war, Sil,” Clarisse whispers just as softly. The guards behind Silena shift uncomfortably. One steps closer to her. “I’ll be okay.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

Clarisse smiles, but the movement cracks her lip open again, and fresh blood dribbles down her face. Clarisse just wipes it away with the back of her hand. Before Silena can say anything else, the guards pull her away. 

She looks at Clarisse one last time before she is forced out of the dungeon.

Notes:

contrary to what i said in the last chapter, i HAD to let them kiss

Chapter 11: chapter eleven

Summary:

Clarisse deals with the consequences of her actions (and thinks about Silena, of course)

fair warning: Ares is extra awful in this chapter.

I don't think badly of you
Well, sometimes I do
It depends on the day
The extent of all my worthless rage

"I'm Not Angry Anymore" by Paramore

+++++

Clarisse grunts in pain when Ares drags her up and off the floor. They’ve been at this for an hour, now, and Clarisse has already fed him all of the lies she’s been able to come up with. She has nothing left. 

“When did Princess Piper approach you about her plans?” Ares asks. 

“The night it happened,” Clarisse answers again. She knows it’s a common tactic; one that her father taught her. Ask the same question over and over again, to make sure the answer never changes. Now that it’s being used on her, though, it feels like a bit much. 

“And why did you do it?” Ares asks again. 

“Because I am loyal to Queen Aphrodite’s house,” Clarisse answers.  

Ares slams his fist into her jaw. She drops to the ground again, her blood splattering the stones. She growls as she rises, her eyes narrowing on her own father. He’s taller than her, stronger, and has decades more experience than her, and yet… and yet in this moment, she feels like she could tear him apart. 

“I’m telling the truth!” Clarisse lies. 

“Don’t pretend with me,” Ares snarls. He points a finger at her, “I convinced the queen you’re an imbecile. She’s considering releasing you, you know. She thinks you’re too thick to understand Piper’s intentions, but I know differently. Why did you do it?” 

Clarisse grins at her father, blood spilling down her face and into her mouth. “Because the princess asked me to.” 

Clarisse should have kissed Silena a little longer that night. She should have held her closer, kissed her again, and told her everything she ever felt for her. She’s never going to get that chance again. 

Ares shouts in irritation and hits her again. This time, she’s prepared for it. She takes the punch on her cheek, but manages to keep her balance. Ares doesn’t even look impressed. 

“Your actions reflect on me, child,” Ares growls. “How dare you jeopardize our standing in court? What made you do it?” 

“All I did was help the princess rendezvous with her lover,” Clarisse growls. “Nothing more.” 

She’d been sneaking Piper and the others out of the castle through the servant’s quarters when they’d stumbled upon two soldiers making out. The soldiers were shocked, maybe even embarrassed. But then they’d recognized the group. The prisoners. Clarisse. 

They’d shouted for help before Clarisse could kill them. Everything had happened so fast. She’d had no choice but to push the royals from Pylos ahead of her. She heard the footsteps, the armor, the shouting. The alarm bells. They were doomed. Percy knew it, too. She could see it in his eyes; the urge to sacrifice himself. 

“Get Piper to safety, or I swear to the old gods and the new I will haunt you from the grave,” Clarisse had told him. Then she’d shoved him into the open air and locked the door behind him. She said a few prayers before drawing her weapons and facing the advancing soldiers.  

She killed them all. There were no witnesses left alive; no survivors. She’d made her way back down to the dungeons, knowing it was where she’d need to be to sell her story. Plus, with all the havoc she was wreaking inside the castle, no one even bothered looking in the servant’s quarters for the escaped prisoners. 

When they’d found her on the floor of the dungeon, surrounded by dead guards, they’d instinctively thrown into the very cell she’d freed Percy from. 

Ares kicks her knee out from under her, drawing her from her memories, and she hits the ground with a thwack! She curses loudly as the pain of the impact laces through her knees and up into her back. 

“You didn’t just escort the princess to hook up with a prisoner,” Ares growls, his face inches from her own. “You freed the prisoners and got them out of the castle. I don’t know how you did it and ended back up here, but—” 

“I couldn’t have,” Clarisse rasps. “They found me in the dungeons, right where Piper left me. She knocked me out and freed them all on her own. All I did was bring her here.” 

“Liar,” Ares growls. She looks up into his dark eyes — eyes so like her own — and shivers. “And I suppose the young princess also massacred all of my men on her way out?”

“My money would be on Percy, personally,” Clarisse responds. The sarcasm only earns her another punch. She takes it without flinching. 

“Fine,” Ares says. “If you expect me to believe you did nothing more than bring her down here, and she did all the rest, explain to me how a skinny princess half your size managed to knock you out. I trained you better than that.” 

Clarisse shrugs. “I was distracted, I guess.” 

She’s still on her knees when Ares slams his knee into her face. She can’t bite back the groan of pain. She falls to the ground, more blood leaking from her nose. She can feel the scrapes and cuts on her face beginning to crack open. They’d just scabbed over after yesterday’s interrogation with her father. 

Clarisse glares up at the man and allows years’ worth of hate to fill her face. She spits blood out onto the floor and pushes herself to her feet. Her wrists are still shackled, but if he tries to hit her again, she’s going to fight back. She’s going to knock him on his ass. She’s going to—

He hits her again and she sails to the left. Her vision swims before her. This time, she doesn’t get back up. She lies on the cobblestones and waits. And remembers. 

“Get up, child. No matter how many times you get knocked down, you must always get back up.” 

Twelve-year-old Clarisse stifles a sob as she pushes herself back up off the ground. Her nose is broken, for sure, which is a pity because it had just started to feel better after the last time her dad broke it in training. 

Clarisse bends her knees and waits for her father to attack. Instead of using weapons today, Ares is training her in hand-to-hand combat. So far, that just means he gets to punch and shove her around without giving her any real instruction. 

“What did I say?” he growls. 

“An honorable soldier always gets back up,” Clarisse mumbles, tasting her own blood on her lips. 

“I don’t care if you’re an honorable soldier, child,” Ares tuts. “I only care that you are mine. My child will bring glory to my name. Do you think your brother is honorable out on those battlefields?” 

“No, but—” 

Ares hits her again. Clarisse doesn’t cry, though she longs to. Every part of her hurts. She doesn’t know why her father insists on causing her so much pain. She’s sure she’d be able to learn these things without getting a broken nose. The last time she cried in front of her father, she was eight. She learned her lesson that day and hasn’t done it since. 

“You belong to me,” Ares growls. “You will destroy armies and level cities one day, child. Just like me, just like your mother, just like your brother.” 

“I don’t want to do that,” Clarisse whispers. 

Ares’ rage ignited in seconds. Clarisse saw it coming. She saw his eyes narrow and darken. His jaw clench. His eyebrows crease. She knew the punch was coming before Ares did, probably. She could have dodged it; she could have blocked it. But she lets it land, instead. She wants her father to see what his rage looks like. 

“You are a pathetic excuse for my child,” Ares mutters. “You used to be great. Mighty. Fearsome. What has softened you?” 

Clarisse blinks a few times, trying to rid herself of the childhood memory. Ares has never once cared for the well-being of his children — only for their ambition and potential. He forced Deimos to war, and Deimos died. He forced Clarisse to war, and Clarisse conquered. She found a home on the battlefields. But that wasn’t enough for her father. He forced her into knighthood, next. It’s not her fault she loves her job so much. 

“What about me is soft? I am exactly what you made me, father. I am nothing more than a weapon.” 

Ares curses and stomps around the cell, muttering to himself. Clarisse tunes it out, instead focusing on the stone floor. She can do this. She can keep this up. She will keep Silena’s secrets safe. 

There was a time when she wanted nothing more than to please her father. That’s why she became a knight in the first place. That’s why she accepted this position in the castle. She did it all for Ares. To win him honor, glory, and respect. She wanted it all. 

Besides, what else was there to do? She is a woman — power is not something that comes easily. Clarisse would never be able to marry into power. She needed to take it herself. So she obeyed. She trained. And she conquered. 

Now, though… now she dreams of another life. Another ruler, another queen. If she can get Silena on the throne, Clarisse’s siblings will not have to follow their father to war. Frank and Sherman, her little brothers, could live a real life free of murder and violence. It might be too late for her, but not for them. 

As Clarisse lies on the floor, her father raging above her, she thinks of Silena. 

Silena kissed her a few days ago. Clarisse had been so shocked she’d nearly forgotten to breathe. She couldn’t help herself, in that moment; she’d kissed Silena back. She’d needed to. She’d wanted to. Something had been unlocked inside of Clarisse in those few moments. Sure, she’d thought about Silena in… less-than-professional ways, before. She’s always found Silena to be beautiful. She’s always noticed Silena first in a room full of people. It’s funny that Aphrodite is considered the most beautiful woman in the world when Silena exists. There’s really no competition. 

But Clarisse never thought… she’d never allowed herself to think of anything beyond Silena’s beauty. Clarisse is just her knight; it would be pathetic to fall for the person she was supposed to protect. Love is embarrassing; it’s a weakness. Love gets you killed. 

And yet, despite knowing all of that, Clarisse wants to kiss her again. 

“Are you a spy, Clarisse?” Ares asks, pulling her up into a kneeling position. The sudden movement makes her dizzy. She has to blink a few times before her father’s face comes back into focus. 

“No,” she answers. 

“That boy killed your brother.” 

Clarisse winces. She knew this was coming. Ares loved Deimos in a way he’s never loved the rest of his children. When Perseus killed Deimos years ago, Ares swore to avenge his son. He swore Percy would die by his hand, or by the hand of his surviving children. At the time, Clarisse embraced it. She sought Percy out on the battlefields, as did Ares. 

If Percy had been the one to get caught, instead of her, Clarisse knows he’d be dead by now. He would have been tortured within an inch of his life by Ares. And then he would have died, slowly and painfully. That’s another reason Clarisse had to be the one to stay behind; she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if Ares got what he wanted. 

“You have other children,” Clarisse growls, meeting her father’s gaze. “Deimos died years ago, Dad. You have to let him go and realize you’re going to lose all of your children if you don’t.” 

“I will have justice,” Ares says. 

She says nothing else, and neither does her father. He leaves minutes later, promising to return tomorrow. Once the iron bars slam behind him, Clarisse lets out a string of inventive curses. She crawls across the bloodied floor to the corner, where she manages to prop herself up against the wall. 

She doesn’t bother wiping the blood from her face. Let it dry, let it bruise, let it scar. She will force her father to look at what he’s done to her. 

+++++

The days start to blend after that. Ares comes in the mornings, always asking if she has any new information she’d care to share. He tosses her around a bit; hits her. Then he leaves, and Clarisse is done for the day. Guards bring her a meal around noon. It’s usually just stale bread and dried fruits, but she gobbles it up nonetheless. She’d kill for a bit of protein. 

When the sun sets, casting the dungeon into darkness, the guards’ rotation changes. Instead of standing inside the dungeon, they stand outside of it and guard the doors. Though it’s certainly not meant to, it gives Clarisse the semblance of privacy. 

Tonight, she sleeps on her side, eyes on the door of the dungeon. She takes a deep breath and thinks of the princess who slumbers hundreds of feet above her. Picturing Silena’s face brings her a bit of comfort. 

“Clarisse?” 

She cracks open a swollen eye to see Silena kneeling before her. Oh, have the gods blessed her with a good dream finally? Clarisse smiles at the princess, determined to enjoy as much of this dream as she can. Though, if this is a dream, why does her body hurt? Why are there iron bars separating her from Silena? 

Clarisse crawls across the floor to her, not caring how pathetic that may seem. She slumps against the bars, and Silena’s hands are instantly on her face. 

“What happened to you?” 

Silena’s soft hands touch her face, her split lip, the gash on her forehead. The bruises around her eye. The tender gash on the bridge of her nose. Clarisse lets out a content sigh and breathes in the smell of Silena’s citrus perfume. 

“Are you okay?” 

Clarisse nods, allowing her eyes to shut. If this is a dream, so be it. She’s going to enjoy the feeling of Silena’s hands on her. She’d be lying if she said she hasn’t dreamt of the princess every night since her imprisonment. Last night, she dreamt that she and Silena were horseback riding on the beach. It was simple. It was perfect. 

“I need you to look at me, darling.” 

I need you. Clarisse opens her eyes and looks at Silena. Darling. The word sends a thrill right through her. The princess smiles at her, and it chases away a bit of the pain. Silena reaches a hand through the bars and cups Clarisse’s cheek; Clarisse leans into her touch. She kisses the inside of the princess’ palm. 

“Clarisse.” 

“Princess.”

It’s the first word she’s said all day, Clarisse realizes. Her voice is hoarse and broken. She doesn’t even sound like herself anymore. When did the guards last bring her water? She doesn’t remember. 

“Who did this to you?” 

“Ares,” Clarisse mumbles, unable to look at anything but Silena’s face. 

“I’m going to kill him.” 

Clarisse huffs out a little laugh, and even though it hurts, it’s nice to laugh. She levels her gaze on Silena, and says, “Don’t do anything to provoke him. I can handle this.” 

“Not for much longer, you can’t,” Silena snaps. “I’m going to get you out of here. I think I can convince the court to pardon you.” 

“By convincing them I’m an imbecile, right?” Silena’s gaze softens, regret shining in her eyes. But Clarisse just nods and smiles, “It’s a good plan. But don’t do anything too risky. If things are cooling off for you… do not jeopardize that.” 

“You don’t give me orders,” Silena says, but she’s smiling. 

“Don’t I?” Clarisse quips. 

Silena sits down on the other side of the bars and leans against them, her face right next to Clarisse’s. If these bars weren’t separating them, Clarisse isn’t sure she’d be able to keep her mouth away from Silena. Even with them here, she can’t help herself from leaning closer to the princess. Her body moves of its own accord, as if Silena is the sun and Clarisse is trapped in orbit. 

It’s always been like that, Clarisse realizes. Sure, her job is to follow Silena around and watch her back. But ever since the beginning, there has been an invisible pull on Clarisse. Even when she wanted to, she could never stay away from Silena. 

“How did you get in here?” Clarisse asks. 

“I have my ways.” 

Silena reaches through the bars and runs her hands through Clarisse’s hair. Her curly hair has turned into a dirty mat in the time she’s been kept in this cell. Clarisse has been too tired, too hurt, to keep it from tangling. Silena combs her fingers through the worst tangles. She massages Clarisse’s head, and it takes all of Clarisse’s willpower not to whimper. 

She hasn’t been touched in so long. Not even in a sexual way; just in a human way. Clarisse spends all of her time in armor with gloves on. No one touches her. She’s missed the casual intimacy of skin-on-skin. 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Silena says again, this time sounding even more determined. 

“Good,” Clarisse says, too tired to argue. “Someone has to watch your back. There are traitors about.”

Silena laughs, and it feels like sunshine. The moon is out and pain laces every one of Clarisse’s breaths, but it feels like sunshine to hear Silena laugh. Clarisse is sure, in this moment, that she would do anything to hear Silena laugh. It’s a harrowing thought; one that doesn’t sit comfortably with her. 

This pull, this wanting… it’s dangerous. Silena is a princess. She’s a manipulator. She’s a traitor. Clarisse knows all of these things; she could spend hours listing all of the reasons she should not want Silena. It doesn’t stop the feelings, though. 

“I have to go before someone comes to check on me,” Silena whispers. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

Clarisse nods, embarrassingly upset when Silena removes her hands from Clarisse’s hair. The princess stands up and smooths out the cloak she’s wearing to conceal her face. 

“Don’t I get a kiss for luck?” Clarisse asks from the floor. “Kind of a tradition, right?” 

Silena’s cheeks flush as she gazes down at Clarisse. “I’m not sure the first one brought good luck.” 

“I’m willing to try it again if you are.” 

Silena laughs again, soft and breathy. “Come back to me in one piece, La Rue, and we’ll see.”

+++++

Ares returns the following morning with a sneer on his face. Clarisse has managed to clean herself up a bit since then, but she knows her father’s anger still shows on her bloodied face. He winces when he looks at the aftermath of his rage. 

Good. She hopes he never forgets the image. 

He sets a tray of food down in front of her. Instead of the normal stale bread, this plate is filled with fruits, sausages, and hot bread. Clarisse wishes she had the strength to shove it in his face. Instead, she scoots across the floor and immediately begins to stuff her face. Three sausages, two fried eggs, an apple, an orange, and a hot roll. Good gods, Clarisse has never been so hungry. She snatches the roll from the silver platter and nearly drops it when she sees the flower underneath it. 

It's just a flower. 

It's not from her. It can't be. 

Sitting in the center of the tray is a dahlia. Clarisse is no expert on flowers, but she knows this one. This is Princess Silena's favorite flower; she'd said so, all those days ago in the garden. Clarisse gingerly picks up the flower, turning it carefully in the light. It's definitely a dahlia. 

But what does it mean? 

It could mean nothing, of course. These flowers are common enough in the garden. It's possible someone just decided to spruce up the breakfast plate with a bit of decoration and grabbed any flower they saw. 

But Clarisse doesn't think so. It can't be a coincidence. This has to be from Silena. 

“We march on Pylos tomorrow.” 

Ares' voice snaps Clarisse right out of her thoughts. She jerks her head up, looking at her father. 

“What?” 

That is not what she was expecting to hear. She racks her brain, trying to remember how long she’s been in prison. Two days? Three? How long has she been here? What has she missed? 

“The queen is eager for justice,” Ares says, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You will join me on the battlefield.” 

“I will not.” 

Ares freezes, his dark eyes narrowing on Clarisse. She hates that they have the same eyes. His are dark brown, as hers are. She has his face, his bone structure. Worse than that, she also inherited his rage. 

Clarisse has often wondered about her mother. She was a captain, that much Clarisse knows. She caught Ares’ attention because of her dedication to her soldiers. She never left a man behind. She was a good soldier; a good leader. That’s all Clarisse knows, though. Her mother died in battle a few weeks after having Clarisse. It was a good death, Ares assured her many times in childhood. Clarisse only knows her name — Carlotta. 

Clarisse can only hope she inherited something good from her mother. Clarisse can’t bear being the product of only her father. She needs something good to balance out Ares’ rage and violence. She desperately needs there to be something good inside of her. 

“You will once more be my lieutenant,” Ares snaps. “Do you really think Silena would take you back now? You have brought shame to her house. Aphrodite has pardoned you, but you will never again serve her house.” 

No. 

Clarisse clenches her jaws and tries to hold back the tears. She’d finally been given something good in life with her position in the castle. Serving as Silena’s knight had been strange at first, sure. Clarisse had scoffed and moped around, embarrassed to be nothing more than the princess’ shadow. But then she’d realized Silena is so much more than just some daughter of Aphrodite. She’s brave. A traitor. A leader. She’s compassionate, kind, funny, and good.

Clarisse belongs to Silena. She swore herself to the princess — to be her hands, her ears, her knife, her shield. And she’s done that. By taking the fall for Silena, for landing herself in prison, she has completed her task. She’s served her purpose. 

Maybe that is all she was meant to be. Perhaps Silena was wrong, and Clarisse really is just a weapon. A means to an end. She served her purpose. She saved Silena. 

Clarisse pushes to her feet and nods to her father. 

She’d wanted more from this life. But if she can continue to protect Silena by going to the battlefields, she will. 

+++++

“Ares!”

Clarisse freezes as she hears the familiar voice. She glances at her father, who is currently leading her out of the castle. They stand at the entrance to the grand palace. All of Clarisse’s meager belongings are in a bag tossed over her shoulder. 

Ares grits his teeth and turns, dipping into a bow. Clarisse does the same. She doesn’t dare look up at Silena; her father will see the weakness all over her face. 

“You’re leaving in such a hurry,” Silena says, her voice conversational and light. 

“Yes, princess,” Ares says. “I have a war to prepare for.” 

Silena’s smile tightens, anger flickering to life in those blue eyes of hers. Clarisse tries to keep from swooning. 

“We’ll see,” is all Silena says in response. She turns her gaze to Clarisse, “Why haven’t you returned to your post?” 

Clarisse’s mouth falls open. She looks to her father, who is fuming. Ares clears his throat and places his big, scarred hand on Clarisse’s shoulder. The gesture is anything but kind or comforting. It feels more like being chained up. 

“My daughter is coming with me,” Ares says. “She will no longer be a stain on your house, princess, I swear it. She will regain her honor in battle or she will die trying.”

Silena’s smile turns feline. Again, Clarisse has to take a few deep breaths to keep herself from swooning or smirking. She knows Silena well, now. Better than Ares — that’s for sure. How does no one see the silent, steely strength in this princess? Can’t they see her rage, her ferocity? Clarisse can, and she’s sure it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“Clarisse has not been dismissed from her position as my knight,” Silena says. “And she won’t be. While she certainly… made mistakes, my mother and I agree that my safety is of the utmost importance while this war commences. I have the power to select my own guard, General Ares, and I want your daughter on it.” 

“You want… her ?” 

“I do,” Silena snaps. “She has saved my life several times. From now on, she goes where I go.” 

Clarisse tries to keep her breathing steady. Ares’ hand is still on her shoulder; he’s still too close to her. He’ll notice if she looks too happy, too relieved. Clarisse purposefully keeps her lips in a tight line.

Ares directs his attention to Clarisse, then. She stands her ground. She doesn’t show fear. She just looks at her father and says nothing. He looks away first, saying, “Fine.” 

Clarisse exhales slowly, finally allowing herself to look at Silena — who is already looking at her. Silena’s lips twitch upwards, almost a smile; it’s the only emotion she shows in front of Ares. Silena turns around and walks back down the hall. She moves slowly, clearly intending for Clarisse to follow. 

“Good luck,” is all Clarisse says to her father before following her princess.

Notes:

yes, i DID reference the famous Percabeth scene with the 'kiss for luck' bit. sue me!

Chapter 12: chapter twelve

Summary:

a reunion and a bit of angst

this chapter is significantly shorter than the others, but I feel like it needed to stand on it's own. enjoy!

What a thing to admit
That when someone looks at me with real love
I don't like it very much

"Girls Against God" by Florence + The Machine

+++++

Silena walks away from Ares without looking back. She can hear Clarisse following her, and though she’s desperate to speak to her knight, she doesn’t say a word until they reach her quarters. Silena has been working overtime the last three days to make sure her mother released Clarisse. Aphrodite finally agreed when Silena, once again, brought up the two attacks. Silena only survived because of her knight. It was enough to make Aphrodite overlook the incident. 

In the last three days, Cyprus has begun mobilizing its armies. Aphrodite has officially declared war on Pylos — on Athena. Silena has heard nothing from her friends or her sister. That means they’re still on the road somewhere, dodging all of the search parties out looking for them. Or they’re dead. 

She has no idea how to stop the war. She has no idea what it’s going to take. Right now, she’s just trying to take it day by day. She solves the problems she can solve, like getting Clarisse out of prison. So far, no one has looked at her suspiciously since that night. They all truly believe it was Piper’s choice to set them free and go on the run. No one has bothered asking Silena what she thinks — which is a very, very good thing for Silena. 

Silena holds the door open for Clarisse, who is still silent. The two guards posted in the hall say nothing to her as she closes the heavy wooden door. 

Clarisse stands in the middle of her quarters, bloody and bruised, and just looks at Silena. 

Her face is a mess. Her eye is still bruised, though the swelling seems to have gone down quite a bit over the last few days. The cuts and scrapes have scabbed over. Her lip is still split and swollen. 

“Do you need me to send for a healer?” Silena asks. 

“No,” Clarisse responds with a slight shake of her head. One of those lovely black curls falls into her face. “Thank you. My lady, I—” 

She takes a step forward, hands outstretched, then seems to think better of it. She drops her hands to her side. Silena’s heart lurches in her chest. She takes a step toward Clarisse. Then another. 

Behind the knight, the window glows with the golden light of the setting sun. Clarisse swallows thickly as Silena approaches her. Those dark eyes of hers are wide and trained wholly on Silena. 

“What you did for me,” Silena begins, her voice heavy, “is something I can never repay you for. You let them all think you were some idiot, easily convinced. You kept my secrets safe. Why? You could have turned me in, kept your position, and blamed it all on me. Ares wouldn’t have… he wouldn't have hurt you if you’d told the truth.” 

Clarisse’s eyes soften. She’s so close, now. Only a foot of space between them. 

“Did you think I would?” 

“No,” Silena answers honestly. She’d never once thought Clarisse would betray her. “What I can’t figure out is why, Clarisse. Why would you risk it all?” Why would you risk it all for me?  

“You must know by now,” Clarisse says, her cheeks reddening. “I'm yours. I swore myself to you, Silena. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. I am yours to do with as you please. If that means taking a few punches from my father, so be it. It’s worth it.” Clarisse doesn’t stop there, though. She whispers, “You can order me to my death, and I will go.” 

Silena’s heart lurches in her chest. She can’t want this; she can’t want Clarisse. She has a kingdom to worry about. She has a war to end. Her duty must always be to Cyprus, first. Clarisse might pick Silena first above everything else, but Silena will always have to pick her duties. 

“I can order you to your death,” Silena repeats, her voice barely a whisper. 

“And I would go,” Clarisse agrees. “I swore myself to you, Silena. That is not a choice I made lightly.” 

“You swore yourself to me, but I did to you, too,” Silena says. “I put you in harm’s way that night, though I vowed not to. Please forgive me.” 

“There is nothing to forgive.” 

As a princess, Silena is used to people getting hurt in order to protect her. All of the soldiers and guards in this damn palace would throw themselves in front of a sword to keep her safe. They wouldn’t think twice about it, and normally, Silena wouldn’t either. She takes no pleasure in their sacrifice — in fact, she’s cried over every single person who’s died for her. Silena knows it’s normal for people to sacrifice themselves for their rulers. If they want a better world, they have to make sure the right ruler stays alive. She’s honored to have the love of her people and soldiers. But… but Clarisse… 

The care Silena has for Clarisse is not normal. It’s not the kind of care a ruler has for their subjects. It’s personal, intimate, and overwhelming. And Silena knows she can never follow through on it, no matter how badly she wants to. 

“What happened between us in the dungeons,” Silena whispers, “It can’t happen again. You understand that, don’t you?” 

Clarisse nods, though Silena catches the brief look of hurt that crosses her face. “I do, princess.” 

Silena nods. She can’t seem to get her feet to move, though. Clarisse continues gazing at her, all softness. How could anyone look at her and think her merely a brute? An imbecile? 

“I had to tell horrible lies to see you freed,” Silena whispers. “I convinced all of them that you’re a brute. Nothing more than a body with a sword.” 

She’s spent days weaving lies. Whispering sweet nothings in the ears of Aphrodite’s court. Bringing up Clarisse only to ponder over her intelligence. It was horrible, sickening work. Silena couldn’t sleep most nights, knowing that her favorite person in the world was lying in a dungeon. 

“I need you to know that I don’t believe a word I said,” Silena says. “I think you're incredible. Smart. Loyal. I do not think you an idiot, but I had to free you somehow. I am good at lying, Clarisse. I am good at making people believe what I want them to.” 

“You think I do not know that already?” Clarisse asks with a smirk. “You forget that I have been your shadow for months, now. I know the difference in your smiles, laughs, and expressions. I know you.” 

Silena startles, taking half a step away from her knight. Not even Silena knows the difference between all of her many masks. 

“What do you mean?” she asks, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks. Clarisse raises a single eyebrow. 

“When you want the nobles of the court to listen to you, you smile without your teeth,” Clarisse says, as if reciting from a book. “When you want the soldiers in the hallways to let you pass without questions, you raise your shoulders ever so slightly and you laugh. Not your real laugh, but that higher one. The giggle.” 

Silena stares at her, open-mouthed. She knew Clarisse observed her, obviously. It’s hard to protect something you don’t pay attention to. But this… 

“Sorry,” Clarisse says, her cheeks reddening even more. “That all sounds rather strange now that I think about it." 

“I...I didn’t know all of that,” Silena murmurs, shaking her head. “It’s strange to hear it said like that. Stranger still that you notice it all.” 

Clarisse shrugs, “We spend quite a lot of time together, you and I. It’s only natural to pick up on tells and body language after so long. I just— I know you. I know who you are, and you aren't a manipulative bitch. That's just the mask you wear."

Silena thinks about that for a moment. The mask she wears. The confident, flirty princess who manipulates people to get what she wants. Flirting with couriers just to get them to deliver secret messages; batting her eyelashes at men to make them her allies; spreading rumors around the court to save the person she lo— she cares about. Is it just a mask? Or is it who she is, deep down?

She'd like to think she's not as terrible as that. She'd like to think there's a genuine, kind bone in her body. Clarisse might believe she's more than just a traitor, but Silena has never been hopeful enough to believe the same. 

Does she know Clarisse as well as Clarisse knows her? She knows that Clarisse prefers to eat a large breakfast rather than a hearty lunch. She knows Clarisse hates hot tea, but enjoys that nasty black coffee that the soldiers brew. Clarisse prefers to read epics and comedies rather than love stories. She tends to talk out of the right side of her mouth rather than the center. She throws her head back when she laughs. She— 

Silena does know an awful lot about her. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Silena mutters, somewhat shocked. 

Clarisse grins triumphantly. The smile cracks open her lips again, the damned fool. Silena huffs and reaches her hand out without thinking, wiping the small bead of blood from her lip. Clarisse goes entirely still under Silena’s touch. Silena swallows heavily as she wipes her thumb across Clarisse’s bottom lip. 

She pulls her hand away quickly. What were they talking about only a moment ago? She doesn’t remember. Why is she standing so close to Clarisse? She takes another step back, her leg bumping into the dining table. Silena clears her throat loudly and awkwardly before glancing at Clarisse. 

Clarisse’s cheeks are bright red, but her eyes are trained on the ground, her hands clasped behind her back. 

Dear gods, Silena wants her. She has to clasp her hands together behind her back just to keep from reaching out and dragging Clarisse to her. Perhaps that’s what Clarisse has done, too. 

She still remembers the feeling of Clarisse’s lips on her own. She remembers the way she tastes — like mint and smoke. Clarisse’s hands had been on her face, cupping her cheeks, pulling her closer… 

Silena locks eyes with Clarisse and her breath catches. Why had she said it couldn’t happen again? There had been a reason, she’s sure of it. Only now she can’t remember it. 

She takes a step forward and Clarisse’s grin fades. The knight takes a step back. “You should rest, my lady.” 

Gods damn it, why does she have to be so noble all the time? Silena takes a few deep breaths, willing her heart to stop racing. Clarisse is right. Clarisse is doing the very thing Silena asked her to. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?” Silena asks. 

Clarisse eyes her suspiciously, but nods. “Always. I go where you go.” 

Silena turns on her heel before she can do anything reckless and steps into the bathroom. She can hear Clarisse splashing herself with water while Silena changes out of her damned dress. The thing is heavy and laced up tightly. Rachel is usually the one to help her out of monstrosities like this, but Silena sent Rachel home early today. With all of the chaos and commotion in the castle, she’d let Rachel go home for her family for a few days.  

“I’m going to need your help,” Silena grumbles. 

“With… what?” Clarisse calls through the closed door. 

“The damn dress,” Silena says. “I hate these things sometimes.” 

Clarisse chuckles. “May I come in, my lady?” 

Silena steels herself, dousing any of those remaining flames in her chest. She can do this. She is a grown woman, for fuck’s sake. She can keep her hands to herself. She can tame her desires. 

“You may.” 

Clarisse slowly opens the bathroom door. She’s already changed and cleaned up her face. Her hair, to Silena’s astonishment, is pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head. Silena has never seen her with her hair out of a braid, except for that one time in the dungeon. 

She swallows and turns around, baring her back to Clarisse. The knight steps forward, her hands almost shaking when she raises them to the lacing of the dress. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Clarisse murmurs, sounding oddly vulnerable. 

Silena hides a smile, and says, “Think of the lacing as a complicated plait. Just follow the strings until they’re undone.” 

Clarisse says nothing else before unlacing the dress. It takes time to work through the lacing. Rachel is an expert at it after so many years. It never takes her more than a few minutes, at most. But Clarisse moves through it clumsily, often cursing quietly. Her fingers never once brush Silena’s skin; she must be purposefully trying not to. 

“There. Done.” 

Silena presses the fabric to her skin to keep it from falling off of her frame. When she turns around, Clarisse’s eyes are dutifully on the ceiling. Silena still notices the blush, though. 

“Thank you.” 

Clarisse turns and nearly sprints out of the bathroom, which only makes Silena’s smile grow wider. How the fuck is she supposed to do this? Even simple interactions with Clarisse are charged, now. She can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the knight. 

Silena lets the heavy dress flop to the ground once she’s alone. She tugs on a night dress, pulls all of the pins out of her hair, and wipes the makeup from her face before leaving the bathroom. As she does— swinging her hips a little too dramatically, honestly — she hears a loud thump. 

Clarisse is sitting at a desk, washing her face. Except as soon as she caught sight of Silena, she’d jolted and thumped her leg against the underside of the desk. Silena may be dressed in a very short, very thin pink nightgown. 

“What… what are you wearing?” Clarisse says, eyes wide. 

Silena slips under the covers and stretches, adoring the way Clarisse’s eyes track her every movement. “A nightgown, of course.” 

Clarisse’s nostrils flare. “It’s awfully short.” 

“Since when are you a fashion critic?” Silena asks, hiding her grin under the covers of her bed.

Clarisse says nothing else, only looks at her in alarm. Silena pats the empty side of her bed with a smirk. “Aren’t you tired?” 

Clarisse swallows. She purses her lips. Glances at the other room, where her cot is. Glances back at Silena’s bed. 

“People will be very curious as to why your imbecile knight is sharing your bed,” Clarisse says warningly. “It’s not a good idea.” 

“Probably not,” Silena agrees, burrowing further into her pillow. “But after several attacks and attempts on my life, I’d sleep much better knowing you’re right next to me.” 

“Makes sense,” Clarisse says, though it really doesn’t. Even Silena knows she’s grasping at straws for a reason for Clarisse to stay near her. It’s true, though. If someone were to attack the castle again, Silena wants to know that Clarisse is near. Not only for her own protection, but so she can be sure Clarisse is still alive and breathing.

“So you’ll stay?” 

“For tonight, at least,” Clarisse agrees, nodding decidedly. “But not tomorrow if you don’t put some clothing on.” 

“I’ll see what I have,” Silena hums with a smile. 

Clarisse snorts. As Silena closes her eyes and allows the exhaustion to overtake her, she’s very aware of her knight splashing ice-cold water all over her face. Silena falls asleep with a smile on her face. 

+++++

The kingdom is on fire. People are screaming and bleeding, begging the gods to have mercy on them. It smells of blood; of death. Black smoke billows into the sky, blotting out the sunshine. Birds crash to the ground, choking to death on the smoke. 

Children collapse in the streets, blood flowing from their eyes and mouths. Screaming. So much screaming. Silena stands in the streets of her city as tears flow down her face. Her castle, her come, burns before her. 

“What have I done?” Silena murmurs. 

Silena thrashes as she wakes up. She sobs, the smell of smoke still in her nostrils. What has she done? What has she done? She’s a traitor. Someone is in her bed, someone is touching her, someone is trying to— 

“Silena, wake up. It’s me.” 

That low, hoarse voice. A familiar voice. 

Silena opens her eyes, blinking away the tears, and sees Clarisse leaning over her. The bed is warm and soft beneath her. Clarisse looks worried, her eyes wide and hands trembling above Silena. She’s propped up on her elbow, because oh yeah, she’d been sleeping next to Silena. 

“Sorry,” Silena breathes the word out like a sigh. 

“Do not apologize,” Clarisse says, her voice stern. Silena reminds herself that now is not the time to get turned on. “Are you okay?” 

“I get bad nightmares sometimes,” Silena mutters. “Always have. They tend to lead to this. To these… panic attacks.” 

“What did you dream about?” Clarisse says, brushing Silena’s hair out of her face. Clarisse’s touch is so soft, so gentle, that it nearly brings tears to Silena’s eyes. Oh, this had been a terrible idea. Clarisse is right here, offering comfort, and it takes all of Silena’s willpower not to curl into her. 

“The future, if my mother gets what she wants,” Silena says. “I can’t… I can’t handle this much longer, Clarisse. I don’t know what to do.” 

Clarisse lowers herself back to the bed, purposefully leaving two feet between them. Silena instantly misses the warmth of Clarisse’s hands on her. 

“We’ll figure it out. Together.” 

Together. 

+++++

Clarisse is gone when Silena wakes. Her side of the bed is still warm, so she can’t be far away. Silena closes her eyes for a moment, knowing she should get up. Someone will be here with breakfast soon. The council meetings will start soon after that. She needs to be up, dressed, and ready as soon as possible. 

But she lies there for a moment, breathing in the smell of Clarisse’s cologne on her pillow. 

When she gets up, she pads around her quarters. Breakfast is waiting on the dining table, and there Clarisse is, loading a plate up with bacon and potatoes. She smiles nervously at Silena. 

“Will you please see a healer today?” Silena asks, eyeing the darkening bruises around her eye. 

“It’s that bad, huh?” Clarisse asks, an amused smile playing on her lips. “Sure, princess. I’ll speak with Will today. Where can I find you after that?” 

“Here, likely. I have a lot of paperwork to finish in the next few days. I also need to prepare… I have a meeting set up with Hades and Dionysus in two days.” 

Clarisse nods and finishes off her breakfast in record time. She slips into her own room to change. When she steps out minutes later, she’s dressed in her usual light armor. Silena is secretly delighted to find that she’s not wearing those damned leather gloves. 

Clarisse says nothing else before bowing and exiting her chambers, barking a few orders at the soldiers in the hallway. Silena smiles to herself before readying for the day, too. She dresses casually and comfortably, for today she will be doing nothing more than answering letters and pondering over council issues. In a few days, she’ll meet with Hades, Dionysus, and Persephone. She’s going to convince them to work with her. She must. 

Until then, paperwork. 

The afternoon passes in a blur, to be honest. Silena enjoys her work. She enjoys the process of thinking through a problem and offering a solution. Sometimes the issues are boring, like a squabble between a farmer and a fisherman. Sometimes she curses the gods for making her do this. But at the end of the day, she knows she was meant to do this. This is where she excels — at finding creative solutions for complex problems. 

As the days pass, things go back to normal with Clarisse. Well, sort of. Clarisse’s face heals, and she returns to her own bed at night. But every interaction is still charged, like both of them are dams holding back gallons upon gallons of water. With one word, Silena knows both of those dams will break open. 

She does her best not to stare, or daydream, or swoon after Clarisse. The knight seems determined to make it hard on her, though. She sits at the table opposite Silena, pouring over books and records. She offers suggestions on the war; on the failed peace. She strategizes with Silena. She encourages Silena when the paperwork or stress gets the better of her. 

Silena’s former appeal to Clarisse, to never repeat what happened in the dungeons, had been genuine. She’d meant it. If they act on their feelings again, everything will change (everything already has). Silena will be confused (she already is). Silena will always have to choose her kingdom over her knight. It’s the latter reason that keeps Silena from pulling Clarisse to her. 

Merely one week has passed since that eventful night in the dungeons. One singular kiss, and now Silena is a wreck. She’d tried to keep things normal. Safe. Comfortable. But despite her best efforts, the world had changed. 

The change was evident in everything they did, whether they shared breakfast, strode through the gardens, or stood next to each other in the throne room. That yearning to touch her, to be touched by her, was constantly there, and Silena considered it a little harder every day not to do so. 

You do not deserve her, Silena tells herself when Clarisse smiles at her over a book. 

She is too good for you, Silena reminds herself when Clarisse picks a flower for her. 

You will ruin her, Silena thinks when Clarisse offers to teach her how to use a knife. 

I want her so badly it could kill me.

Notes:

I read a lot of fics where Clarisse is the one who feels undeserving of love. while that is definitely true in this variation — and it will certainly be explored, mind you — I think Silena is often overlooked in her own relationship. she is certainly the main character of this fic, and even though she grew up in a castle that places a high importance on love, she feels undeserving of it. my poor baby.

Chapter 13: chapter thirteen

You're an angel, I'm a dog.
I'll destroy you like I am, 
I'm sorry I'm the one you love.

"I'm Your Man" by Mitski

+++++

Clarisse is pretty sure her brain no longer works. 

Even as she stands guard behind her princess — her eyes trained on Lord Dionysus, Lord Hades, and Lady Persephone — her mind is far, far away. Somewhere in a locked bedroom with Silena. She tries to shake off the daydreams, the thoughts, the wishing, but she can’t seem to think of anything other than her princess. 

Lord Dionysus’ voice goes up an octave as he continues talking. Clarisse is pretty sure he’s saying something about army numbers, or ships, or something like that. She really is trying very hard to pay attention. 

Silena sits in front of her, back straight, hands folded in front of her. She’s barely looked at Clarisse in an hour (Clarisse has been counting the minutes, thank you). Their agreement — to remain friends, acquaintances — is important to Clarisse. She doesn’t want to break that trust, or her fucking vows, but… 

Silena’s lips are so soft. Clarisse still remembers the way they felt against her own. What it felt like to hold Silena, to touch her. She swallows harshly, trying to pull her mind from that memory. It cannot happen again. It will not happen again. 

“Princess Silena?” 

Silena jerks, her knee slamming into the underside of the stone table. She winces, but quickly turns her attention to the lords and lady sitting before her. Clarisse is tempted to question her, to ask her if she needs anything, but she bites her tongue. She cannot appear too interested in the princess. She doesn’t need anyone else looking at her suspiciously. 

Ever since returning to her position as Silena’s knight and protector, Clarisse has been hounded with questions, insults, and glares. All of the soldiers in the castle hate her. They don’t know she was the one who cut down their brothers, but they hate her nonetheless. She doesn’t blame them.  

“I have gathered you today to discuss what we can do to stop this war,” Silena says, her voice drawing Clarisse’s attention. “You all have voiced your opinions in court, as I have. We agree that a war would be catastrophic for our kingdom.” 

Hades tilts his head to the side, and says, “You are very bold to host this meeting in your mother's palace.” 

Silena sets her jaw, her fingers curling into a fist beside her. Of course, Clarisse notices her every movement. “That’s not bold, Lord Hades. Bold is what I plan to do next, which is ask for your support when I take the throne.” 

Dionysus narrows his eyes on her, clearly not having expected such blatant plans. “You will have it, of course,” Dionysus replies carefully. “When the day comes that Queen Aphrodite passes.” 

Silena snorts. “Don’t be coy with me, my lord. To put it simply, I plan to take the throne by force. There is a similar plot at play in Pylos. To avoid a war, the current queens must be displaced.” 

If Clarisse thought the conversation tense before, she’d been severely mistaken. Silena’s words hang in the air, the room growing hot and stuffy with every passing silent second. Clarisse tightens her grip on the hilt of her sword, just in case. 

“How would you do this?” Persephone asks, her eyes alight with interest. 

“I’d need your help,” Silena says. “I will need allies — as many as I can get. Even then, Ares will not let Aphrodite be de-throned without a fight. I will need soldiers.” 

“You mean to start a civil war in Cyprus when there is a very real threat beyond these walls?” Dionysus snaps. “How would fighting amongst ourselves help the kingdom?” 

Silena levels her gaze at the lord. Clarisse has been on the receiving end of that look — it’s not a pleasant experience. Dionysus squirms in his seat. 

“Do not think this a mad grab for power, my lord. I do not want the throne. But I will take it, and I will lead this kingdom away from a war. A few fights here in this palace are better than losing thousands of lives in an endless war with Pylos, no?” 

Dionysus sits back in his seat and crosses his arms. Hades watches with cool indifference, his dark eyes never betraying his inner thoughts. Lady Persephone is the only one that Clarisse can read. The lady, with her curly hair and rosy cheeks, grins at Silena. 

“You’d need an army to defeat Ares and his men,” Persephone murmurs. “We could not provide you with that. We don’t have the numbers — not even combined. Even if you do find an army, where will you stow them? Aphrodite will notice if an army that does not belong to her is settling near the palace. Ares will crush them before they can come to your aide. I support your desire for peace, princess, but your plans are incomplete.” 

“So help me complete them,” Silena says. “I cannot do this alone, it’s true. That’s why I have gathered you.” 

The chamber door opens, and for a moment, Clarisse thinks they’ve been caught. Though this meeting is technically not even suspicious, she can’t help the fear and guilt that well up in her as footsteps echo down the hall. She begins to unsheathe her sword, but then a courier comes into view. Without needing an order, Clarisse steps forward and yanks the young boy back out of the room. Behind her, Silena continues the conversation. 

Clarisse slams the door closed behind her and turns her gaze to the boy, who looks petrified. 

“You must be new,” Clarisse growls. “Because only an idiot would barge into a council chamber without knocking or announcing himself.” 

The boy nods pathetically. “I have come from Pylos.” Clarisse’s stomach drops. The boy removes a letter from his coat and hands it to Clarisse. “This is for Princess Silena’s eyes only.” 

Clarisse snatches it from his hands and tucks it into the lining of her cloak. “I am her sworn protector. You have my word; no one else will lay eyes on it.” 

The boy nods and scampers back down the hall, disappearing into the shadows of the corridors. Clarisse can’t be bothered with thinking about how such a young, small child made it here from Pylos. How did he even get in the castle? She doesn't want to know. 

She smooths her cloak before entering the room. She bows in front of Silena, and the others, before resuming her position behind Silena’s chair. 

“Is your guard dog aware of your treason?” Dionysus asks, eyeing Clarisse with a smirk.  

“She is,” Silena snaps. “She is my sworn protector. She will not speak of what happens in this room.” 

Guard dog. People hurl that phrase at her like it’s meant to wound her, but what they don’t know is Clarisse likes it. Yes, she will be Silena’s guard dog. Clarisse is glad that so many people can see the bond between them. Clarisse is unreservedly, irrefutably loyal to Silena Beauregard. She will kill, she will maim, she will obey whatever orders Silena gives her. It’s not blind faith, though some may think it so. There is no manipulation involved in whatever it is between Silena and Clarisse. It is loyalty; brutal, pure, dogged loyalty. What most people fail to recognize is it goes both ways. 

Dionysus doesn’t seem pleased, but he says nothing more of the matter. Hades and Persephone mumble a few whispered words between them before the lady looks at Silena and says, “Are your alliances and sources in Pylos reliable?” 

“If they’re still alive,” Silena answers without hesitation. Clarisse considers giving her the letter right then and there, but… no, she’ll wait until they’re alone. 

“If we remove Athena and Aphrodite from power,” Persephone says, “Are you sure your allies will choose peace? Both kingdoms will be vulnerable after such changes. You’re sure Annabeth won't start another war?” 

“I’m sure.” 

Persephone bites her bottom lip, then eyes her husband. Lord Hades nods, “Then you have us as allies. I do not wish for war.” 

All eyes turn to Lord Dionysus, who is draining his goblet. When he sets it down, his lips stained red from the wine, he sighs. “You have me, as well. But until you can summon a secret, invisible army with the strength to defeat Ares, there is nothing more for us to discuss.” 

Clarisse winces at the mention of her father. 

“There could be another way to take out Ares,” Persephone hums. She spreads her hands, “It’s true that you will never take the throne while he is here to defend Aphrodite. He will never follow you. But if he wasn’t around when you made your move for the throne…” 

“What, like we send him overseas on a tactical mission?” Silena snorts. “He’d return when he heard the news and murder me.” 

“Not if he was dead,” Persephone says, eyes gleaming. 

Silena doesn’t answer right away. Clarisse’s heart has started thumping wildly in her chest; she hopes the nobles can’t hear it. She has no care for her father, it’s true, but… to discuss his murder is another thing entirely. She didn’t know she’d feel so conflicted. 

Silena glances up at Clarisse but says nothing. Clarisse keeps her eyes on the wall, careful not to show any emotion on her face.

“It’s an option we will consider later,” Silena says. “For now, I thank you for your trust, your alliance, and your discretion. ” 

The others very quickly pick up on the dismissal. The three nobles get up from the table, bow to her, and head for the exit. Only Persephone remains loitering. Clarisse glares at her, but the lady only continues gazing at Silena, who is clearly exhausted. 

“Walk with me, princess.” 

Clarisse bites back a groan. Silena rises and walks next to Persephone, the two royals talking in soft voices. Clarisse trails behind them, pondering over the issue of her father. 

What would it be like to live in a world without Ares? Clarisse had never even considered it before. He has been such a constant influence in her life; his voice always directing her path. She never thought she’d have the chance to live without him looming over her shoulder. 

And yet, despite the hope that fills her chest at the thought, there is regret, too. Even after all he has done, Ares is still her father. He raised her. He remembered her birthday. Taught her to defend herself. He would kill for her. It’s not love between them, but it’s something. 

Clarisse shudders when they step into the gardens. Summer has long since passed, and now autumn is settling in. The air is cooler and has a bit more bite. Her body still aches, even a week after being released from prison. Her face is mostly healed, thank the gods, but her side wound is still sore.

Persephone and Silena wind through the bushes, most of which are losing their color due to the incoming cold. Clarisse stays far enough behind them not to overhear the conversation, partly for respect and partly because she can’t be bothered. If Silena wants her to know something, Clarisse is confident she’ll tell her. 

They stop in a clearing, where all of those pretty flower bushes used to be. Now, only a few of the colorful beds are hanging on to life. Persephone whispers something in Silena’s ear, pats her arm, and smiles kindly at Clarisse before walking away.

Silena stands in the clearing, in her dark dress, and raises her face to the skies. Clarisse watches her; beholds her. Silena releases a breath and it fogs in the coolness. A droplet of rain plops onto Clarisse’s nose. 

With great difficulty, she tears her eyes off Silena and looks to the sky, which is darkening significantly. A strong breeze blows through the garden, rattling the branches and leaves. Silena shivers, and finally looks at Clarisse. 

“What did she want?” Clarisse asks, stepping toward the princess. 

“To talk about my future as a queen,” Silena murmurs, sounding shockingly angry. “She wanted to pass on some advice.” 

Again, Clarisse doesn’t push her for details. Silena is poked and prodded throughout her day enough as it is. If she wishes to share something with Clarisse, she can do so on her own terms. 

They stroll through the gardens as the sky darkens above them. That heat in Clarisse’s blood is still there, beneath the sense of responsibility. One look at Silena and Clarisse is thrown back into that pit of arousal and desire. That’s why she keeps her eyes on the flowers, not the girl. 

When they pass the dahlias, Clarisse smiles. She bends down and picks one, offering it to Silena. 

“Was it you? The dahlia on my plate?” Clarisse asks. She still has it, tucked away in her room. 

“Yes. I wanted to let you know, somehow, that I hadn’t forgotten you down there. I didn’t want to risk visiting again, so I sent that, instead.” 

Clarisse gazes down at the flowers with a smile, and says, “I knew it. I knew it was you.” 

Another comment about the flower is on the tip of Clarisse’s tongue when, before she can form the words, Silena is pushing her. The princess shoves Clarisse backward, step after step, until they’re tucked into an alcove on the other side of the garden clearing. 

Shielded from any unwanted looks, Silena right in front of her, Clarisse’s mind goes totally blank. She’s sure this shouldn’t be happening, but with Silena so close to her, she can’t fathom why. Silena gives her a smile, that certain smile — the one that goes right through her, that’s both shy and a little bit mischievous.

Silena says nothing, but her chest rises and falls in rapid heaves. Clarisse’s back is pressed against the stone alcove, and it’s cool and hard against her back. She is trapped under Silena’s gaze, as she always is. As she loves to be. 

Silena’s hands move from Clarisse’s arms, unpinning her from the wall, and settle on Clarisse’s waist. Gods above. 

“This is probably not a good idea,” Clarisse whispers, because she has to. She has to give Silena this one chance to walk away. 

Silena leans in closer, on the tip of her toes, and presses her lips close to Clarisse’s ear. “Then tell me to stop.”

It’s in moments like this, when she sees the aggressive, dominant side of Silena, that Clarisse realizes just how far she’d go for this woman. She’d tear the world apart if Silena asked. She’d pluck the stars out of the sky. She’d bottle up the ocean. 

For just this one moment, Clarisse allows her sense of duty to slip away from her. She can’t fight this any longer; she doesn’t want to. She knows she stands no chance against her feelings for Silena. 

“Don’t stop,” Clarisse whispers. 

Silena’s lips crash against hers. Oh gods, it’s better than the first time. There is no rush, no fear, in this kiss. Silena grips her hips and pulls her closer as their lips move softly against one another. Clarisse finally finds her courage and moves her hands to the nape of Silena’s neck, pulling her closer and deeper into the kiss. 

Silena tastes of strawberries. Of wine. Of sweetness and beauty and strength. 

“I have wanted to do this every single day since I first kissed you,” Silena admits, her breath hot against Clarisse’s face. Can the princess hear the racing of Clarisse’s heart? Can she feel it? 

“Don’t stop,” is all Clarisse can say in response. Don’t stop kissing me. Don’t stop touching me. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t let this moment end. 

Silena grins and leans in again, moving her hands from Clarisse’s waist to her face. Her touch is feather-light and soft; gentle. Clarisse has never been held with such softness. She slides her tongue along Silena’s bottom lip, deepening the kiss. Silena gasps into her mouth, and good gods above, Clarisse loses it. 

She drags her lips from Silena’s mouth, trailing kisses along the princess’ jaw, her neck, and her exposed shoulder. Silena tilts her head back, giving Clarisse more room to kiss up her neck. 

“I’m yours,” Clarisse whispers into the crook of her neck.

She needs Silena to know that. She needs Silena to know that no matter what, Clarisse is hers. Whatever comes next, Clarisse will not leave her side. Could not, even if she wanted to. Silena is the sun, and Clarisse loves the draw. 

“You keep talking as if you belong to me,” Silena tells her breathlessly. “But you need to know that the opposite is the truth. I belong to you, Clarisse. I think I have for a long while.”  

Clarisse stills, though her hands keep roaming up and down Silena’s sides. Mapping out the curves and divots in her body. Silena leans into each and every touch. 

“Silena,” Clarisse says warningly. We both know that you do not, and that’s okay with me. 

“I belong to no kingdom or throne or people — only you,” Silena says, gasping a little at the end when Clarisse presses a kiss to the soft part of skin below her ear. 

“I do not know how to accept this…this care you offer me,” Clarisse responds. “I don’t know how to bear it. You’re… you’re a princess, Silena, and we should not go down this road. We aren’t allowed to want this with each other.” 

Last chance, Clarisse thinks. This is your last chance to walk away from me.

“You have never once obeyed the rules,” Silena says with a smirk. “Don’t start now.” 

“As you wish, my lady,” Clarisse says, that heat rising up in her chest once more. Silena raises an eyebrow, but before she can say anything, Clarisse bends down slowly and presses her lips to Silena’s cheek. 

“My lady,” she whispers, and places a kiss on Silena’s shoulder. 

“My lady,” she whispers, and places a kiss on Silena’s neck. 

“My lady,” she whispers, and kisses Silena’s jaw. 

Silena’s breathing is shallow and unsteady, her chest heaving. She exhales unsteadily as Clarisse trails her lips across Silena’s jaw, toward the corner of her mouth. 

“Clarisse.” 

Oh gods, hearing her own name on Silena’s lips is like ecstasy. It’s better than any song Clarisse has ever heard. It’s euphoric. Silena grabs the collar of Clarisse’s shirt and tugs her closer, tugging her lips to Silena’s. Clarisse smiles into the kiss. 

Kissing Silena renders Clarisse’s brain completely useless. Silena lets out a breathy sigh, which only encourages Clarisse more. Her movements get frantic, ragged. She pulls Silena closer, needing to feel her skin. This stupid armor is preventing her from feeling Silena’s skin. 

Silena wraps her hands around Clarisse’s neck, curling a few pieces of hair around her fingers. She gives a little tug and Clarisse gasps. Clarisse tilts her head back as much as she can in her armor. Silena indulges. She kisses up and down Clarisse’s neck, leaving hot, wet kisses wherever she pleases. 

Clarisse’s hands were on Silena’s waist, but now they trail up and down her sides. Silena is in an infuriatingly tight dress, one Clarisse wouldn’t know how to unlace even if she could right now. 

A crash of thunder breaks the two of them apart. Silena jumps back, eyes wide as she looks at the sky. Clarisse’s lips are swollen, her brain mush. She blinks a few times, trying to remember her own name. Rain immediately begins pouring into the gardens. 

Silena laughs once, then shrieks and grabs Clarisse’s hand. They run through the gardens, Silena’s dress getting more muddy by the second. Clarisse, very heroically, stumbles and nearly falls into a rose bush. She would have, too, if not for the princess’ hand in her own. 

Silena laughs as she runs. Clarisse can’t wipe the grin from her face as they spill into the castle, rain and mud and laughter trailing behind them. A guard startles as they tumble through the door. Clarisse instantly drops Silena’s hand and stands up straighter, trying to summon all of her career experience. 

“The princess got caught in a rainstorm,” Clarisse says, trying to force her lips from forming a smile. 

Silena nods very stoically, "Clear my schedule for the next few hours.” 

The guard lifts an eyebrow but nods in obedience and rushes down the hall, presumably to find someone who knows how to fulfill Silena’s orders. As soon as he turns the corner, and they are again alone, Clarisse laughs. She can’t help it! She’s giddy; electricity hums through her body. Silena grabs her arm, lugging her up the stairs. Her beautiful dress is certainly ruined, now. It had once been lavender, but now it’s coated in mud and rain. The hem of the dress is torn and ruined, likely from the thorns of the rose bush Silena saved Clarisse from. 

They laugh and giggle like school girls all the way up the stairs. By some gods-forsaken miracle, they don’t run into any other guards on their route. Only once they’re standing outside of Silena’s quarters do they see another pair of guards. 

“Can you please inform Queen Aphrodite that I won’t make it to dinner this evening?” Silena asks, sounding very solemn. Clarisse has to cough into her hand to hide her smile. 

The guards, again, nod obediently and set out down the hall at a brisk pace. Clarisse doesn't have time to think before Silena pulls her into the room. The door slams behind them, but not before Silena’s lips crash against Clarisse’s once more. 

Clarisse unclips her weapon belt, and it crashes to the ground with a clang! She doesn’t break the kiss, only keeps stumbling after Silena, who leads her through the room. Silena’s hands are in her hair, undoing her braid with an expertise that Clarisse would one day like to replicate. Clarisse’s curls spring from their place. Silena sighs contentedly into her mouth, running her hands through Clarisse’s hair.

“My lady, are you—oh! ” 

Clarisse jumps back, her eyes immediately landing on Rachel Dare. Oh gods. Rachel’s mouth is still in that ‘O’ shape when Silena says, “Hi love, good to see you. Would you mind coming back later?” 

Rachel’s shock very quickly dissolves and is replaced with a smirk. “Of course, my lady.” 

Without another word, the maid slips from the room, expertly locking the door behind her. Clarisse looks at Silena, at a loss for words. Silena’s face is flushed, her lips swollen, her hair drenched from the rain.  

“Will she…?” Clarisse asks, unsure how to voice her concern. 

“She won’t tell anyone,” Silena says, shaking her head. Little droplets of water fling from her hair, landing on the table and shelves beside them. Silena’s hand is still on Clarisse’s arm. She trails her finger up Clarisse’s arm, leaving goosebumps in her wake.

“Take off your armor,” Silena instructs. 

Clarisse has never been more eager to follow orders. She unfastens her bracers and greaves first, while Silena watches her. Then, the princess steps forward and helps her remove the shoulder piece. It clatters to the ground, but neither one of them jumps. Next, the leather coat underneath the iron plates. Silena takes it off, pressing a kiss to Clarisse’s shoulder. 

Before she knows it, Clarisse is standing in plainclothes before her princess. Silena smiles and kisses her. And kisses her. And kisses her. 

Clarisse could do this forever, she realizes. She could do this every second for the rest of her life, and die the happiest person in the world. She trails her hands up Silena’s waist, irritated at the fabric her fingers meet. She needs to feel Silena’s skin on hers. She needs to touch her. She needs to—

Silena must sense her desperation because suddenly the woman’s hands are on Clarisse’s face. Cupping her cheeks, pulling her closer. Skin on skin. Silena’s breath is heavy and warm in Clarisse’s mouth. They kiss each other desperately, hungrily.

Clarisse’s entire body hums as their lips slip against each other’s. For a moment, she’s sure the other woman is moaning her name, but then Silena’s knee comes between Clarisse’s and brushes against her thigh. Every thought vanishes, then. 

Clarisse braces herself with one hand on the wall, the other still gripping Silena’s waist. Silena pulls Clarisse’s body closer, which makes her leg brush up against Clarisse again. Clarisse can’t help the moan that slips from her lips. 

“Gods,” Clarisse gasps, her chest heaving. “Gods, gods, gods. ” 

She lowers her mouth back to Silena’s neck, biting tenderly on the softest parts. 

“I want you without this damn dress getting in the way,” Silena grumbles, tugging at the frilly skirt around her. She tilts her head to the side, giving Clarisse more access. “I want to touch you.” 

Clarisse might never have bothered to come up for air if Silena hadn’t said that. She pulls back, her eyes roaming over Silena’s flushed face. She looks down, eyeing the frilly skirts and fabrics that are currently keeping her knee from touching Silena. 

“We should probably…” Clarisse says, trailing off. A crash of lightning outside the window startles her, drawing her attention. The flash of light and boom of thunder seems to break the haze in Clarisse’s mind. Reality settles back on her shoulders. 

“Get undressed?” Silena asks, grinning cheekily. She curls a lock of Clarisse’s hair around her finger and tugs lightly. Clarisse laughs deeply, wondering if she’s ever felt this good. 

“I was going to say we should sleep,” Clarisse says — and it takes all of her willpower to say so. “Your mom is beginning the march to Pylos tomorrow.” 

Silena’s shoulders slump as she comes to the same realization. Her eyes are ringed with exhaustion already, and it physically hurts Clarisse to think of what else her princess is going to have to endure in the coming days. “Fine, but if I asked you to sleep next to me tonight, would you?” 

Clarisse grins and places another kiss on Silena’s lips. “If you can keep your hands to yourself, my lady.” 

Silena snorts and runs her hands up Clarisse’s bare arms. “If I’m to behave myself, you’re going to have to cover up those muscly arms of yours.” 

“Me? Shall I remind you of that scandalous nightgown you wore a few nights ago, just to torture me?” 

“Mmm, if you don’t hush, I’ll wear it again tonight just to do the same.” 

“Good gods above, I’ll never sleep.” 

“Sounds like a personal problem, La Rue.” 

Notes:

they went a whole week without acting on their feelings. good for them, honestly.

I wanted to draw out the angst a little longer, but it turns out I'm just not the kind of girl who was made to write slow-burn romances. when they know, they know — and I can't keep them apart.

hope you enjoyed as much as I did! unfortunately, it all goes to shit in the next chapter.

Chapter 14: chapter fourteen

Wake up, say good morning to
That sleepy person lying next to you.
If there's no one there, then
there's no one there,
but at least the war is over.

"In Our Bedroom After The War is Over" by Stars

+++++

 

When Silena wakes up the next morning, the very first thing she sees is Clarisse’s face. It takes her breath away for a moment. The sun filters through the window behind her, casting a golden hue across Clarisse’s features. The knight is still sleeping, soft little snores escaping her parted lips. One hand is tucked under her face, the other arm thrown around Silena’s waist. 

No nightmares found Silena last night. Not a single one. 

Silena smiles, allowing herself a few more minutes of peace. She pushes a curl out of Clarisse’s face. She can’t help herself from imagining a life with Clarisse. What would it be like to wake up next to her every day? What would it be like to do more than just kiss her? 

Kissing her is enough. Silena has never felt joy or pleasure like she did last night — and they’d only kissed. If she got to do that every day for the rest of her life, she’d die happy. She’d never want for anything else. 

Clarisse’s steady snores come to a sudden halt when she opens those dark brown eyes of hers. She smiles sleepily at Silena. 

“Sleep some more, if you wish,” Silena whispers. 

Clarisse shakes her head, though the movement is hindered by the pillows and blankets surrounding her. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Silena laughs softly, feasting her eyes on Clarisse’s bare arms. Clarisse’s sleepy eyes widen, though, and a snort escapes her mouth. “What?” 

Clarisse shrugs, a flush rising on her face. Silena raises an eyebrow when she realizes Clarisse isn’t just nervous, she’s embarrassed. “Clarisse, hasn’t anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” 

Clarisse just laughs again, obviously trying to ignore the question. She sits up in the bed, stretching her arms over her head. It’s clear she’s trying to end the conversation, but Silena refuses. She sits up, too, and makes Clarisse look her in the eye. “You are. Beautiful, I mean.” 

“No one looks at these scars, this violence, and thinks it’s beautiful, ” Clarisse responds with a huff. “But thank you for saying it.” 

“I’m not just saying it,” Silena says indignantly. “Beauty is subjective, and I would know, because I’m Aphrodite’s daughter. I know a thing or two. Beauty isn’t just roses and pink dresses.” 

Clarisse cocks her head to the side, curious, so Silena keeps going. “There is beauty in violence, Clarisse, just like there is beauty in peace. There is beauty in your scars, and your arms, and your face, and your eyes. I… I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off of you since the day I met you.” 

“You… what?” 

Seeing the shock on her face makes Silena sad. Hasn’t anyone ever told her how lovely she is? Sure, she’s covered in battle scars — but there is a beauty to perseverance. Those scars are proof of Clarisse’s determination and survival. Silena has never seen anything as gorgeous as Clarisse La Rue holding a sword. There is a beauty to the way her skin shines under the sun; the way her fingers wrap around a spear; the anger in her eyes. 

“You’re beautiful,” Silena tells her again. “And unless you cover up those gods damned arms of yours, I’m never letting you leave this bed.” 

Clarisse’s embarrassment fades away, a grin coming to her face. Confidence is a good look on her. She closes the space between them, pressing a kiss to Silena’s lips. It takes all of Silena’s willpower not to melt right then and there. 

It takes no time at all for Silena to be thrown back into that pit of arousal. Clarisse is just as soft and lovely as last night, though now she's well-rested and warm from a night's sleep. There's a faint buzzing in Silena's ears as Clarisse's heated, insistent lips move against hers. She wants nothing, can do nothing, think nothing, be nothing except exist in this perfect bubble of a moment. When Silena cups her knight's face in her hands, Clarisse encircles her arms around her waist, the two sharing the common goal of getting closer. Clarisse's fingertips flit beneath the hem of Silena’s shirt, ghosting the skin under there.

Silena never knew, never imagined, that it could be possible to lose your mind like this. But here she is, senses overwhelmed, synapses firing, mind frenzied and frayed. Clarisse's lips against hers, Clarisse's fingers against her skin, Clarisse's scent in her nostrils, Clarisse's heat against her body, Clarisse, Clarisse, Clarisse. I could have gone the rest of my life without knowing this, Silena realizes with a shudder. 

To satiate that fear, Silena pushes closer to Clarisse, desperate to feel her. She presses the front of her body to Clarisse's, arcing into her warmth. Clarisse whimpers at the touch, and that sound sends Silena into a carnal, primal state. She tosses one leg up and over Clarisse, hooking her knee around Clarisse's leg. Silena tugs them closer together, and Clarisse slips her knee between Silena's thighs with sensual expertise. 

Silena moans at the contact, at the friction. She experimentally grinds down on Clarisse's knee, eliciting moans from both women. Clarisse's teeth rake Silena's neck as their bodies push at each other. Silena moves faster, harder, her breath coming in ragged heaves. 

Voices echo down the hallway beyond Silena's chambers. Someone laughs. Oh, fuck. Silena stops her movements, resting her forehead against Clarisse's. The knight laughs softly, though her voice sounds a bit hoarse, too. 

"If we're ever going to get the chance to... be with each other, I'm starting to think it won't happen in this damn castle," Clarisse murmurs. 

"That's going to have to change," Silena says decidedly. "Because I'm not going to last another day without tasting you." 

Clarisse's lips part, a soft 'oh' escaping her. She flushes, and good gods above, it's the most beautiful look on her. Silena kisses her again, a quick peck, and says, "It's probably a good idea for you not to be in my bed when someone comes in here in a minute." 

Clarisse raises an eyebrow, "Do you often kick guests out of your bed in the wee hours of the morning?" 

"Wee hours of the morning?" Silena scoffs. "It's nearly afternoon, now." 

After one last kiss, Clarisse slips out of bed, her muscled back to Silena. She stretches, pulling her arms up and over her head. She rolls her shoulders, cracks her neck, and shakes out her arms. The movements aren’t hurried or performative. Silena figures Clarisse’s body is probably stiff and tense most of the time, after all the training and fighting she does. Silena lies on her back and enjoys the sight of Clarisse stretching. She could do this all day.  

“I have something for you,” Clarisse says, suddenly straightening. “It came yesterday during the council meeting. I wasn’t sure if I should give it to you in front of them or not…”

She searches the bedroom for her cloak, which is a difficult task considering the mess. Clarisse’s armor is scattered across the floor, leading a clear path from the door to the bed. Silena flushes as she remembers removing each piece of it last night. Finally, Clarisse finds her cloak and draws an envelope from a pocket. 

“I meant to give it to you after, but…” Clarisse flushes. “Well, we never got around to it.” 

Silena smirks, remembering every touch, kiss, and moan from the night before. She meant what she said earlier. One day soon, war or no, she’s going to have Clarisse entirely to herself for a full night. No duties, no responsibilities, and certainly no interruptions. 

“I’m sorry,” Clarisse says as she hands over the letter. “I should have mentioned it sooner.” 

Silena takes the letter, fingers brushing over Clarisse’s, and says, “No, you made the right call. Hades, Dionysus, and Persephone are our allies, but they don’t have to know everything, yet. And if you plan on apologizing for last night, I swear to the gods, we’re going to fight.” 

Clarisse tosses her head back and laughs. She presses another quick kiss to Silena’s cheek, saying, “I won’t apologize, then. I’m going to freshen up, then perhaps we can enjoy breakfast together before duty calls?” 

Silena kisses her, soft and quick. “Go now, before I pull you back to bed.” 

Clarisse slips into the bathroom with a grin. Silena smiles to herself before unfolding the paper — which is thin and cheap. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the names are not. She scans the letter quickly, looking for a signature — Luke Castellan’s. Her heart soars in her chest. He made it! He’s alive!

Princess Silena, 

We have arrived home in Pylos. By ‘we,’ I mean myself, Perseus, Reyna, Piper, and Princess Annabeth. I’m afraid your knight was left behind in the castle. I sincerely hope she did not meet a tragic fate. We owe our lives to you both, and your bravery will not soon be forgotten. 

Piper is safe here. Annabeth has granted her immunity, though Athena is not happy about it. The Queen is furious at the charges Aphrodite brought against Annabeth. But Athena has no plans to declare war — yet. I’m sorry to say, friend, it all boils down to you, now. 

Silena sets down the letter and takes a deep breath. It’s good to hear that her sister is alive and safe. That knowledge lifts a weight off her shoulders. Before she can return to the note, Rachel enters the room, followed by two other servants. Rachel casts her eyes around the room quickly — assessing the area for any potential reasons she should turn around. When she sees Silena up and out of bed, and the bathroom door closed, she smiles and begins setting the table up for breakfast. Silena calls a hello, then continues reading. 

We know Aphrodite is readying for war. We saw enough of her soldiers on the road. Annabeth is doing what she can to gain allies in court, and preparing to take the throne from her mother, but Athena is more cautious and suspicious than ever before. 

I’m afraid the fate of our two kingdoms currently rests on your shoulders. 

That said, I do have an idea. I wanted to write to you directly, for there is no way Annabeth’s communications will leave the castle unnoticed by her mother. I wonder if there might be a different way to force peace upon Pylos and Cyprus — an arrangement neither kingdom has had the opportunity to make before now. 

I know we have not known each other long, Princess Silena, and that is something I resent. I am proud to call you a friend and an ally, especially in these tumultuous times. I only wish we had not met under such horrific circumstances. 

I write to you, Silena, to offer you power. I have family beyond Olympia. Powerful family. They are rulers of their own territory. They are powerful, rich, and they have a large army. Athena is wary of them, as they are of her. But my family would support you, Silena, if I gave them a reason to. My family would come to your aide and sweep Ares aside like he was nothing more than an irritating horsefly. 

You could take the throne unchallenged. You could start over. Make a kingdom without the horrors of Aphrodite’s reign looming over it. You could create a better world than our parents have. 

All it would take is marrying me. I know this is not a romantic proposal, and for that, I am sorry. Though I think you are beautiful and kind, it is clear we do not love each other yet. I think we could, one day. If you marry me, and name me your king-consort, my family will prepare their armies. The marriage would solidify an alliance with not only Pylos, but also kingdoms beyond Olympia. 

Think about it. 

Sincerely,

Lord Luke Castellan 

 

Silena drops the letter, allowing it to flutter to the floor. Marriage. Armies. Peace. War. Marriage. 

Her hands fly to cover her mouth, to keep the gasp from echoing through her chamber. For some reason, tears well up in her eyes. Suddenly it’s all too much. Piper is alive; Annabeth is alive. It all boils down to Silena. The fate of the war, of the potential peace, rests on Silena’s shoulders. Thousands of lives — in her hands. It’s too much. 

Marriage. Would marriage solve her problems? Would it be enough to bring peace to Pylos and Cyprus? Luke is not as high-ranking as Silena would like, but his father is still an incredibly important figure in the Pylos court. Luke is the closest thing to a prince that Pylos has to offer. A marriage alliance… would it satiate Aphrodite? Would it make her call off her armies? 

Clarisse pokes her head out of the bathroom, her hair wet and sticking to her forehead. She smiles, but when she notices Silena’s likely very shocked expression, the smile fades. She pushes the door open and walks to Silena, kneeling before her. 

“What’s wrong, Sil? Is it Piper?” 

“No,” Silena says, shaking her head. “Piper is fine. Safe. Annabeth granted her immunity.” 

Clarisse releases a breath, relief showing on her face. “Good. That’s good. If that’s not what’s bothering you, what is? Has Athena declared war?” 

Again, Silena shakes her head. “No.”

And for the first time in a long, long time, she lies to Clarisse. 

“I’m fine, I promise. Just shaken up, I guess. What did you want to eat for breakfast?” 

+++++

She thinks of nothing but Luke’s letter — hidden in her corset — for the next two days. She attends war meetings, but she doesn’t have the focus to protest during them. This, in particular, seems to make Lord Dionysus wary. She barely finishes her paperwork in the afternoon. She attends dinner with the court, but she doesn’t talk. She smiles politely and tries to figure out the best move. 

Marrying Luke could end the war before it really begins. It will smooth things over with Athena. Piper could come home… maybe. The two kingdoms could join together in an alliance by marriage. And if that’s not enough… Luke says he has access to an army, money, and power. Marrying him is her only choice. 

She never thought she’d be lucky enough to marry for love. She always considered marriage as an opportunity, not a luxury. Now that it’s time to accept it, though… regret bubbles up inside of her. 

Silena glances across the table, toward the massive oak doors of the Queen’s private dining room, and catches Clarisse’s eye. They’ve barely had time to talk these past two days. Every moment since waking up together has been taken up with thoughts of war. Silena has stayed up late into the night strategizing while Clarisse has been offering suggestions based on her war expertise. Though they’ve slept in the same bed, tangled up in each other’s arms, they’ve barely shared more than soft kisses since that first night. 

Clarisse smiles softly, her dark eyes focused solely on Silena. 

Marrying Luke would mean the end of whatever this is with Clarisse. Silena was never dumb enough to believe she’d get to have Clarisse forever, but… but this is too soon. They just found each other. They deserve more time, more happiness, more kisses… 

I’m sorry, Silena mouth to her knight. Clarisse raises an eyebrow questioningly, but Silena knows she cannot and will not leave her post by the door. 

“Silena, what’s troubling you?” Aphrodite asks as she stabs a tomato with her fork. “You’ve barely said a thing all day, which is very unlike you.” 

A few of the gathered lords and ladies snicker at the jab, but Silena only sits up straighter and smiles. “I have news, Mother.” 

Aphrodite’s eyes narrow, but she smiles and waves her hand through the air, motioning for her daughter to go on. Silena closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and spreads her hands on the table. 

“I know you believe war is our only option, after what Athena has done,” Silena says, forcing all of her emotions and hope into her words. She mimics her mother, crafting her thoughts carefully and intentionally. She pours all of her charm into her next words. “And you know my thoughts on war, Mother. You know how I long only for peace and prosperity. Love and beauty. I think I have found a way for our kingdom to reach a happy agreement with Pylos.” 

Aphrodite scowls, but the rest of the lords and ladies are leaning in eagerly. Silena has captured them with her words, as she intended. Silena doesn’t dare look at Clarisse. 

“I am the heir to the throne of Cyprus,” Silena says. “And I have decided to marry.” 

The entire room holds its breath. Everyone looks to the queen, to see her reaction. Aphrodite cocks her head to the side, her face not giving away any shock or anger. She sips on her wine, smacks her lips, and says, “To whom will you be wed, daughter?” 

Silena doesn’t dare hesitate. She smiles brightly, and says, “Lord Luke Castellan, the son of Hermes — who is an advisor to Queen Athena. It is my hope and prayer that this union pleases you, Mother.” 

“You would marry the son of our enemies?” Aphrodite asks, her anger shining through in her tone. 

“I am going to marry a powerful young lord who desires peace for his people, and my own,” Silena retorts. “If you agree, Mother, we can find another path out of this war. Instead of fighting Athena, we could unite our houses.” 

“This boy is not of royal blood.” 

“Hermes is as close to royalty as you could want,” Silena says desperately. “Unfortunately, Athena’s only child is already married.” 

“This marriage is sweet, child, but it will do nothing to justify Athena’s attack on our kingdom. Why you would want to ally yourself with our enemies is beyond me. I forbid it.” 

“We could arrange a parley,” Silena says, pouring the last of her charm and willpower into the words. She looks at the lords and ladies of the court and smiles one of those wide, bright, sickeningly sweet smiles. She bats her eyelashes. “We could meet with Athena and discuss the charges. Put her on trial, so to speak. Once she has proven her innocence, and I have married Lord Castellan, the kingdoms could find peace.” 

This option isn’t unlike the others she has brought up in court before. She’s suggested a conversation with Athena more than a dozen times, but the court and Queen always laughed it off. They could not comprehend a world in which it was not Athena’s fault. Now, though, with the promise of a fruitful marriage… it’s enough to draw their attention. 

“You, my court, know me,” Silena says. “You know my heart belongs to my home, my country. Do you believe I would willingly enter a marriage with our enemies?” 

A few of them shake their heads; others murmur ‘no, my lady’. Aphrodite’s jaw clenches as she watches her own people become swayed by her daughter. Silena tries not to smirk, not to look too proud of herself. 

“Then we must give them a chance to prove themselves innocent,” Silena says. “We owe it to our people. To ourselves.” 

Lord Dionysus’ eyes are shining with mischief when he looks to the queen and says, “My Queen… perhaps the young heir is correct. With a marriage alliance in place, Athena would not dare attack our kingdom ever again. We could again open trade routes with Pylos. Our kingdom would prosper.” 

Aphrodite grits her teeth, a vein nearly popping out of the side of her neck. And still, she says nothing. She only glares at Silena. 

Silena looks at Hades and Persephone and cocks her head to the side purposefully. 

“I agree, my queen,” Hades says softly. “Princess Silena has offered us a new path. What do we have to lose by hearing out Queen Athena?”

Persephone smiles, “A royal wedding would bring the two kingdoms such joy. Think of the festivities. The ceremony. The dress! There is so much to think of other than war. So much to live for.” 

As the last of her allies plead her case, Silena slowly looks back to her mother. If Aphrodite forbids the marriage now, there is no choice but war. At this point, Silena is sure Aphrodite doesn’t even care if Athena is guilty of attacking or not. She wants war simply for the sake of her wounded pride. 

But this marriage… it is a chance. Silena doesn’t love Luke, nor does she want him, but she will marry him. If it brings peace, if it saves the lives of her people, she will marry him with a smile on her face. 

Her duty has always been to Cyprus, first and foremost. 

Queen Aphrodite sighs and rubs her temple. Then, “I suppose I cannot be the one to stand in the way of love, can I? We will arrange a meeting with Queen Athena in the area between our two kingdoms. I do not trust her to come here, and I doubt she trusts us to enter her home. We will meet with her and discuss the attacks and your marriage to the young Lord Luke Castellan.”

The relief that thuds through Silena is overwhelming and dizzying. She smiles and thanks her Mother through the haze of ringing ears. Dionysus winks at her from across the table. 

She did it. She convinced her mother to at the very least slow the war effort. 

Silena looks to the door, but Clarisse is already gone. 

+++++

Clarisse doesn’t return to their shared chambers by nightfall. Silena gets so desperate she asks Rachel if she’s seen the knight. 

“No, my lady, I haven’t,” Rachel says, eyes sad. “Is everything… alright?” 

“Yes,” Silena says, nodding decidedly. Her voice is still shaky, though, when she says, “I’m to be married soon. We leave within the week to meet Queen Athena and sort the details.” 

Rachel has gotten pretty good at hiding her emotions, mostly at Silena’s insistence. Now, though, her shock shines through on her face. She quickly clamps her mouth shut and curtsies in front of Silena, who only sighs. 

“How lovely,” Rachel says. “I suppose your days are about to get even busier as you plan the wedding.” 

Silena only nods dejectedly, still looking at the closed door. “You’ll let me know if you see her, won’t you?” 

“Of course, my lady.” 

She doesn’t come back by midnight, which Silena knows because Silena is still awake. It’s the first night they’ve spent apart this week. In only three days, Silena had gotten used to the warmth and smell of Clarisse in her bed. She’d gotten used to the snoring, the breathing, the shifting of the mattress.

She tosses and turns for most of the night. Each time she wakes from sleep, she pads over to the game room to see if Clarisse has returned to her own bed, at least. She never does. When the sun begins to rise on the horizon and Clarisse still isn’t back, Silena stops checking. 

She wakes up a few hours later, feeling more exhausted than when she went to sleep. Rachel is already there, readying her dress for the day. A massive breakfast spread waits on the table – untouched. Silena glances at her maidservant, but Rachel only shakes her head. No sign of Clarisse. 

By mid-afternoon, Silena has written four solutions to issues in town, been re-fitted for a new dress, and written Luke a reply. She paces around her chambers angrily, not caring that it’s unladylike and beneath her. She waves her hands through the air.

“It’s not like it was my idea to get married! She and I both knew it would never last. We knew it. She doesn’t get to hate me for this.”

A knock at the door silences her. Good gods, is it Clarisse? With hope soaring to life in her chest, Silena lunges for the door and throws it open. The smile on her face, the one she was readying for her knight, falls as soon as she sees the unfamiliar soldier on the other side of the door.

He bows before her, as do the other three. “My lady, we are here to guard your room. Ser Clarisse has taken a few days' leave to prepare before the journey to no-man’s-land.”

“I beg your pardon?” Silena snaps. “Where has she gone?”

The soldier pales, obviously not expecting to be questioned. He blinks a few times, lips moving but no words coming out. Finally, he says, “I’m sorry, my lady, but I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

“Clarisse La Rue is my sworn protector,” Silena says. “And you’re telling me none of you questioned her when she asked you to cover for her?”

The soldier swallows and takes a step back, bowing again. One of the others — a young man with dark, curly hair says, “We don’t question the daughter of Ares, my lady.”

With a very unladylike snort, Silena closes the door in his face. She knew Clarisse intimidated the other guards in the castle, but she had no idea how much the Lady of Bloodshed terrified them all. Their fear isn’t misplaced, she knows that. The rest of them see the blood on her hands, the scars on her face, and make up their minds about her. It hadn’t dawned on Silena that she might be one of the only people who has seen the soft, caring side of Clarisse. 

+++++

Five days pass, and Silena doesn’t see Clarisse at all. Her knight must be away from the castle, because Silena purposefully walks through every single corridor, room, and closet. Her guards — all four of them — don’t enjoy the tour. 

In the five days without Clarisse, Silena is kept so busy she almost doesn’t have time to think about how lonely she is. Almost. She still has her paperwork and duties to see to, though now her free time in the mornings is occupied with marriage plans. In the evenings, she doesn’t even have time to join her mother for dinner. She spends most of her evenings being fitted for various dresses. 

The royal wedding overseer pokes and prods her with brushes and fabrics, as if the color of Silena’s future wedding dress is of utmost importance. He rakes a sharp iron comb through Silena’s hair, commenting on the thickness and lack of curls. 

At the mention of curls, Silena thinks of Clarisse. Then she curses and tries to focus on the task at hand: wedding preparation. She still thinks of Clarisse and her soft, dark curls for the rest of the night.

“When is the wedding?” the overseer asks, pushing his pencil behind his ear.

“I don’t know yet,” Silena snaps, tugging her hand out of his. She’s tired and pissy and hungry. “It will be within the next month, of that I’m sure. Will that be enough time, sir?”

“Of course,” he scoffs. He snatches her hand back and begins critiquing her nails — which she’s bitten as far as she can.

Silena swallows her curses and allows him to work. This is the price, she reminds herself. Marriage, and everything it entails, is the price she was willing to pay for peace. She doesn’t get to be mad now that it’s working. 

Notes:

you didn't think i'd let them find happiness THAT quickly, did you??

Chapter 15: chapter fiteen

I'm sorry if I'm mean
That's just my father in me
I hate to be cruel
But I was raised on blood, whiskey and fools
My eyes are bloodshot
Words hurt more than I once thought
And high hopes are cut down
How can I breathe when you're not around?

"Springtime Red Tulips" by Bo Staloch

+++++

Clarisse has always considered herself a brave person.

She didn’t blink twice when riding into battle. She didn’t blanch when she faced a dozen enemy soldiers alone. She has always been able to push down her fear — to overcome it. To tame it. She prides herself on being able to do so — it's what has made her such a fearsome warrior. 

She’s never felt more cowardly than she does right now.

She ran away from the castle, from Silena, faster than she ever thought possible. She bullied four seasoned guards she trusts into guarding Silena, packed a bag, and saddled up Nisos within an hour. The court meeting hadn’t even finished by the time she galloped out of the courtyard.

In the five days since ‘taking a few personal days,’ Clarisse has been hiding out in her old family home. The estate is much smaller than the royal castle, but it doesn’t feel any more homely than the castle did. She marvels at the empty walls and unlit fireplaces as she walks through the dark stone halls.

This is her father’s home, gifted to him by Queen Aphrodite for his successes on the battlefield. Clarisse grew up here, as did her brothers. No paintings or tapestries hang on the walls. No coats hang on the hooks along the wall. A few weapon lockers litter the hallways, but other than that, it hardly looks lived in. 

The staff was happy to see her return, which brightened her mood when she first got here. When she fled from Silena, she didn’t exactly… have a plan. The only place she could go was home. Luckily, the staff welcomed her in and showed her to her brothers — who look more like men than kids these days.

Even now, as Clarisse watches her younger brothers spar in the courtyard, a heaviness settles on her shoulders. Frank is a few months older than Sherman, though both boys are sixteen. They come from different mothers — neither of which are the same mother as Clarisse’s. But they’re siblings nonetheless. 

Frank looks nothing like Ares, which Clarisse is secretly thankful for. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, with short-cropped dark hair and pale skin. He’s muscular beneath his oversized clothing, and he’s more than capable of wielding whatever weapon he wishes. Sherman is the youngest of them. He takes after Ares a little more than Frank, with his tan complexion and dark hair.

Frank pins Sherman to the ground, grinning triumphantly at his little brother. 

“Alright, alright, lemme up!” Sherman protests, slapping his palm against the cobblestones.

Frank rolls off of him, and both boys spring to their feet. From where she’s been watching, arms crossed over her chest as she leans up against the doorway, Clarisse lets out an ear-shattering whistle.

Her brothers wince, but both of them are smiling when they look at her. Before this visit, she hadn’t seen them in months. She can’t even remember what they talked about the last time they spent time together. She was headed to the battlefields and they stayed behind to live their lives. Since they’re technically too young to enlist, Ares can’t force them to war, yet. Instead, they stay here at the manor and tend to business. 

“Nice headlock maneuver,” Clarisse says to Frank, who accepts the compliment with a grin. Sherman frowns. 

“I almost had him,” Sherman mutters, his bottom lip sticking out. Clarisse tousles his hair. 

“I know you did, kid,” Clarisse says. “Come on, let’s get inside for dinner before it starts pouring.” 

Her brothers follow her inside, eager to escape the oncoming rain. The three of them talk and laugh as they walk through the halls of their empty home. How many times have these halls heard laughter? It can’t be often.

When they slip into their chairs at the long, ornate dinner table, Clarisse can’t help but laugh. The table is massive — easily big enough for twenty people. But Ares has never hosted a dinner or feast here. He only attends such events at Aphrodite’s castle. He never puts the effort into planning his own. 

The servants and staff sit at the table with them, at Clarisse’s insistence. They eat roast duck and potatoes, and for just a moment, the stress eases off of Clarisse’s shoulders. She relaxes into her seat, allowing her shoulders to sag and her jaw to unclench. 

“It’s been nice to have you home,” Frank murmurs. “When it’s just Sherman and I it can get pretty lonely.” 

“I know,” Clarisse responds softly. “I’m sorry I don’t visit more often. Does Ares — Dad — ever come to visit?” 

“Not often,” Frank says, sounding thankful. “He stops in every once in a while to make sure we’re running the place adequately. He likes to yell and berate the staff, then he leaves again. I think he’d rather sleep in tents amongst his soldiers than settle down here permanently.” 

“I think you’re right,” Clarisse agrees. “I saw him last week in the castle. He… well, he threw me in prison for a bit. Roughed me up. He was going to take me with him to war, but…” 

Frank grins, which cuts off her train of thought. Her little brother crosses his arms over his broad chest and lifts a single eyebrow. 

“I heard Princess Piper convinced you to break a bunch of people out of prison,” he says. “You’ve never been that stupid, ‘Risse. Is it true?” 

The desire to tell the truth burns in her chest. Just once, she’d like to speak the truth of what happened. She’s tired of the comments, the judgment, the hatred. People think she’s too fucking stupid to think for herself. Just once, she’d like to tell them it was all an elaborate scheme by a different princess. Clarisse is too proud for this shit. 

“It’s true,” Clarisse says, biting the inside of her cheek. “Piper gave me orders, and I followed them.” 

“That’s not all there is to it,” Sherman says, his words more of a statement than a question. 

“No,” Clarisse agrees. That’s as close to the truth as she’ll get. "It's not."

She knows, logically, her brothers would never betray her. If she told them the truth, she’s pretty sure they’d never speak of it again. But she can’t endanger Silena. She’ll let the world think her an imbecile forever, if she must. Anything for Silena. 

“Fine, don’t tell us,” Sherman mutters. “Why’d you come home now, ‘Risse? War looms on the horizon and the lady you've vowed to protect is about to get married. I’d think you’d be pretty busy in the castle.” 

Clarisse tries to swallow her nerves, but her mouth is suddenly overwhelmingly dry. She downs a glass of wine, desperate for a distraction. When she’s finished, both of her brothers are still looking at her expectantly. 

“Thought you’d be happier to see me,” Clarisse mutters. 

“We are,” Frank says, touching her arm softly. “But it’s not like you to run from a fight, sister. What’s going on?” 

Clarisse doesn’t know how her brothers have figured her out. She knows it’s not exactly in her nature to show up unexpectedly on their doorsteps with tears in her eyes, but still… they could at least pretend to be ignorant. 

“I needed some air,” Clarisse says — and it’s the truth. “Everything has been happening so quickly, and it all sort of hit me at once. There were attacks, an explosion, I almost died… I’m used to battle, but I’m not used to the intricacies of politics and life in a castle. I wish I could just… hit them all over the head when they piss me off. Instead, I have to smile and bow and grovel. It’s exhausting. And then I was thrown in prison, and released, and it all got worse. I thought I had finally found some peace, but…” 

She trails off, thinking of Silena. 

She knows it was cowardly to leave Silena in that castle without an explanation. Without asking for permission to leave. But the news of her engagement had been so sudden. Clarisse acted without really thinking anything through. She needed to get out before she said something she’d regret. 

“People like us don’t often know what to do with peace,” Frank says, suddenly sounding exhausted. “Some people are just born to fight.” 

“What do you mean?” Clarisse asks, though she already knows. 

“It’s not that they’re born brave. It’s not that they’re born strong and invulnerable. It’s just that the universe has decided that this one, this one will have fire and steel in their blood,” Frank says. He meets her eyes, and mournfully says, “We were born to fight, Clarisse. Maybe this is not the life we would have chosen if we’d been given the chance. I know you, sister. Perhaps if you'd been given the choice, you would live a quiet, simple life.” 

Clarisse stiffens. The idea of living a long, happy life is not one she’s familiar with. She’s known for a long, long time that she’s destined to die young on the battlefield, as children of Ares always have before. While others dream of owning land, marrying, and starting a family — Clarisse just hopes someone will remember her after she dies. 

“I’m afraid there is still a bit too much of our father in me,” Clarisse says. “I was born to fight. You know it and I know it. It’s what I do best. It’s all I can do.” 

Frank smiles tiredly and pats her arm again. “I don’t know what you’ve gone through while working for Princess Silena, but I know that it’s changed you.”

Changed is a good word for it. When Clarisse arrived in the castle months ago, she figured she’d just be playing bodyguard to a spoiled princess. She cared for nothing and no one. She was angry, ruthless, and exhausted. She never imagined she would care so deeply for not only the princess, but also the princess’ ideas. 

Clarisse committed treason for Silena. She would do it again in a heartbeat if Silena asked her to. 

Clarisse isn’t mad that Silena is getting married. How could she be? Both she and Silena knew they were doomed from the start. A princess and a knight — they were never going to be together. But for a few nights, Clarisse dreamt of more. She held Silena in her arms and dared to dream of a future.

They hadn’t had enough time. 

A courier stumbles into the dining room, his hair wet with rain. He glances around the room in a panic before his eyes finally land on Clarisse. He bows deeply, then presents her with a letter. 

From the shape and shade of the paper, Clarisse already knows what it is. She’s received hundreds of royal orders in her life. She rips open the letter with little grace or care. Clarisse recognizes the shape and curve of the handwriting before she even sees the signature. The lingering scent of citrus fills her nostrils. 

Lady of Bloodshed, 

We leave for no-man’s-land in two days. I cannot do this without you by my side. If I asked you to, would you come back?

Silena Beauregard

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Clarisse says, meeting her brothers’ eyes. “Duty calls.” 

Frank nods. As Clarisse rises to her feet, he says, “Just promise me one thing, ‘Risse. Whatever has changed you, whatever has made you smile when you think no one is looking… whatever has made you care about your life again, don’t let it go.” 

“I… I’ll try.” 

+++++

Clarisse takes deep, steady breaths before knocking on the princess’ door. It swings open seconds later. 

Rachel grins up at her, a knowing twinkle in her eye. Despite her nerves, Clarisse smiles down at the servant girl. She likes Rachel. 

“I’ll let her know you’re here,” Rachel says. She closes the door behind Clarisse before darting into the bedroom. Days ago, Clarisse would have waltzed right in after her. She’d been confident and comfortable here in the privacy of Silena’s chambers. That was, of course, before she ran away from her duties in an emotional panic. 

Clarisse sits at the small dining table and runs her finger along the grooves in the wood. Someone clears their throat, drawing her attention. 

Silena stands before her in a simple blue dress, arms crossed over her chest. It’s only been five days, but Silena looks different. The bags under her eyes are darker, more pronounced. Clarisse feels a sharp stab of guilt in her chest. 

For a moment, the two women just stare at each other. Clarisse is drinking in the sight of Silena, safe and unharmed. Beyond those dark bags, Silena looks to be okay. Physically. Her long dark hair is braided down her back, a few loose strands hanging in her face. Ink is smudged on her fingertips.  

“Where did you go while you were away?” Silena asks, keeping a safe distance from the table. 

“You don’t care where I was,” Clarisse says, shaking her head. “Let’s not dance around the issue, here.” 

Silena sets her jaw, eyes narrowing on Clarisse. “We leave for Styx Bridge in two days. You’ll need to coordinate with Captain Rhao, of course, to discuss safety issues along the route. Queen Athena will have her own soldiers patrolling their tents when we meet, but I’d like for you to command our security forces.” 

“You… what?” 

“I trust you’ll figure it out,” Silena says, rolling her eyes. “Meet with Rhao tomorrow.” 

She turns to leave, her arms still crossed. This can’t be it; this can’t be all there is to their first conversation since the engagement. Conversation came to them so easily a week ago. Surely that isn’t all ruined? Clarisse lunges out of her chair without thinking. She reaches a hand out to Silena’s arm, holding her in place. Her skin is cool under Clarisse’s fingers. 

“Silena, wait, I…” 

“You left,” Silena says. “Why would you leave me here? Without a word?” 

“I had to,” Clarisse says, shaking her head. “I had to. I did not trust myself to speak carefully. When you… when you told them about the engagement… I couldn’t…”

Words fail her as she looks down into Silena’s blue eyes. She’s never been as good with words as the princess. Silena’s lovely eyes are misty with tears and hurt, and that makes Clarisse’s heart plunge. 

“You do not get to hate me for what I did,” Silena whispers. “You can be angry, but you do not get to hate me.” 

“I’m not angry!” Clarisse snaps. “And I could never hate you. I was surprised, okay? I was with you for three days before you told the court, and you never breathed a word of the marriage to me. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Silena blinks. “Would you have wanted to know?” 

“I…” Clarisse hesitates. Those three days were the happiest of her life. If she’d known about the engagement, would she still have enjoyed them? “I’m your knight. You should have told me.”

“And that’s the only reason you wish to have known? Because of your vows?” 

“No!” Clarisse says. “Stop… stop twisting my words, Silena. I wanted to know because I care about you. I thought you trusted me.” 

“I did. I do.” 

“Then act like it!” Clarisse says, throwing her hands up in the air.

“I cannot!” Silena snaps, her face only inches from Clarisse’s. “Everyone in the castle wants something from me. I do not know who to trust. Every move I make is watched and weighed, either by my mother or my allies. I don’t even know if I can trust them, Clarisse. Now I’m supposed to marry Luke, and I trust him, but what if this all fails? What if my marriage isn’t enough to hold off war? It all rests on my shoulders. Mine.” 

Silena takes a deep breath, her chest rising and falling in rapid heaves. Clarisse opens her mouth to apologize, but Silena cuts her off. “I didn’t tell you because… I care. I wanted to give you as much time as I could. As much happiness. I couldn’t steal those days of joy from you — from us — with the news of my impending marriage.” 

Clarisse clenches her eyes shut, just to keep the tears from falling. It isn’t fair. None of this is fair. Silena is too young, too good, to have the fate of two kingdoms on her shoulders. 

“I’m sorry if I was mean,” Clarisse whispers, not daring to open her eyes. “That’s just my father in me. I don’t want to be cruel, and I don’t want you to think I’m judging you for this marriage. I’m not. I’m sorry I left you here alone.” 

Silena slams into her, arms wrapping around Clarisse. Before she can comprehend it, Clarisse wraps her arms around Silena — hugging her. The princess trembles in her arms; Clarisse holds her tightly, but not so tightly that it hurts. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Silena whispers, her breath hot against Clarisse’s ear. “I should have told you. You deserved to know before the rest of them.” 

Clarisse pulls away, chuckling softly. She presses her forehead to Silena’s, aware of her own trembling hands on Silena’s waist. 

“You came back to me,” Silena whispers the words as if she still doesn’t quite believe them. 

“I always will.” 

“Don’t say that,” the princess says, shaking her head. “I do not deserve this devotion from you. This marriage is proof enough of that. Don’t say things that are not true.” 

“It is true, though,” Clarisse whispers. “We knew this was going to be… difficult when it began. I do not care for you because it’s easy and safe, Silena.” 

“I’ll hurt you,” Silena says. 

“I can bear it.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” 

“It is I who does not deserve you, ” Clarisse says.

Silena laughs, her nose brushing Clarisse’s. They stay quiet for a moment, just enjoying each other’s embrace. Clarisse knows there is no going back to the way things were before. Silena will wed Luke Castellan, and Clarisse will be forced to stand back and watch their marriage grow. They’ll make a handsome couple. Their children will be beautiful and graceful — full of their mother’s determination and their father’s charisma. 

Clarisse knows all of this to be true. She accepts it. She always knew Silena was destined for greater things than her. But for just this moment, she’s going to hold the girl she loves. 

“Where did you go while you were away?” 

“Home,” Clarisse answers. “I saw my brothers.” 

“Was it a good visit?” Silena asks, curiosity lacing her words. 

“It was and it wasn’t,” Clarisse replies. She brushes a piece of hair out of Silena’s face. “Going home reminds me of everything I am — the good, the bad, and the ugly. My brothers are still young and hopeful, and I don’t know how to be around them, sometimes. My father has not yet beat out the light inside them.” 

Silena stiffens in her arms. “He didn’t manage that with you, either.” 

“Perhaps,” Clarisse says, though she isn’t sure if she believes it. 

When they finally untangle from each other, Silena’s smile warms up the coldest parts of Clarisse. They sit at the table together, drinking wine late into the night. Clarisse happily indulges in chocolate cake, which Rachel was nice enough to bring by. The maidservant sits with them, all three women laughing and talking into the early hours of the morning. 

Clarisse tries to memorize the moment, because she’s not sure she’ll ever get to see it again. Everything changes tomorrow. 

When they do all finally split up for bed, Clarisse returns to her own cot. She can’t — won’t — share a bed with Silena again. Whatever was building between them has to die, now. Silena must marry Luke. Clarisse must be okay with it. 

+++++

The next day is spent preparing for the trip to the Styx. There is a small sliver of land on either side of the river that belongs to neither Athena nor Aphrodite. No-man’s-land. This is where the two queens will meet, and though Clarisse has traveled there many times, she still feels uneasy about the meeting. 

It took her nearly all day to plan out the routes and patrols for the Cyprus soldiers. Only when the moon rose did she send her final plans to Captain Rhao — who she knows is unhappy about taking orders from her.

Now, only hours later, she’s riding her warhorse next to Silena’s carriage. Two other mounted guards ride alongside the princess’ carriage, much to Clarisse’s delight. One of them is Michael Yew, an expert archer and brother to Lee Fletcher. He's smaller and mousier than his brother, but the same determination lines his face. The same expertise with a bow. On the other side of Michael rides Nessa, the daughter of the royal blacksmith. She grew up in the castle like her big brother, Charles Beckendorf. While she didn't possess the same gifted hands he did — apparently, the man could make anything in his forge — she's excellent with a sword. 

It feels good to travel with fellow warriors. Clarisse is more than capable of protecting Silena by herself, but the extra pairs of eyes are nice. It reminds Clarisse of the early days in war—when she was bonding with her squadron. Making friends. Laughing over campfires. Crying with her peers. It feels good to be surrounded by friends, especially when those friends are good with a sword. 

Silena, of course, complained and said she’d be fine to ride on horseback, but Aphrodite wouldn’t have it. The queen herself is riding in a separate carriage, which is manned by two foot-soldiers and six mounted soldiers. 

At the front of the caravan, Ares leads a small squadron of warriors. Her father hasn’t even looked at her today. 

They ride for hours, until Clarisse’s legs are sore and back strained from her time in the saddle. Finally, they reach the Styx Bridge. On the other side of it, Queen Athena has already set up her camp. Massive, luxurious tents sprawl across the cliffside. Fires and lanterns are already lit, though the sun is still hours from setting. 

Ares leads their caravan across the river while Clarisse’s heart races in her chest. She glances at Silena through the window of the carriage. Silena’s eyes are trained on the camp. Clarisse knows she’s searching for a glimpse of her sister. 

As soldiers pitch tents and unload carriages, Ares and his men stand guard. None of the folk from Pylos approach. Not even Annabeth, though Clarisse can see her waiting under a canopy only yards away. 

It’s not until Queen Aphrodite exits her carriage that Clarisse catches a glimpse of Queen Athena. The queen of wisdom steps out of her tent and stands next to her daughter. Aphrodite and Silena approach them. Silena looks ready to throw up or pass out. 

“I wondered if you would truly show up, Aphrodite,” Queen Athena muses, loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“I don’t have the patience for your backhanded insults today, Athena,” Aphrodite responds. “Shall we begin, or do you require rest before?” 

Athena smirks. Next to her, Annabeth purses her lips and stares at Silena. 

“Let us begin.” 

+++++

Athena certainly spares no expense when traveling. Her massive tents are cushioned with rugs, chairs, dining tables, and drapes. The Meeting Tent, as Clarisse has decided to call it, is lit with lanterns and candles. The massive circular table in the center of the tent is full of food and drink. Just staring at it makes her stomach rumble. 

The table slowly fills with important people. Athena and Aphrodite sit opposite each other, their daughters next to them. Piper is yet to be seen. Luke sits next to Percy and Annabeth. He smiles kindly at Silena; Clarisse has to look away and gather her thoughts before returning her attention to the table. Hermes, Bellona, and Poseidon — all important members of Athena’s court — sit next to her. Dionysus, Hades, Persephone and others sit next to Aphrodite. Ares lounges lazily in a seat next to the queen. 

Clarisse stands behind Silena, a hand on her sword. After a few moments of tense silence, the meeting begins.

Chapter 16: chapter sixteen

For somebody I thought was my savior
You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
The calloused skin on my hands is cracking
If our love ended, would that be a bad thing?

"Labour" by Paris Paloma

+++++

“You were ready to wage war on my kingdom only a week ago.” 

“Yes, I was,” Aphrodite agrees, sipping her wine. “After you attacked my home.” 

Athena grits her teeth and cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowing on Silena’s mother. They’ve been doing this for an hour, now, and Silena is tired of it. Across the table, Annabeth appears to be barely holding back an eye roll. 

“My queens,” Silena says, sitting up straighter as everyone turns to look at her. “We came here to see past hurts healed. Queen Athena, if you did not attack Cyprus, perhaps you know who did?” 

Athena raises an eyebrow, her grey eyes analyzing and critical as she assesses Silena. Then, she waves her hand through the air. Lady Bellona, Reyna’s mother, withdraws a knife from her cloak. She tosses it onto the table, where it clatters noisily until it comes to rest in the center.

“Is that a threat?” Ares snarls. 

“Shut up,” Bellona says without looking at him. Silena decides, then and there, that she likes Bellona. With a nod of encouragement from Athena, Bellona says, “This is a knife we found on the assassins who attacked our castle on the night of Princess Annabeth’s wedding.” 

It looks like… a knife. The handle is wrapped in worn leather, and the blade is chipped at the end. The metal itself, though, is dark and muddled. It isn’t grey steel, nor celestial bronze, nor imperial gold. It is something else entirely. 

“Did we retrieve any weapons from the attack on our castle?” Silena asks Ares. 

Ares might be an annoyingly proud and arrogant soldier, but he’s no fool. He grumbles and swears under his breath, but places a scythe on the table next to the knife. The metal is the same. 

“What is it, and what does it mean?” Aphrodite asks, sounding bored. 

To everyone’s surprise, it’s Lord Hades who leans forward. His dark eyes are focused entirely on the cool, dark metal. 

“That’s stygian iron,” he says, his voice soft and low. “It is only found in the darkest and most brutal parts of our world.” 

“My scholars said the same,” Athena says, looking delighted to be the bearer of important knowledge. “The minerals needed to make a weapon from stygian iron cannot be found in Olympia. These weapons came from a continent beyond ours, Aphrodite. This is proof that I did not attack you. Someone else has threatened us both.” 

Aphrodite certainly looks intrigued, but she still says, “You could have bought these weapons from another continent. This proves nothing.” 

Athena’s nostrils flare, and Silena can see the anger and pride building up in the other woman. She, herself, is pissed off at her mother. But she can’t let this meeting fail. Silena clears her throat and pours that sickeningly sweet charm into her speech. 

“For a moment, let’s say Queen Athena didn’t try to kill us,” Silena muses. “What then? Do we know where these weapons come from?” 

This time, Annabeth is the one to speak. She looks exceedingly grateful for the change of topic. 

“We are not yet certain,” Annabeth says, shooting a small smile at Silena. “But it is a lead, which is more than we’ve had thus far. I would love to speak with you further, Lord Hades, if you recognize the material.”

Hades nods his head, “As you wish, Princess. I know very little of the metal, but I will offer you all the knowledge I have.”  

Aphrodite scowls, but doesn’t forbid the sharing of knowledge. She and Athena glare at one another, too proud to set their differences aside. Silena swallows nervously as the tension builds in the air. The queens glare at each other, Ares is grinning, and Bellona is reaching for her sword — 

“Let’s talk about my wedding!” Silena says, clapping her hands together. Her forced cheerfulness shatters the tension in the room. Both queens settle back into their seats, their respective war chiefs doing the same. 

“A union between our kingdoms would certainly be advantageous,” Athena says. A few seats away, Luke Castellan beams and leans forward. He smiles kindly at Silena, which makes her feel somewhat more comfortable. “But I will only agree to it if the peace treaties are finalized.” 

“You have not yet agreed to this marriage?” Aphrodite asks, eyebrow raised. “Then who gave that boy permission to propose to my daughter?” 

Silena looks at Luke again, panic searing in her chest. But he just nods coolly, as if he expected this to happen. He stands up, lifting his wine glass as he does. 

“I understand that this engagement has caught you both by surprise,” he says, looking at both of the queens. “I hope you understand this is an intentional action Princess Silena and I are choosing in order to bring peace to our kingdoms. I know there is still distrust and suspicion in the hearts of both rulers at this table. Tonight, we drink together to try and ease some of those past hurts, do we not?” 

Silena raises her glass in a toast and definitely drinks more than is appropriate. 

“You have a silver tongue, boy,” Aphrodite says once Luke has returned to his seat. Her tone is stern, but not nearly as harsh as it could be, which Silena considers a victory. “But you are right. Athena, let us discuss this potential union. Neither of us has to agree to it if we do not see fit.” 

And just like that, Silena’s marriage becomes a token part of the peace treaties. The two queens talk late into the night, discussing their wishes and stipulations if peace is truly to occur. In the end, Athena asks for all armies to be called out of Pylos and a formal apology be given to Princess Annabeth for the misguided accusations and imprisonment. 

“Fair enough,” Aphrodite huffs. She takes a deep drink from her goblet, then says, “Our borders will remain as they are, with this strip of land separating our two kingdoms. Trade between us will commence at once. We will join efforts to find our true enemy — the one beyond our continent.” 

Athena smiles. Silena has never seen the wise queen smile. Though there is no kindness in the expression, it’s striking nonetheless.

“Before we sign this agreement,” Aphrodite murmurs, “I would like to ask one last thing of you. I wish for my daughter to be released and returned to me.” 

Athena’s eyebrows knit together, confusion overtaking her features. “Piper is not a prisoner.”

Silena sits up a little straighter at the mention of Piper. Aphrodite spreads her hands, “I’m glad to hear she hasn’t spent time in your morose dungeons. Still, I wish her to be returned to my court.”  

“That can be arranged.” 

What happens next is something Silena has been dreaming of since she was a child. The newly-crafted peace treaty between Cyprus and Pylos is set before the two queens. They read through it one last time before signing their names to it. Both queens mark the treaty with their royal seals. 

Silena always thought this moment would be more legendary. She pictured this happening in a grand, royal hall surrounded by all of her people. She figured music would be playing, people would be cheering, and she would be sitting on the throne. Tonight, the two queens are sitting at a table in a cramped tent in no-man’s-land. Only a few advisors sit with them. 

Despite the lack of revelry, Silena takes a minute to bask in this moment. In the end, she didn’t have to force her mother from the throne. She only has to marry a man she barely knows! Lucky her. 

Once the treaty is signed, the queens call for another round of wine and food. Silena happily indulges. The stone table is removed from the tent, allowing the two courts to mingle and talk. Ares and Bellona stand on opposite sides of the tent, clearly glaring at each other any chance they get. The others, though, at least try to mingle. 

Silena, with Clarisse at her back, nearly throws herself into Annabeth’s arms. The two princesses laugh and hug each other. 

“I can’t believe it finally happened,” Annabeth whispers. 

“And none of it went according to our plans!” Silena laughs. 

Percy approaches them, a smile stretched across his tan face. He shakes hands with Clarisse before hugging Silena. Luke stands with them, offering Silena small smiles every once in a while. The two of them certainly need to talk, but that can wait for tomorrow. Tonight, Silena intends to enjoy herself and celebrate the newfound peace. 

“We’re not out of the fire yet,” Percy murmurs. “We need to make sure this treaty holds. If there’s another attack, we need to make sure our queens don’t immediately blame each other again.” 

Silena nods, knowing the man is right. But the wine has gotten to her head, now, and she just smiles dopily at her friends. Friends. These people are her friends, aren’t they? She hasn’t had many — she isn’t exactly sure what friendship entails. 

“Where is my sister?” Silena asks. 

“She’s here,” Luke answers with a smile. “She thought it best if she stayed away until the treaty was signed. Will Aphrodite punish her for ‘releasing’ us from prison?” 

“I don’t know,” Silena answers miserably. “I allowed my entire kingdom to blame Piper for what I did that night.” 

“What we did.” 

Clarisse’s voice is low, warm, and comforting. It takes all of Silena’s willpower not to lean into her. The knight steps closer, so that she’s not standing behind Silena but beside her. 

“Thank you for what you did,” Percy says to the knight. “I have to admit, I’m surprised to see you here. And you still hold your position as a knight?” 

Clarisse smirks, “Took a few punches before they concluded that I’m nothing more than a guard dog who follows orders.” 

Silena snorts, which only makes that smirk on Clarisse’s face grow wider. Silena yearns to touch her, to hold her hand or lean into her warmth, but she refrains. There are too many people here to witness them — one being her future husband. Besides, she’s not really sure where they stand, now. Clarisse hasn’t gotten angry or irritable about the marriage, which has been nice, but… but that means it’s really time to let her go. 

“Piper would be happy to see you, I’m sure,” Annabeth says, changing the course of the conversation. “She’s staying in my tent. I’ll walk you there?” 

Silena accepts gratefully and takes the princess’ arm. They walk out of the big tent and into the cool evening air. Silena shivers, goosebumps rising on her arms, as they walk through the camp. It takes them a while to navigate through the various tents, carriages, and wagons, but once they reach Annabeth’s large tent, Silena exhales. The guards let them pass without a word. 

Inside, Piper is lounging in a chair and reading a book. Next to her, Lady Reyna is polishing a sword. 

Silena stops and stares because Piper looks… different. Her hair has been cut recently and hangs just above her shoulders. She isn’t wearing much jewelry, now, and is dressed in pants and a plain linen shirt. She’s still stunning, but now she looks more like herself rather than like Aphrodite. 

When she looks up from her book, Piper’s eyes widen. She drops the book and launches out of her seat, barreling into Silena. They laugh as they embrace, and it’s only then that Silena realizes she’s crying. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Silena breathes. 

Piper pulls away, a smile overtaking her tan face. “I am, I promise. And you? They never suspected you?” 

“No,” Silena says, shaking her head. “Not when you gave them a pretty easy lie to believe.” 

“Who, me? A troublemaker?” Piper grins, holding a hand to her chest. “Never.” 

Silena laughs, and good gods it feels so nice to laugh with her sister. It’s been weeks since they saw each other, and though they’ve been apart longer before, this was torture. Silena spent every night lying awake, knowing it was her decisions that forced Piper away. Their court, their mother, considered Piper a traitor because of something Silena did. 

“I’m so sorry, Piper,” Silena says. “I never wanted you to get tangled up in all of this.” 

Her sister shrugs and returns to her seat, motioning for Silena and Annabeth to sit, too. Clarisse dutifully stands behind Silena, a hand resting on the back of Silena’s chair. 

“I volunteered for this, sister,” Piper says, that playful smile never leaving her face. “I chose this. Not only because you were a better option for Cyprus, but because I needed to get away from our mother.” 

“You’re… you’re not coming back, are you?” 

“No,” her sister says. “I’m the second-born, Silena. I don’t have the same responsibilities you do. I’m going to stay in Pylos for a bit. I might study, or learn the blade. Annabeth has been kind enough to offer me a permanent place in the palace.” 

“But…” Silena splutters, trying to tame the emotions flaring to life in her chest. “What about home? What if I die? You’ll be the heir.” 

Piper recoils as if she’s been slapped. “Let’s not argue over horrible what-ifs, Silena.” 

“You’re doing this for her, aren’t you?” Silena snaps, jutting her chin in Reyna’s direction. To her credit, the warrior doesn’t look fazed. She looks entirely indifferent, which would normally impress Silena. 

“No,” Piper says, though a blush has risen to her cheeks. “I’m doing this for me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I do not want to be trapped in that castle under our mother’s boot!” Piper says, sounding exasperated. “There is more to life than getting married, having babies, and worrying about the throne!” 

Silena’s bottom lip trembles. How could Piper just leave her? Silena always knew her sister was unhappy at home. She wasn’t content, and she wanted different things from life. But she never thought Piper would leave her behind. 

Jealousy. It’s jealousy roaring inside of Silena. She’d give anything to leave her home behind and do as she pleases. Do with her life what she wants. Love who she wants. But that has never been destined for Silena; she is the eldest, the heir. Her future was decided a long time ago. 

“Right. Well. I should get some rest,” Silena says, wiping a hand across her running nose. “I have a wedding to plan tomorrow.” 

“Silena, wait, I didn’t mean—”

“No, you’ve made it perfectly clear that you think my decisions pathetic,” Silena whispers, rising from her seat. She doesn’t dare look at the other women as she says, “I will marry Luke with a smile on my face, sister, and have babies and worry about the throne so that people like you can live your lives. That’s my lot in life. That’s the price I’ll pay.”

“Silena…” 

Silena doesn’t bother snatching up her cloak before she marches to the entrance of the tent. She blinks away her tears and prays Clarisse is following her. She shoves through the tent flaps and exhales deeply. 

Behind her, she can hear Clarisse saying something. “...deserve her. She’s given everything for this.” 

And then her knight is standing next to her, staring at her intently. Silena takes a deep breath and shrugs, not knowing what to say. She appreciates that Clarisse doesn’t give her the old ‘are you okay?’ Instead, Clarisse just walks ahead, motioning for Silena to follow. 

They walk through camp side-by-side under the moonlight. They walk past soldiers gathered around fires; cooks hurrying to and fro to finish breakfast preparations; court members whispering in shadows. Silena doesn’t pay them any attention. She keeps her eyes on the path ahead of her. She shivers violently in the cold air. She suddenly wishes she hadn’t left her cloak behind in Annabeth’s tent. 

Wordlessly, Clarisse unclips her cloak and places it around Silena’s shoulders. It’s warm and long, and it smells like Clarisse. Silena pulls it tighter around herself. 

“I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with her,” Silena mutters. “I should be happy for her.” 

That’s the thing about sisters. Even when you know you’re wrong, sometimes all you can do is fight. Piper is everything to Silena. She’d jump off the cliffside into the River Styx for Piper. She’d go to war for Piper. And she knows, deep down, that her sister would do the same for her. Sisters are good for two things: hating and loving. Silena loves her sister; she hates her sister, too. 

“I don’t know what it’s like to have a sister,” Clarisse says. “But I know that it’s okay to be mad at them, sometimes. Piper loves you, but she doesn’t understand the full extent of what you’ve sacrificed for the kingdoms. It’s okay to be upset with her.” 

“Nobody fights you like your own sister,” Silena says, huffing out a laugh. “Nobody else knows the most vulnerable parts of you and will aim for them without mercy. I thought if anyone could understand why I’ve done what I’ve done, it would be her.” 

“Maybe she will, one day.” 

They walk a little further, deeper into the heart of the conjoined camp. Silena’s tent is close, but she has no desire to go coop herself up for the night. 

“In another lifetime, I’d like to think I’m more like Piper than our mother,” Silena mutters. “Free to do what I wish, without the burden of being the oldest. In another life, I did everything I wanted to and married the one I loved.” 

Clarisse hums, and says, “And who would that have been? Surely not another young lord with pretty smiles and dark eyes.” 

“Mmm, certainly not,” Silena laughs as Clarisse’s grin grows. Silena always notices when Clarisse tries to cheer her up. She makes a fool of herself, tells jokes, or pokes fun at the future when she’s desperate to see Silena smile. Silena loves it. 

“Don’t you wonder what you'd be like if not for the circumstances you were born into?” Silena asks her knight. 

“Of course,” Clarisse answers immediately. “Maybe I would have been a painter.” When Silena snorts, Clarisse grins wider. “Or perhaps a dancer.” Silena laughs even louder this time, which she’s sure is exactly what Clarisse had been aiming for. The knight grins down at her, and says, “Or maybe I would have been allowed to fight for the one I loved.” 

That wipes the smile right off of her face. They’ve stopped walking now. Silena stands in the shadows of her tent and looks up into Clarisse’s face. Her knight never once looks away. 

They hadn’t had enough time.

Silena supposes they could still continue down this path together. Marriage or no, Silena’s heart will always belong to Clarisse. She could pull Clarisse into her tent, kiss her senseless, elicit breathy sighs from her pretty mouth… 

No. No, she can’t do that to Clarisse. She deserves to find a love that is all her own. Silena will be married soon, and Clarisse deserves more than being some hidden affair. 

“Goodnight, Clarisse,” Silena says decidedly. 

Silena leaves Clarisse standing in the shadows, her face lit by the full moon. 

+++++

Silena eats breakfast alone with Luke Castellan. 

They sit in her tent at a small wooden table, eating fruits and pastries. It’s nice, and the conversation comes easily between them. Thank the gods, Clarisse found somewhere else to be this morning. Silena would not have been able to do this in front of her. 

“I know all of this happened rather quickly,” Luke says, “but I hope you know I am excited for our future together.” 

Silence swallows hard and grips the fork in her hand a little more forcefully. Luke isn’t a bad guy. She should be grateful, and she knows it. He’s kind, smart, and handsome. He’s really everything a girl could ask for. 

“I am too,” Silena lies, smiling sweetly. “I think we’ll accomplish much together.” 

Luke grins and pushes his dark hair out of his eyes. “Speaking of which… do you still plan to take the throne from your mother?”

Silena sits up a little straighter, her eyes frantically searching her empty room. They’re alone, technically, but she’s not dumb enough to believe someone couldn’t be listening from the outside of her tent. 

“Ah, no, I guess not,” Silena says, heart racing. “There’s no need for it now that the peace treaties have been signed.” 

“I see.” 

He goes back to stabbing the fruit on his plate, and Silena can’t help but wonder if she’s disappointed him with her answer. To her surprise, she doesn’t really care if she has or not. She used to spend so much time caring about what people thought of her, but… but now it doesn’t seem all that important. That’s something she’s learned from watching Clarisse. 

“Where would you like the wedding to be?” she asks, desperate to take her mind off of Clarisse. 

“Don’t care,” he answers, mouth full of food. “Will I be named your prince-consort at the wedding, or will that happen at another ceremony?”

“I— I don’t know,” she answers honestly, narrowing her eyes on his face. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does,” he says. “My family will need to make sure I’m named consort before they offer you any sort of aide.” 

“We no longer need them,” Silena snaps. The words come out harsher than she’d intended them to, but… 

“We might,” Luke says with an irritating grin. “We can’t trust the queens to keep their word. I think it still makes sense for you and Annabeth to forcefully take your thrones. That way, you can ensure the peace lasts. There will be no need for faulty trust.” 

“I don’t know…” Silena says, wishing this conversation would come to an end. In all honesty, his point makes sense. Why trust Athena and Aphrodite with keeping the peace with Annabeth and Silena could ensure it? But just the thought of taking the throne makes Silena queasy. 

Hasn’t she done enough? Hasn’t all of this been enough? The treaty is signed. Her marriage plans have been finalized. She’s done enough. 

“Think of the good you could do, Silena,” Luke whispers. He leans in closer to her, a mischievous smile playing across his lips. That scar on his face ripples; it only reminds Silena of another face, another scar. “With you on the throne, Cyprus would finally flourish. I would be there to support you. Anyone who dared oppose us would be stopped by the armies my family will give us.” 

Us. The word rings hollow in her ears. She doesn’t want there to be an us. 

“Let’s discuss something else,” Silena says warningly. “The ink on the treaty has barely dried and you’re already discussing more violence.” 

Luke shrugs good-naturedly and doesn’t broach the subject again. They finish their breakfast in silence, though it’s not entirely uncomfortable. Despite Luke’s obvious ambition, he’s still engaging and interesting to talk to. He talks about his life growing up in the palace, and how Annabeth became his sister, of sorts. They had another friend, Thalia, who died of the fever when they were just kids.

From what Silena gathers, Hermes was an absent father. The lord made himself useful to the queen and used those obligations as an excuse not to raise his own son. Luke dedicated his childhood to learning the sword, in the hopes that it might elicit some pride from his father. When that didn’t work, Luke stopped trying. Instead, he leaned on Annabeth and his friends. 

When breakfast is finished, they walk to the meeting tent side-by-side. This time, Clarisse accompanies them. She trails behind them, never close enough to touch. Silena tries not to look at her too often; she doesn’t want Luke to notice the care she has for her knight. But Silena’s eyes still travel to Clarisse’s face when she’s sure Luke isn’t paying attention to her. 

Luke pulls her chair out for her, ever the respectable gentleman. He sits opposite her, next to Annabeth. The others file into the room, sitting around the circular table as they all had the previous evening. Again, Piper and Reyna do not join. 

Once everyone is settled, Athena and Aphrodite give brief speeches on their hopes for the future as allied kingdoms. It’s strange how quickly they’ve begun acting like friends. Silena decides not to think about it too much. 

Everyone toasts to Luke and Silena, wishing them well in their future marriage. 

“I think the wedding she happen sooner rather than later, no?” Athena asks. 

“I agree,” Aphrodite answers. 

After a few more minutes, it’s decided. Luke Castellan and Silena Beauregard will marry in two weeks.

Notes:

oh the joys of sisterhood

Chapter 17: chapter seventeen

Summary:

i think you guys are going to like this one

When my time comes around
Lay me gently in the cold dark earth
No grave can hold my body down
I'll crawl home to her.

"Work Song" by Hozier

+++++

Planning a royal wedding in two weeks should be considered a form of torture. 

Not only must she constantly answer questions about her favorite foods and cakes, but Silena also has to approve the guest list. And the flowers. Does she want roses or hydrangeas? Roses seem more romantic, so she chooses hydrangeas. Aphrodite says no to dahlias. Who gets to sit in the front row during the ceremony? Not Lord Dionysus, for he’ll surely be drunk. Not Ares, because Silena doesn't want to look at him. Hades is too scary. The queens, of course, should be front and center. 

Does she prefer chocolate cake or vanilla? What about her future husband, what does he like? Silena doesn’t know. She doesn’t care, actually. Luke and a few royals from Pylos returned to Cyprus with her, and now live in the castle until the wedding. She supposes that should be a nice thing; her sister is home, as are her friends. Instead, it just makes her feel more claustrophobic. Now she can’t take five steps in her own home without being confronted on some sort of wedding matter or another. 

She reaches a breaking point one week after the peace treaty signing. When the tailor tells her she doesn’t look very good in white since she’s so pale, she loses it. 

“It’s not my fault I don’t have the tan complexion of my mother!” she tells him. He recoils, his hands flying into the air. “Do what you can to make me look good, or get the fuck out!” 

“Princess, there is no need to raise your voice,” he snaps. 

“Don’t patronize me,” Silena growls. “Do your job, or get the fuck out.” 

“Why don’t we take a break for today?” Rachel suggests from a seat on the side of the room. 

The tailor glares at Silena, but nods silently and leaves the room. Silena is standing on a little box, the white poofy dress swallowing her. She refuses to look in the mirror. Instead, she looks down at her friend, who is smiling kindly. 

“I can’t do this,” Silena breathes. “I hate this dress. I hate this wedding. I can’t fucking do this. ” 

Rachel stands up and takes Silena’s hands, whispering soft, soothing words. After a few minutes, Silena’s heart rate returns to normal. She’s able to take deep breaths again. 

“Why don’t you retire early this evening?” Rachel suggests. “Skip dinner and have it in your room. Blame it on a headache. Your mother won’t care, she’s too excited about the parties this week.” 

Oh gods, the parties. Starting tomorrow, every night leading up to Silena’s wedding will feature a new, luxurious party at the castle. Tomorrow morning, Athena and her court will arrive. Annabeth, Percy, and Luke are already here. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” Silena says. “Help me out of this damn thing, will you?” 

Rachel laughs and begins to unlace the back of the wedding dress. It really is a horrid dress. It’s big and poofy, with a tight corset and high neckline. There have to be at least a hundred tiny little buttons on the back of the dress. The veil is ugly and long. It all looks incredibly outdated, but it’s the dress that Athena and Aphrodite could agree on. Which means it’s the dress Silena will wear. 

She’s never really longed for a wedding. Growing up, she knew so many people who had lofty dreams for their weddings. Beckendorf used to talk about having a big, grand party at his future wedding. Thinking about her old friend makes Silena even more upset. She misses him. Katie, another friend of hers, has had her wedding planned since she was ten. 

Silena never really got it. She figured the idea would grow on her the older she got. Now that it’s time for her wedding, she’d kind of bummed out that she’s not even excited about it. Seems like a waste. 

Rachel finally manages to get the contraption off of her. The white silks fall to the floor in a heap, and Silena carefully steps out of it. She tugs on her clothes, yanking the veil out of her hair and tossing it on top of the discarded dress. 

When they step out of the tailor’s workroom, located on the bottom floor of the castle, Clarisse smiles at the two of them. She’s been waiting out here in the hallway for, what, three hours now?

“Thought you might have died in there,” Clarisse says with a teasing smile. 

“I nearly did,” Silena grumbles. 

Rachel and Clarisse trail behind her respectfully as she makes her way to her quarters. At Silena’s request, Rachel darts off to inform the Queen’s handmaidens that Silena will not be joining her for dinner. 

Silena sinks into a chair at her small dining table, safely sequestered in her chambers. Every part of her hurts. She hasn’t sat down since breakfast. Every moment is taken up with planning. When did she last eat? Must have been breakfast. In response, her stomach growls loudly. She doesn't even have the energy to be embarrassed. 

“You look like shit,” Clarisse says. 

“Asshole.” 

Clarisse grins, then retreats to open the chamber doors and flag down a servant. From Silena’s spot at the table, she can’t hear everything her knight says, but she catches a few words; food, cake, wine. Gods, Clarisse is the best. 

Clarisse turns the corner with a smile. She leans up against the wall, arms crossed in front of her. As Silena hears the sound of the door slowly swinging and clicking shut, she realizes with a jolt that she and Clarisse are, for the first time in days, completely, happily, mercifully alone, with no distractions or servants or tailors to interrupt them. 

The thought seems to hit Clarisse at the same time, her gaze growing dark and greedy from her spot across the room. Under Clarisse’s lustful looks, Silena clenches her legs together as heat flushes through her body. It leaves her achy and wanting. All her exhaustion, worry, and anxieties vanish at once, replaced by thoughts of Clarisse beneath her, against her, on top of her. 

She can already feel desire pooling in her as she recalls the feeling of Clarisse underneath her. That morning in bed, those kisses in this very room, seem so long ago, now. She remembers the feeling of Clarisse’s skin under her hands, Clarisse’s hair running through her fingers. 

Clarisse grins, clearly sensing the turn Silena’s thoughts have taken. She slowly takes off her leather gloves and drops them on the table, one at a time. She moves carefully toward Silena and says, “Can I try to ease the tension in your shoulders? I can see the knot from across the room, my lady.” 

Is that why her neck hurts so badly? She nods silently, pulling her hair off the back of her neck. Clarisse moves to stand behind her. For a moment, Silena wonders if Clarisse will even touch her. She didn’t realize how badly she needed this touch, this connection, until just now. If Clarisse walks away, Silena is going to combust. 

And then Clarisse’s strong hands are on her. Her fingers work into the soft, tender parts of Silena’s neck. She knows it’s not sexual; well, it’s not meant to be. Clarisse is a warrior, and she’s trained in the art of caring for her body. She knows the exact places to rub, to press, to stretch in order to make a body healthy again. Silena winces at some of the touches. Gods, she really is tense, isn’t she? 

Clarisse rubs deep circles into the back of Silena’s neck using her thumbs. Her other fingers rest gently on Silena’s shoulders. The knight masterfully works the tension out of her body. It takes every ounce of willpower Silena has not to moan. 

Clarisse hasn’t touched her in weeks. Not since that morning in bed, where they’d nearly gotten to explore more of each other. Again, they’d been interrupted. Even this is not the kind of touch Silena yearns for. She wants more. She wants Clarisse’s hands on other parts of her body. This isn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough. 

She can’t want that anymore. She knows she can’t. She must let Clarisse go. That’s much easier said than done, especially when Clarisse’s hands are on her. Especially when she hears Clarisse’s sharp inhale when Silena lets loose a small moan of pleasure. 

The door to her quarters opens. Clarisse immediately removes her hands from Silena’s neck and steps back. Silena clears her throat. When Rachel turns the corner, she’s accompanied by two other servants and all of them are carrying platters of food. Silena’s stomach growls at the smell. 

“Oh, gods bless you,” Silena says.

Rachel sets the platters on the table before her. There’s chicken, potatoes, greens, and a lovely variety of fruit. 

“Please, join me,” Silena says to her friends. “I can’t eat all this alone.” 

“I don’t know,” Clarisse muses. “From the sounds your stomach is making, I think you could.” 

“You ass! ” Silena protests, though a smile pulls at her lips. Clarisse’s eyes are still dark and ravenous, though Silena knows not for food. 

Rachel and Clarisse laugh and sit at the table with her, piling their plates high with food. Silena loves nights like this. She would take a small, casual dinner with her friends over a fancy party any day. 

+++++

“Do you think he knows what’s in that punch?” 

The last party of the week is going as well as it can, Silena would say. The others were tame and tasteful, but this one… Well, Lord Dionysus is currently dancing on a table in the Great Hall. Queen Athena looks mildly alarmed, but Aphrodite looks delighted. Dionysus thrusts into the air, his hands above his head, and shouts about the loveliness of wine. Silena doesn’t bother hiding her laughter. 

Her fiancé sits next to her at the table, his arm thrown lazily around her shoulders. He’s definitely had a lot to drink tonight, judging by his rosy cheeks and bright red ears. It’s almost endearing the way his body betrays his state of drunkenness. 

“Probably not,” Silena answers him, eyes on Percy. The prince of Pylos is currently scooping a bright red sangria into his goblet as he chats with a member of Cyprus’ court. The sangria is strong. One glass and Percy will be on his ass. “Should we warn him?” 

“Nah,” Luke says, a glint in his eye. “Let him have a little fun.” 

“It will not be fun in the morning,” Silena laughs. “Trust me. I’ve spent my fair share of mornings on the floor of a bathroom because of that sangria.” 

Luke’s eyebrow quirks up, “Really?” 

Silena flushes. “Princesses in Cyprus behave a little more… brazenly than in Pylos. It will take you some getting used to, I’m sure.” 

“I grew up with Annabeth,” Luke says, smirking. “I like bold women.” 

It should please Silena. It should. Here Luke is, claiming he does not care about her boldness. In fact, it sounds like he supports it. But something about his eyes makes her hesitate. 

Luke has not been helpful in the wedding process. He rarely shows up to the meetings. He never attends dinner with her. He only appears when he must. Aphrodite doesn’t even care. In the last week, she’s grown fond of him. It makes sense, of course. He’s charming and handsome; of course, her mother likes him. 

Though he hasn’t outright mentioned overthrowing Aphrodite again since Silena asked him not to, he continually pushes at her boundaries on the subject. When they’re together, he’s always asking her some sort of question about Cyprus’ armies or history or trades. Silena isn’t sure why it bothers her so much. 

“When we wed tomorrow, will we move into bigger quarters together?” he asks before lifting his goblet to his mouth again. 

“I… I suppose so, yes,” Silena answers, though she hadn’t considered it before. No longer will it be Silena and Clarisse in the chambers together. Now it will be Silena and her husband. Luke will live here permanently after the wedding. He will become her prince-consort, and one day, her king-consort. He’ll never have the kind of political power she does, but… but he’ll certainly have power. Something tells her he won’t just sit by and roll over as Tristan does with Aphrodite. “Will you miss living in Athens, in the castle?”

“No,” he answers immediately, his lips curling into a snarl. “It was never a home to me.” 

“Why is that?” 

Luke doesn’t answer. Instead, he gazes out across the dance floor again. Silena tries not to squirm out of his grip. She leans into him instead, trying to find something about him that she can romanticize. She likes his hair, she supposes. It’s dark and a little curly, and it certainly suits him. The unfortunate part about looking at him and trying to find something she likes is… it all just comes back to Clarisse. 

Clarisse has nicer hair. Prettier eyes. A nicer smile, and certainly a better laugh. Her hands aren’t clammy like his are. Every time she tries to find something enjoyable about him, she just compares him to Clarisse. And every time, Clarisse comes out on top. No one compares to her. It’s torturous. 

Silena sighs and glances around the room. Her sister is dancing in the center of the room with Annabeth. They laugh and chat as they whirl around the dance floor. Percy and Reyna are watching from the crowd. Aphrodite and Athena are sitting at the head of a dining table, both women eyeing the room with analytic eyes. Those two are more alike than they realize. 

“When do you expect to become queen?” Luke asks softly. 

“I don’t know,” Silena snaps. “Hopefully not for some years, yet.” 

“Years? Why years?” 

“If I am queen, that means one of two things. Either my mother is dead, or she is in prison because of me,” Silena snarls. “Neither of those is enjoyable.” 

Luke shrugs, as if conceding to her point. He smiles lazily, “I cannot help but notice your lack of ambition, Silena. You know what I could offer you.” 

“Yes, I do,” Silena says. “But you need not hurry the day along, Luke. Your armies can be put to better use tracking down the people that did attack us. That’s what we should all be concerned about.” 

“Speaking of which, I have something to tell you,” Luke murmurs. “My scouts just returned to me this morning with information. I think we have a lead on the identity of those who attacked.” 

“Really?” Silena whispers, leaning in. “Why hasn’t a meeting been called to discuss it? This is of utmost importance.” 

“My dear, we’re getting married tomorrow. This can wait two days.” 

No, it can’t. If he has information regarding their enemies, it needs to be shared. Ares and Bellona could be building a joint task force right now to take on the threat. Why doesn’t Luke get that? 

“Will you share the information with your bride, at least?” Silena says, pulling out one of her sickeningly sweet smiles.

He smiles down at her. “Of course, dear. But it is troubling news. I do not wish to burden you with it.” 

“I can handle it,” she grinds the words out, trying to sound upbeat and positive. In reality, she’s considering smacking him across the face if he doesn’t tell her what’s going on in the next five fucking seconds.

“We think the masked assassins come from a continent to the east,” Luke says. “The ruler there is famous for two things. The first is the sheer power of his armies. They are rumored to be full of monsters — not people. Creatures and beasts from folk tales walk amongst his armies.” 

Silena swallows, thinking back to that creature that attacked her on the road to Pylos so many weeks ago. Clarisse said she’d seen such things before. But to have an army of such creatures… 

“The second thing he’s famous for is his land. It is full of stygian iron.” 

Silena swallows. “Who is this king?” 

“His name is Kronos,” Luke murmurs. “He is an enemy unlike one Cyprus or Pylos has ever faced.” 

Around them, the great hall is full of golden light and raucous laughter. But the news settles heavily on Silena’s shoulders. An evil king with an army of monsters keeps trying to kill her and her family. Great. 

When the song ends, Silena makes an excuse and leaves Luke sitting at the table. She needs a minute away from him. She needs to clear her head. Clarisse moves through the crowd to stand behind her, ever the shadow. 

Silena makes her way to the dessert table, desperate for some sort of carb to soak up the alcohol in her stomach. A new song starts playing, this one much more upbeat than the one before. 

Piper stumbles toward the table, a little breathless from her most recent dance. She’s dressed in a stunning blue dress tonight, her choppy hair pulled into a half-up half-down style. Piper pulls Silena into a quick hug. 

“Are you nervous?” Piper whispers. A few months ago, she asked the same question before Silena was named heir to the throne. 

“Terrified,” Silena answers honestly. She’s not sure if she’s terrified of marriage, of her husband, or of this fearsome King Kronos. Maybe all three. 

“I’m proud of you, you know. What we said to each other in that tent…” Piper says. Silena stiffens, remembering every detail of their squabble. Piper sighs, suddenly looking tired. “I know that the world expects different things from you, since you’re the eldest. I’m sorry that I do not always understand your choices.” 

It’s the best apology she’s going to get from Piper, and Silena’s okay with that. She takes her sister’s hand and squeezes it. 

“I know, Piper,” Silena whispers. “Thank you.” 

“Do you want to marry him?” 

The question takes her by surprise. Silena opens her mouth, closes it, and looks at her sister with wide eyes. Piper nods, as if that answered her question. “I thought not,” she says. 

Before Silena can ask her what that means, Piper kisses her cheek again and wanders back to the dance floor. As Silena watches her go, she sees Piper take Reyna’s hand and tug the warrior onto the dance floor. A slow, romantic song is playing. 

Silena turns away from the party to face an empty wall, tears welling in her eyes. Clarisse’s hand is on her shoulder only moments later. Clarisse squeezes her shoulder twice. 

“Talk to me.” 

“I want to dance with someone I care about,” Silena whispers the words, still unable to face her. “But I don’t want to dance with Luke.” 

“I know.” 

The mournful tone in Clarisse’s voice nearly wrecks Silena. Finally, she manages to master her tears and turns around to face the woman. Clarisse is dressed in dark leather, tonight. Dark pants, a white linen shirt, and a dark leather coat. Her hair is down, hanging in those lovely curls. Her sword and spear are still with her, of course, but tonight she has forgone the armor. A white dahlia is pinned to her coat. 

“Dance with me,” Silena whispers. 

“I can’t,” Clarisse responds, though her lips pull into a smile. “You know that.” 

Silena glances around the room, looking for anyone who might miss her for more than a few minutes. Not even Luke is looking at her. Across the room, he looks to be engaged in a conversation with Percy. 

Silena grabs Clarisse’s hand and pulls her through the crowds of people, out of the Great Hall. They slip past a few drunken revelers into the courtyard gardens. The large doors of the great hall are opened to the evening air, and the music floats down to meet them in the empty courtyard. 

Clarisse turns her head, locking eyes with Silena. And that was probably a mistake, because the instant Silena glimpses the clear desire in Clarisse’s eyes, her breathing turns ragged. Unthinkingly, Silena’s eyes drift to Clarisse’s lips as she feels that telltale warmth spread throughout her body.

“Do you still want to dance?” Clarisse asks, her voice low and hushed and suggestive. 

Silena, dumbfounded and entirely too flustered, can only nod her head eagerly. Clarisse scans the courtyard again, warily looking for anyone who may see them. A breeze pushes through the empty space, and Silena shivers in the cool evening air. Only when the knight is fully convinced they’re alone does she step closer to Silena, offering her a hand. 

Clarisse’s fingers are warm, even through the leather gloves. Silena carefully guides that hand to her waist then places her hands on Clarisse’s shoulders. When her eyes find Clarisse’s, she forgets all about the cold, the stress, and the palace looming behind them. 

Clarisse slides her other hand around Silena’s waist, pulling her the littlest bit closer. Silena looks up at her face as they begin to move — a slow step, then another. They move slowly, carefully, as they ease themselves into the steady rhythm of the dance. 

Clarisse stares back at her, neither of them smiling. Somehow, Silena is beyond smiling at the moment. The music builds, louder and faster, and Clarisse surprisingly steers Silena into the dance, never once stumbling. Silena had no idea her knight knew how to dance.

Silena’s breathing turns uneven as they whirl across the cobblestones of the courtyard. She can’t look away from Clarisse. The moonlight and the courtyard and the golden glow from the great hall blur together; the only thing in focus is Clarisse’s face. 

The music explodes around them, reaching the crescendo of the song. Clarisse spins her so that her lavender gown fans out around her. Each step is flawless. Lethal. Just like Clarisse. 

The rest of the world quiets into nothing. The stress of the week fades away. Silena does not think of her wedding, or her husband, or her future. For just a few minutes, she is free. 

+++++

Clarisse has never enjoyed dancing. She learned how to do it because she had to, not because she wanted to. Learning the footwork in a dance is a lot like learning footwork in a fight, actually. 

But tonight, dancing with Silena… she’s starting to see the appeal. They whirl through the empty courtyard as if they’re the only two people in the world. For a second, Clarisse believes they are. 

The song comes to an end, though, as all good things do. The two of them stand in the center of the cobblestones breathing heavily, eyes on each other. The soft touch of Silena’s fingers on her neck is overwhelming. Her skin burns, pleasantly, wherever Silena touches her. The desire coursing through Clarisse is so strong, it takes all of her training and willpower not to pull Silena into a dark corner. 

Silena carefully removes her hands from Clarisse’s neck. Clarisse lets go of her waist, returning her own hands to the hilt of her sword. The silence stretches out between them, though not uncomfortably so. 

“They’ll be missing you inside,” Clarisse finally says. 

“Let them.” 

Clarisse snorts, always finding that defiance in Silena so attractive and endearing. Silena smiles at her and reaches a hand out to straighten the flower pinned to the front of Clarisse’s coat. A dahlia. In recent weeks, the flower has come to mean something to Clarisse. She used to laugh and poke fun at girls who liked flowers. Her father never let her enjoy ‘feminine’ things. Now, though, this flower stands as a constant reminder of Silena. 

“Where will you be standing tomorrow?” Silena asks. 

“Er, what?” 

“During the ceremony. Where will you be standing?” 

“Oh,” Clarisse says, still somewhat confused. “I’ll be near the front, off to the side. There will be guards stationed everywhere in the gardens, though, so you don’t have to worry about an attack. I won’t allow that.” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Silena says with a soft shake of her head. “I just wanted… well, I just wanted to know where to look. To find some courage.” 

Clarisse understands immediately, and the thought warms her. She knows her face is flushed. She can feel the heat in her cheeks and ears. 

“You’ll do great,” Clarisse tells her. It feels strange to say those words about a wedding. Shouldn’t such affairs be stress-free? Joyful? Clarisse wouldn’t know. The only wedding she’s been to is Annabeth’s, and that certainly didn’t end well. “Just, uh, don’t trip, I guess.” 

Silena laughs softly, her breath fogging in the cool air. The princess shivers. 

“I told you, once, that I belong to no one but you,” Silena murmurs, not looking at her. “No kingdom or throne or people. I want you to know that’s still true. I might be getting married tomorrow, but I have only ever longed for you. That will never change.” 

It’s like a punch to the gut. All Clarisse wants to do is hold her. Comfort her. Kiss her. But she can’t, and she knows that. There is a castle full of guards and royals only yards away. They’d been lucky enough not to get caught dancing, but… Clarisse will not endanger Silena by reaching for her. 

“My feelings haven’t changed, my lady,” Clarisse whispers the words, loud enough only for Silena to hear. The princess looks up at her with those big blue eyes. “I would be your secret affair forever, if you’d have me. I’d be your maidservant if it kept me close to you. I know this marriage is not what you want, but I know it is what you must do. If you’d have me, I’d do whatever job necessary to stay by your side.” 

Silena shudders, clenching her hands at her side. Clarisse has to do the same — to keep herself from reaching for Silena. 

“They would call you my whore,” Silena huffs out a laugh. “It is not a life, Clarisse. You deserve to move on and find love elsewhere. I can’t offer you a future, but I can offer you retirement if you wish it.” 

Clarisse knows, logically, that Silena is right. Once Silena marries Luke, Clarisse will be forced to watch over both of them. Her job as a knight will not end. She will still be required to follow the couple around; to protect them both. Her primary duty would be to Silena, of course, but she’d still have to interact with Luke. 

What Silena is offering her now… retirement. An easy way out of her job. Clarisse could go to the countryside, to her father’s estate, and live with her brothers again. She wouldn’t have to look at Luke and Silena every day. She wouldn’t have to see their kids grow up. She would be free to live her own life and maybe find love again in the future. 

But. 

“I don’t want a future if you’re not in it.” 

“Clarisse.” 

Silena’s voice is stern, but Clarisse can hear the subtle tremble in the word. Damning the consequences, Clarisse takes hold of Silena’s hands and kneels before the princess. Silena’s sharp intake of breath is the only sound in the courtyard. 

“Do not send me away,” Clarisse begs. “I go where you go.” 

“Clarisse.” 

A single tears slips down Silena’s face, and it nearly breaks Clarisse’s heart. She hates seeing Silena like this; in such obvious pain. 

“Please,” Clarisse begs again. 

“I am trying to offer you a way out of this!” Silena whispers. “It would be selfish of me to allow you to stay. I would be doing it for myself.” 

“Then be selfish,” Clarisse growls. “Do you think I care what they’ll call me? Your whore, your knight, your servant… it matters not to me. As long as I am yours.” 

“You fool,” Silena whispers, another tear slipping down her face. 

“Perhaps,” Clarisse admits, a smile coming to her face. She kisses the top of Silena’s hand, then turns it over and presses a kiss to her palm. When she stands up, she allows Silena’s hand to slip from her own. 

Behind them, the sounds of revelry and celebration continue on. Clarisse is sure that the party-goers are missing the princess. They’re going to notice the bride-to-be is missing, soon. Instead of voicing her concerns, though, she stares down at Silena. 

“Allow me to stay, Silena.” 

Silena’s lower lip trembles. Beneath the fear, Clarisse is almost sure that Silena looks relieved. When the princess nods her head, agreeing, Clarisse beams. She offers the princess her elbow. Silena exhales deeply, wipes a few stray tears from her face, and takes her arm. 

“Come, my lady. They’ll be looking for you.” 

Notes:

the unwavering devotion Clarisse has to Silena is something so personal to me

Chapter 18: chapter eighteen

Summary:

wedding day!

I will hold your hands, to stop them from shakin'
If it takes all night, I will be on your side

"On Your Side" by The Last Dinner Party

+++++

Silena really, truly hates her wedding gown.

It’s a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, so unlike the gowns she usually wears. She doesn’t mind a corset now and then, but this one is so tight it feels like each breath could be her last. The bodice of the wedding gown is fitted, the neckline so high it covers every bit of skin from her chest to her chin. The skirts look more like a sparkling white tent than a dress. Silena might have been able to deal with the horrifying thing if it weren’t for the puffy, capped sleeves so big she can see them from the periphery of her vision. Truly horrifying.

Piper purses her lips as Silena steps out of the dressing room. Silena glares at her sister, daring the other girl to make a single rude comment. Luckily, her sister says nothing. Rachel and a few other maidservants arrange Silena’s hair in a tight updo, with glittering pins and jewels woven into it. 

Silena decides not to look in the mirror before descending the steps of her tower. Her dress hisses and swishes with every step. The castle is empty as Silena and Piper walk the halls. Everyone is already seated, waiting for the ceremony to begin. 

Silena pauses behind the shut doors to the gardens. Her father, Tristan, stands there with a grin on his face. Annabeth and Percy will walk out first, representing Luke’s family. Then Piper, Silena’s only bridesmaid. If Beckendorf were still here, Silena would have asked him to be her best man. 

She shakes her head clear of those thoughts, instead focusing on the sounds of music playing in the gardens beyond. Piper kisses her cheek before stepping out of the doors and walking down the aisle. 

“Don’t be nervous,” Tristan says, eyes sparkling with tears.  

“I’m not,” Silena snaps at her dad. 

“You’re fidgeting like Piper during a haircut,” he says. He brushes a strand of hair out of her face. “You look beautiful, honey.”

Silena snorts, which makes her father’s grin widen ever so slightly. Yeah, she’s pretty sure her dad has the same opinion of her dress as she does.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I always hoped you’d sound happier on your wedding day,” he murmurs. 

Silena tries not to wince but fails. She wants to appear strong for her father, for all of her family, but she can’t help the gloom from showing through right now. She takes a deep breath and smooths down the multitude of skirts. She plasters a fake grin on her face, which makes her Dad laugh loudly. 

He offers her his arm, and she takes it gratefully. This damn dress is so heavy. She can barely keep her balance in this contraption. 

The large oak doors to the garden open. For a moment, she’s totally blinded by the bright afternoon sun. When her eyes adjust, she sees nearly 400 seats full of people she doesn't know. Four hundred people rise to their feet, all eyes on Silena. Her breath catches in her throat as she surveys the shimmering decorations lining the garden. 

Luckily, her father takes a step forward, reminding her she actually has to walk down the aisle. 

Ignoring the pounding of her heart, the sweat on her hands, Silena looks toward the dais— toward Luke. Her soon-to-be-husband looks handsome, in a suit of black and gold. His dark hair is swept to the side, a soft smile waiting on his face. 

Silena tries to keep her vision narrowed on him. On her future husband. But with every agonizing step she takes, it gets harder to look at him. Silena’s eyes dart around the gardens, looking for… looking for her. 

Clarisse stands to the right of the dais, a hand on her sword. She dressed up for the wedding, it seems. She’s dressed in dark trousers, gleaming black boots, and a white linen shirt. It’s unlaced at the top, showing a bit of her tanned collarbones. Her leather coat is a nice, deep red. The color flatters her. For just a moment, their eyes lock. 

Last night comes back to her in flashes as she slowly glides down the aisle. Clarisse’s hand in her own. Clarisse leading her through that dance, hidden away from spying eyes. Clarisse begging to stay. Silena hadn’t had the strength to send her away. 

Silena forces her gaze to return to her fiancé. Luke smiles broadly, his shoulders back, chin lifted high. Every step seems to happen too fast, propelling Silena toward the dais and Luke. Toward a future she does not want — not even a little bit. 

Silena turns her eyes to the crowd, looking for any sort of familiar face. She eyes Percy and Annabeth sitting near the front. Her friends are sitting together, smiling. Even Rachel is here — standing at the very back with a few of the other household servants. 

White flower petals are scattered down the aisle, but so are red poppy petals. They look strikingly like red droplets of blood. 

Silena takes the last few steps toward the dais, and then she and her father stop. Tristan kisses her cheek, then steps away to stand next to Piper. Silena ascends one step up the dais. With ten more ahead of her, she stops. 

Her heart beats wildly in her chest. She glances to her right, ever so slightly, and sees Clarisse watching her. The smile on her face is so forced. Silena knows her knight is trying to appear calm, cool, and collected for her benefit. But Silena knows Clarisse too well; she can see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her smile. Clarisse is barely holding it together — just like Silena. 

On the dais, Luke clears his throat. It’s a clear signal; come on, he’s silently telling her. Don’t back out now. Luke extends a hand to her, dark brows narrowing slightly. Silena’s heart beats so fast in her chest; too fast. 

She’s going to vomit. Right here, in front of 400 people. Right on top of those poppy petals. 

Silena is used to being cold when outside in the autumn, but suddenly the fading afternoon sun feels too hot. Her dress is too heavy, too thick. A cage. Her dress is a cage, as her marriage is going to be. She does not love Luke. She cannot love Luke; he is a man, and she cannot love men. Her heart belongs to someone else, and it always will. 

Silena’s chest rises and falls in rapid succession as she desperately tries to breathe. Luke takes a step down, reaching for her. “Silena,” he says. He rushes through the syllables of her name, muddling it. He doesn’t say it like Clarisse does; like it’s a thing to savor. 

She closes her eyes. She has to do this. She has to, because this is the price she must pay for peace. She must do this. 

She opens her eyes, plasters a smile on her face, and takes Luke’s outstretched hand. 

The bishop — a fat, withered old man — begins his traditional speech as the couple stands side by side on the dais. Luke’s grip on her arm is strong, but not painful. The bishop talks about the beauty and strength of love, which is comical since Luke and Silena are certainly not in love. But no one else knows that, she supposes. 

Silena can barely breathe much less pay attention to all of the words spilling out of the old man’s mouth. She tries to focus on his face, but no, that won’t do. She settles her gaze on the flower archway behind the bishop. It really is a beautiful thing, standing nearly eight feet tall. 

“...for the vows, my princess.” 

Silena blinks a few times, trying to pull herself out of her thoughts. Gods, she really should have been paying more attention. What part of the ceremony are they at now? Surely they aren’t waiting for her to say something. Luckily, the bishop continues talking before Silena can say something stupid like “um.” 

“Repeat after me, Princess Silena,” he instructs. “The exchanging of vows is a public display of your intentions to remain true and faithful in your marriage.” 

Silena stares down at her bouquet. White flowers are braided together into the bouquet— 

Dahlias. They aren’t lilies or hydrangeas or roses, all of which Aphrodite would have preferred over Silena’s favorite flower. They’re dahlias. With a pang in her chest, Silena ignores the desire to look over her shoulder at her knight. Somehow, she knows Clarisse is behind this. 

Slowly, as the bishop speaks the vows Silena will repeat to her future husband, Silena draws her eyes up from her bouquet. She grips them a little tighter in her hands, hoping Luke can’t hear the very audible crunch of the stems tightening. 

“...until death does us part.” 

Silena takes a deep breath, looking into Luke’s eyes as she begins.

“I, Princess Silena Beauregard, heir to the throne of Cyprus, do take you, Luke Castellan of Pylos, to be my lawfully wedded husband,” Silena says. “From this day forth, until death does us part.” 

It's strange how un-romantic these vows are. Her own improvised vows to Clarisse were more lovely than this. 

Luke’s grin grows wider on his face. He looks to the bishop, apparently eager to complete his own vows. His eagerness should be endearing, right? This man is excited to marry her. She’s the only one here who seems particularly gloomy today. 

Luke turns to face her, lips parting as he prepares to speak his vows. Silena’s palms grow even sweatier than before. Wait! she wants to tell him. Don’t say it! Don’t seal this deal! 

Before her groom even gets the chance to speak, a horrifying screech splits the air. Luke turns his eyes to the sky, eyes narrowed. The crowd murmurs, some looking over their shoulders for the perpetrator of the noise. Silk streamers laden with lanterns of golden light twinkle to life above the crowd as the sun finally dips below the horizon.

Instead of watching the crowd, or looking for whatever caused the noise, Silena finds herself looking at her future husband. His grip on her hand has tightened. He searches the skies, eyes widening. He looks… angry? Irritated? 

He looks back at her, and very impatiently, says, “I, Luke Castellan, take you, Princess Silena—” 

A BOOM of thunder cracks behind the dais. Silena is thrown to the side by some force. She tumbles down the stairs of the dais, head over heels, until she’s lying on the ground. People are screaming. All four hundred of her wedding guests leap from their seats and start running, though Silena has no idea why.

She tries to push herself to her feet but finds that her entire body is in pain. Gods, did she break something? She reaches a hand up to her face, only to find a dribble of blood coming from her nose. Well, that’s certainly embarrassing. 

Someone rushes past her, drawing a sword, and that’s when Silena realizes it hadn’t been thunder that tossed her from the dais. It was an explosion. She looks up at the dais to find Luke yelling at someone; someone cloaked in shadows. The bishop is dead, lying on the ground with half of his face blasted off. 

Good gods, are they under attack again? 

Silena tries again to get to her feet. She manages it but finds herself wobbly and disoriented. She can barely hear anything, only a faint ringing in her ears. People push past her, some still screaming and others calling out orders. 

If this is an attack, from that guy Kronos that Luke mentioned, where are his assassins? Silena looks around the gardens, around her ruined wedding, and sees no masked assassins leaping from trees. 

Dear gods. 

Instead of assassins, she sees terrifying monsters. Fanged monsters with talons rip into her wedding guests, splattering the white flowers and silk decorations with blood. Some of them are winged, others hooved. All of them have horribly large teeth. 

Silena stumbles back, panic rising in her chest. Luke said… Luke said the evil king had an army of monsters. And here it is. 

A beast with leathery wings and a vaguely humanoid face lands in front of her, teeth bared. The thing screeches before launching itself at her. She has no weapon or shield to protect herself. Silena holds her arms up in front of her and closes her eyes, resigning herself to her fate. 

The unmistakable shriiink! of a sword being drawn slices through the muddled sounds of panic in her ears. She opens her eyes and finds herself not dead, nor a pile of bloody ribbons. Instead, she seems to be perfectly unharmed, because Clarisse La Rue is standing in front of her. 

Clarisse has discarded her red coat. She stands in front of Silena in the fading light of the sunset, sword held high, as she battles the leathery bat-demon-monster-thing. The creature swoops and dives, staying out of reach of Clarisse’s sword. 

Finally, when the thing makes a dive at Silena, Clarisse slams her sword into the creature and sends its head rolling through the grass. The victory is short-lived, because another demon comes prowling toward them. This one is familiar. It’s the same kind of monster Silena watched Clarisse beat so many weeks ago, when they were traveling to Annabeth’s wedding. What had she called it; a leucrocotta? 

Clarisse grabs Silena’s hand and hauls her away from the monster, through the crowd. Silena trips and stumbles because of her dress. As they push through the crowds, Silena watches as her wedding guests do their very best to fend off the monster attacks. Most of it is in vain, though. None of them, not even the soldiers standing guard, know how to beat such creatures. 

Clarisse shoves Silena into an alcove, not unlike the one they kissed in weeks ago. Silena is trembling, and she can feel hot tears falling down her face. 

“I’m sorry,” Clarisse says, eyes wide and frantic. “I’m sorry, Silena. I’m sorry. I thought if there was another attack, it would be people, not… not…” 

Clarisse doesn’t say anything else. Can’t. Her face is splattered with blood, a fresh gash spilling blood down her neck. Silena knows she needs to get her shit together, but she can’t. She’s never seen anything like the monsters that are attacking the garden. 

“It’s not…” she trails off, unable to finish the sentence. Silena clears her throat, and musters the last remaining bit of her courage, and says, “It’s not your fault. It’s Kronos. He’s the one behind these attacks. Luke warned me he had an army of monsters, but… but I thought we had time. ” 

“How did Luke learn of this?” Clarisse asks, pushing Silena further into the alcove when one of those demon bats flaps through the air above them. Luckily, it doesn’t spot them. 

“I don’t know,” Silena answers honestly. Clarisse is pressed up against her tightly, shielding her from sight. She smells of blood. Of death. A terrible thought dawns on her. “Where are the queens?” 

Clarisse shakes her head. “I don’t know. When the explosion went off, I only looked for you.” 

“We have to find them,” Silena says, though her head is still spinning. “They both have to survive. Both of them.” 

Clarisse nods once, understanding immediately the dire situation they’re in. She steps out of the alcove, into the evening, and pulls her spear from its place on her back.

“I don’t suppose I can convince you to get on a horse and ride away from here, can I?” she asks. 

“No,” Silena answers, though she is tempted to do so. She’s never been one to run from a challenge, but this… this terrifies her more than she’d like to admit. “Give me a knife.” 

Clarisse draws a dagger from her weapon belt and hands it to Silena. It feels awkward and heavy in Silena’s hands, but it does make her feel a bit better. She looks down at her dress; at her cage of tulle and silk. 

“Get this damn thing off of me,” she tells Clarisse. 

Her knight moves swiftly and silently to stand behind her. It had taken Rachel and the other servants nearly two hours to button and lace Silena into this cage. It takes Clarisse all of ten seconds to rip right through the fabric. Silena will swoon over that another time. Silena steps out of the cage, dressed only in her thin white shift dress. It’s lacy and delicate —  a gift for your husband, Aphrodite told her — and does nothing to ward off the autumn chill. It was not meant to be seen by anyone else, only her husband right before their wedding night. 

She’s sort of glad, then, that Clarisse gets to see her in it. Clarisse swallows hard and looks away. “Let’s go. Stick close to me.” 

Silena does as told. Clarisse leads her back to the garden, where demon bats are still dive-bombing the survivors. Wedding guests, soldiers, and servants lie in the grass, their blood wetting the gardens. There have to be at least twenty casualties, from what Silena can see so far. 

Bile rises in her throat. She has to choke it back down. “Harpies,” Clarisse whispers, pointing at one of the winged demons. 

Her knight picks up a bow from a fallen guard and nocks an arrow, aiming for the nearest harpy. She shoots with mastery; the winged bitch falls from the sky with a screech. Silena has heard stories of harpies, but she always thought they were just folk tales. Legend. Myths. She didn’t know they were real. 

Clarisse steps over the bodies scattered across the gardens as they look for the queens. Thankfully, Silena doesn’t recognize any of the corpses they pass. 

“This is the second time we’ve been attacked here,” Silena whispers. “How does this keep happening?” 

“There has to be a spy in the castle,” Clarisse answers, eyes narrowing on a dark shadow yards ahead of them. “Someone is feeding our enemies information.” 

Before they can discuss the issue further, three harpies appear above them in the skies. Fuck. Clarisse immediately throws her spear at one, but the harpy dodges and dives. Two of them aim for Clarisse, who now only has one weapon. The third, unfortunately, sets its gaze on Silena. 

Standing in her shift and armed with a dagger she has no idea how to use, Silena swallows hard. The harpy launches at her with a screech. This time, she doesn’t stand still in fear. She jumps to the side, out of its path, and slashes at it. Her dagger slashes through the air, never hitting the harpy. But the monster seems a bit more wary of her, now. Its eyes narrow on her, talons glinting in the lantern light. 

It flaps toward her again, talons outstretched for her face. She slices upward with the dagger, catching the harpy in the wing. It screams and slams into the ground. It flaps its wings but to no avail. Silena’s dagger tore right through its wing. 

Silena stands over it, anger burning in her chest. The monster sort of looks like a giant, evil chicken if you squint hard enough. Silena has never taken a life, but as she jumps on top of the harpy and slams her dagger into its chest, that’s the furthest thing from her mind. 

She keeps stabbing the harpy until it finally stops moving. 

Silena kneels over the body of the monster and breathes heavily. Her limbs are numb where they hang at her sides. Her body is warm. With rising horror, she realizes that warmth is from the blood that now coats her. It seeps down the front of her dress, some of it splattered on her neck and face. 

A hand on her back brings her to her senses. She scrambles away from the carcass and into the arms of Clarisse. The knight holds her tightly, arms wrapped protectively around her. When they do break apart, Clarisse nods to her in approval. That approval, that lack of revulsion, makes Silena’s breathing return to normal. 

They creep through the gardens, careful to stick to the shadows. The survivors of the attack seem to have run for the Great Hall, so that’s where Clarisse and Silena go, too. 

Inside, chaos greets them. No one seems to know what to do. Some people are injured; others are sobbing. The queens are nowhere to be seen. Percy and Annabeth are doing their best to calm people, but it doesn’t seem to be going well. 

Piper and Reyna are sitting at a table hand in hand. Reyna’s armor is bloodied; Piper’s face is bruised. But they’re both alive, and that’s all that matters to Silena. She lunges into her sister’s arms. 

“Oh gods, I thought you were dead!” Piper says, a sob ripping free of her. Silena holds her tightly, finding hot tears streaking down her own face. 

“Have you seen the queens?” Silena asks. 

Piper nods, not letting go of Silena. “Reyna saw them both get escorted to Mom’s chambers. Athena had a pretty nasty scratch on her arm, but they both looked okay.” 

“No war has been declared yet, right?”

“No,” Piper says. “I think… I think they might actually be strategizing on what to do next. Together.” 

“Good.” 

“What's happening, Sil?” 

“Kronos,” Silena speaks the name like a curse. “He’s the king of a land across the sea — Tartarus. These attacks are his doing.” 

“How do you know this?” 

“Luke,” Silena answers. Oh gods, where is her husband? Are they husband and wife? He hadn’t gotten to complete his vows before the monsters attacked. He’d tried to hurry, but… Why had he tried to hurry?

Silena blinks a few times, staring down at the face of her younger sister. Piper is asking her questions, but Silena can’t hear her anymore. When the attack first started, right before the explosion, Luke had looked almost angry, hadn’t he? 

He heard that noise, what Silena now knows to be the screech of a harpy, and he’d hurried to complete his vows before the explosion. Almost like… like he knew there was going to be an explosion. 

“Have you seen my husband?” Silena asks. 

Piper’s eyes soften, “Yeah. He was with Annabeth and Percy earlier, helping the survivors get into the Great Hall.” 

Silena nods and glances over her shoulder at Clarisse. The knight had been talking softly with Reyna, but once she sees the look on Silena’s face, she stands up straight and nods. 

“Get somewhere safe,” Silena tells Reyna and Piper. “I don’t think we’ve seen the end of this attack, yet.” 

“Where are you going?” 

“To speak with my husband.” 

+++++

Clarisse has seen Silena respond to a variety of situations. She’s seen the princess angry, sad, happy, horny, and irritated. But she’s never seen this side of Silena. 

The princess, drenched in blood, walks through the Great Hall with a scowl on her face. People stumble to get out of her way. Some whisper as she passes by. Others bow their heads in respect. Clarisse follows close behind her, glaring at anyone who would dare look at her wrong. 

Instead of walking toward Annabeth and Percy, as Clarisse thought she would, Silena walks to the back of the Great Hall. She climbs onto the dais, standing in front of her mother’s throne, and calls for silence. Her melodic voice fills the hall, and all conversations cease. 

“We have survived yet another attack from our enemies,” Silena calls, her voice hard and angry. “Our brave queens, Aphrodite and Athena, are busy preparing to strike back. We will have justice.” 

Whispers rise up around the room. Clarisse listens as the people of Cyprus and Pylos stare in awe at Princess Silena. None of them joke about her thin, bloodied shift. None of them care about the blood on her face. They look at her like soldiers look to a general — with respect. 

Pride warms Clarisse’s entire body. She’s sure she’s going to explode with it; with pride and admiration for her princess. 

“I need you, my people of Cyprus and my friends from Pylos, to remain strong,” Silena calls out. “I do not believe we have seen the end of this attack. Bar the doors. Arm yourselves, in case the monsters break through. Aim for their wings, if they do.” 

People nod, though now they look less eager to follow instructions. Stupid rich people, always inspired by a speech until it’s time to act. 

“General Ares, General Bellona!” Silena calls. The crowd murmurs and moves around until Clarisse’s father steps forward, Bellona right behind him. Both of them are bloody and bruised. Clarisse is relieved, still, to see her father alive. “Lead a squadron of all the soldiers you can spare into the lower town. These monsters care not for the difference between citizen and noble. Protect our people, generals.” 

Bellona claps a hand over her chest, nodding in obedience. Clarisse likes her immediately. Ares looks less thrilled to be taking orders from the princess, but even he obeys. The two mighty war generals bow to Silena before exiting the room to complete their orders. 

Silena steps off of the dais, then, to stand next to Clarisse. Her shoulders sag, the only sign of her exhaustion. When she looks up at Clarisse, there is a fiery anger in her eyes. Clarisse does not know the cause of it, but she does not need to. She would burn the world for Silena without asking for a reason. 

“Let's go find my husband, shall we?” 

Notes:

oh nooooo the wedding got interrupted! i am soooo sad!

Chapter 19: chapter nineteen

I’m not beaten by this yet
You can’t tell me to regret
Been in the dark since the day we met
Fire, help me to forget

“Which Witch” by Florence + The Machine

+++++

The attack was certainly not finished. 

As Clarisse and Silena skulk through the castle, the walls shake as various monsters try to get in. Harpies slam against the stained-glass windows, clawing at the glass. Whenever they manage to break through, Clarisse takes them down with an arrow. There are worse things than harpies here, though. When Clarisse stops to look out a window at the ground below, she sees dark shapes writhing in the grass. 

She recognizes most of the monsters because of her travels, but there are some she doesn’t know. She spies harpies, cannibal giants, and gorgons down on the ground. Most monsters like these don’t live in Olympia. They’ve come from somewhere else — from the kingdom of Tartarus.  

Another monster curls around the walls of the nearest tower. It’s like a giant, armored snake. The monster is massive; part of its tail still rests on the ground, while its enormous head tries to break through the tallest window in the tallest tower. Nothing should be that big. Clarisse shudders and steps away from the window. 

Ares would know what that thing is. Though her father might be an arrogant asshole, he knows a lot about fighting monsters. 

Silena leads the way through the castle, her feet bare now that she’s discarded her heels. The blood on her dress is slowly drying, but the rage on her face has yet to disappear. Clarisse follows her wordlessly, content to be her guard dog and shield. 

Silena peers into the study, her eyes narrowed against the harsh light of the fireplace. Sure enough, when Clarisse looks over her shoulder, she sees Lord Luke Castellan sitting on the sofa before a roaring fireplace. 

Clarisse watches the princess work her jaw. Silena looks up at her after a moment, and says, “Whatever he says to me in there, I want him to say to me as if we were alone. I need you to stay here and listen.” 

“My lady—” 

“Don’t,” Silena says, shaking her head. Despite the fear and exhaustion, her lips quirk into a smile. “Why do you still call me that?” 

Clarisse huffs a laugh, which is ridiculous considering their surroundings and present situation. “You are the princess, and I am your knight. That’s your title. My lady.” 

Silena lifts an eyebrow, “You and I left the boundaries of knight and princess behind weeks ago, did we not?” 

Clarisse can feel the heat rush to her cheeks as she remembers the last time they touched. That morning under the covers in Silena’s bed… this is not the time to be remembering such things. 

“I know you’re trying to distract me so I don’t argue with you,” Clarisse whispers, allowing herself to lean in closer to Silena. The princess shivers, her breath hitching slightly. 

“Is it working?” Silena asks, her lips only inches from Clarisse’s. 

“Somewhat,” Clarisse answers, feeling her lips pull into a smile. “But I’m still tempted to argue.” 

If she stays here to eavesdrop, she’ll be too far away to help if Silena is in trouble. She can’t bear to be far away from her princess. Silena brushes her fingers across Clarisse’s hand, understanding the conflict in Clarisse’s heart. “I’ll be fine. I can handle Luke.” 

Clarisse nods and allows her princess to walk into the room alone. She stays crouched in the shadows in the hall, peaking through the crack in the doors. 

Princess Silena Beauregard of Cyprus can be a bit of a manipulative bitch when she wants to be, and Clarisse loves her for it. 

Silena stumbles into the study, forcing a sob out of her mouth. Luke stands up from the sofa, clearly startled by someone else’s presence. He rushes to his wife — are they technically married? — and grabs her elbows to keep her standing straight. 

“Luke! You made it out alive!” Silena says, touching her hands to his face. 

“I was just preparing myself to come and find you,” he says, nodding vigorously. Clarisse has to forcefully keep herself from snorting. Yeah right. “Are you okay? Gods, what happened to you?” 

He takes in her appearance; torn dress, bloody face, disheveled hair. She looks very different from the woman who was walking down the aisle only two hours ago. 

“There are monsters out there,” Silena says. “Kronos’ monsters. You warned me.” 

Luke hesitates, but then he nods his head, agreeing with her. The two of them sink onto the sofa. Clarisse presses closer to the door, desperate to hear the entire conversation. 

“We should have shared your information with the courts before the wedding,” Silena says mournfully. This, Clarisse notes, is not part of her performance. Silena is carrying a heavy, heavy guilt over her choice not to share Luke’s secret information. 

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Luke says, pulling her closer to him. Though it’s meant to be a comforting gesture, it looks more like Luke needs some sort of a hold on her. Some sort of a claim. 

“There’s got to be a spy in one of the courts,” Silena muses, allowing herself to be pulled in by him. “How else would Kronos know how to continually get behind our defenses?” 

“Let’s not give him too much credit,” Luke says warily. “We don’t know he has spies here.” 

“But we do,” Silena insists. She re-situates herself on the couch, looking into his eyes. “Our security was of utmost importance tonight, and those monsters breached the castle like it was nothing. They knew where to strike and when. It was planned down to the second.” 

Luke stills, his eyes narrowing on Silena’s face. She’s no longer trembling, Clarisse notes. Though she can’t see Silena’s face from this position, she doesn’t need to see it to know the look in Silena’s eyes. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Luke says carefully. “It seemed a very chaotic attack, to me.” 

“Did it?” Silena hums. “Then why were you in such a rush to finish your vows, Luke? You heard that shriek, and you rushed to finish your vows. Right before the explosion.” 

“What are you accusing me of, Silena?” Luke growls, his expression turning dark. “Speak it plainly.” 

“Did you know of the attack beforehand?” Silena snaps, straightening her back and shoulders. 

For a moment, only tense silence follows. Clarisse has to bite her lip to keep from breathing too hard, terrified Luke will hear her. Her legs are starting to burn with the strain of keeping in this position, but she pushes the pain down. 

Instead of answering her question, Luke asks, “What makes you think I did?” 

“You were unaffected by the explosion. You rushed into your vows. You were angry when that harpy called out — what, was she early? Their timing was off? Were you supposed to be publicly declared my husband before the attack took place?” 

Clarisse tightens her grip on her spear, preparing herself to launch into the room at a moment’s notice if she needs to. 

“Interesting theory,” Luke says. He rises from the sofa and stands in front of the fireplace, his face lit by the flames. For a moment, Clarisse thinks he’s going to deny it. He’s going to laugh in Silena’s face, explain it all, and get away with it. 

She doesn’t know much about Luke, but after tonight, she doesn’t trust him. Silena got knocked back by the explosion, so she didn’t see what happened in the moments immediately after. But Clarisse did. Clarisse saw Luke turn his dark eyes to the sky; she saw the malicious smile that came to his face when the first harpy swooped into the garden. 

No one was paying attention to him. No monsters attacked him. Clarisse only noticed him because she was looking for Silena. The moment she saw Silena on the ground, yards away, she forgot all about Luke. He must have slipped away from the attack. Clarisse had forgotten all about that moment of pure, evil glee on his face until Silena told her why she wanted to speak to her husband. And then it all came back to her. 

“Is my interesting theory correct, Luke?” Silena snaps. 

“You know… when I first met you, Silena, I was enamored with you,” Luke says, once again dodging the question. “You’re beautiful, but not a dimwit. You’re smart. Intellectual. I found myself in awe of your ambition for the throne. When I wrote to you to ask you to marry me, I thought it would be the beginning of something grand. I had no desire to marry a stupid puppet. I want an equal in my marriage.” 

With Luke’s face turned to the fire, Silena dares a glance over her shoulder, looking toward Clarisse’s position. Clarisse jolts, unsure if this is a call to action or to silence. Silena turns her head back to Luke as he continues speaking. 

“I knew you were smart, but I didn’t think you’d catch on so quickly.” 

Fuck.

All of Clarisse’s focus hones in on Luke. She assesses him with a predatory gaze. She flexes her muscles, preparing to throw herself at him as soon as Silena gives the word. 

“So it’s true,” Silena says from her spot on the couch. She sounds both relieved and exhausted. “You’re Kronos’ spy.” 

“Oh, no,” Luke says, turning to face her. “I’m his weapon. Do you not recall me telling you about my family beyond Olympia? With powerful armies?” 

Silena shudders. Clarisse can only see her back from here, but she doesn’t miss the way every muscle tenses. “Your… your family… is Kronos?” 

Luke spreads his hands in a placating gesture, a smile coming to his scarred face. “Surprise! It was supposed to be a wedding gift to you, actually. I was going to be named your prince-consort during the ceremony, the monsters would attack, and Aphrodite was supposed to declare war again. With everyone here in Cyprus, in the castle, I figured most would be dead by the morning.” 

“The monster attack was supposed to… start another war?” 

Luke shrugs, “Maybe not a war, but definitely a little bloodshed. I figured Athena and Aphrodite would kill each other — or Ares and Bellona would do it for them. By the time the sun rose, my hope was that you would be the only royal left alive. I was prepared to ensure it, Silena.” 

“I would be the one left alive only so you could rise to the throne with me.” 

Luke smiles as if this is nothing more than a little disagreement at the beginning of their marriage. That smile, that condescending and possessive smile, ignites a fire in Clarisse’s chest. She’s going to kill that son of a bitch. 

He admitted to being behind the attacks. The attack that ruined Annabeth’s wedding — his friends’ wedding. The attack that left Beckendorf and Lee Fletcher dead. Clarisse is shaking, barely able to control her rage. She inhales carefully, trying to steady her breathing. 

“Why?” is all Silena asks him. 

“For power, Silena. You’ve had it all your life, but I’ve had to fight for it every step of the way. My father has done nothing but ruin our country. Aphrodite and Athena are terrible rulers. Even Ares and Bellona are so wrapped up in themselves they can’t lead properly. They all need to die. We need to start over. We’ll unite Pylos and Cyprus into one kingdom and rule it together. With you and I ruling, the world would be a better place. It could be perfect.” 

“You have killed so many of our people in your quest to create a perfect world,” Silena says softly. “So many have died in these attacks. So many.” 

“They were necessary casualties,” Luke snarls. “The price to pay for my rule.” 

“So what now? Kronos is going to send another army to wipe out our families and put you on the throne?” Silena asks. “Today clearly did not go according to your plans.” 

Luke works his jaw, that scar rippling in the firelight. His hands clench and unclench at his sides. So far, he seems to be playing right into Silena’s traps. He’s admitted everything. Clarisse would be proud of her princess if she wasn’t so goddamn scared for her. 

“You will do as I say, Silena, or you will suffer the consequences,” Luke growls. He steps closer to her, placing his hand under her chin and tilting it up towards his face.

Every hair on the back of Clarisse’s neck stands up. She’s been called a guard dog ever since she started working in this fucking castle, but right now she feels like one. She feels like a wild, feral animal, ready to rip his throat out with her teeth. How dare he speak to her like that? Treat her like that? Oh, Clarisse is going to kill him. 

Silena shrugs, feigning indifference. “You’re my husband, now. No one but me knows your involvement in the attacks. What will you do next?” 

“That depends,” Luke says, spitting the words out, “on whether or not you decide to play nice.” 

Using his free hand, he yanks her head back by her hair, so that she’s forced to look up at him. Clarisse bites her tongue to keep herself rooted to the spot. The edges of her vision are red; she can feel herself trembling with rage. Still, she stays put. 

She has to trust Silena. She has to trust that the princess has a plan; that she’s still spinning some sort of web in which she will entrap Luke. Clarisse steadies her breathing and releases her white-knuckle grip on her spear. 

“I can play nice,” Silena snaps. “What would you have me do?” 

“Work with me, instead of against me,” Luke answers. “You are my wife, now, even if we never made it to the wedding bed.” 

Again, Clarisse has to force herself to take long, deep breaths. She’s going to kill him, for sure, but it can’t be right now. 

“The future you want is not the one I do,” Silena says, shaking her head. “I will not help you become a tyrant over our kingdoms.” 

“Then you will die.” 

Luke says the words so calmly, like he’s discussing tea or the weather instead of murder. Clarisse’s grip on her spear tightens, and she readies herself to attack. But inside the study, she hears Silena laugh. It’s a cold, mocking laugh. One Clarisse has heard only a handful of times. 

“Your solution is to kill me?” Silena asks, still laughing. “Oh, do go ahead, Luke. See how quickly this castle unites to throw you in prison.” 

Luke scowls, his gaze darkening. He finally releases his grip on her and prowls closer to the fireplace, turning his back to the princess once again. 

“If you kill me, everyone will see through your bullshit,” Silena says. “It would have worked if you’d done it earlier, sure. You could have blamed it on the attacks. But I’ve already addressed my people. Everyone already knows I survived. That I’m safe. If I die now, they’ll all know it was by your hand. You’re an idiot, Luke Castellan.” 

Clarisse can’t help the slight exhale of breath that she releases. She knew Silena was smart and calculated, but she hadn’t even realized that the princess had been making important, strategic moves all night. It makes Clarisse feel hot and flustered. 

Luke scowls at her again, his rage clear on his face. “You know I can’t let you just walk out of here, Silena. You’ll run straight to mummy dearest and have me arrested.” 

“Yes, that’s the plan.” 

Luke snorts, not even off-put by Silena’s confidence and bravado. “There is, perhaps, one thing I could do to buy your friendship.” 

Silena leans back onto the sofa, looking relaxed and comfortable. Clarisse knows it’s all a facade, but it’s certainly a damn good one. “And what is that, dear husband?” 

“I could spare the life of your guard dog, for one. Did you really think I didn’t notice the Lady of Bloodshed sulking in the shadows?” 

Well. Shit. 

Clarisse takes that as her cue. She rises from the shadows and pushes open the door, stepping into the room. Luke smirks at her. Silena stands up from the sofa, eyeing Clarisse apprehensively. 

“I don’t think you’ll win this fight, asshole,” Clarisse growls, pointing her spear at him. 

Luke doesn’t even reach for his sword. He has two, Clarisse notes. One in a scabbard at his side, and a much larger greatsword strapped to his back. Why hadn’t she noticed the big sword earlier? From what she can tell in the limited light of the room, it’s a stygian iron sword. 

“I don’t need to,” Luke replies. 

Before Clarisse can ask what that means, a few soldiers pile into the room. They aren’t guards from the castle, though. They’re dressed in the black leather uniforms of the attackers. An insignia is embroidered on the uniform; a silver scythe. These are Kronos’ men. 

“I can take you and them,” Clarisse says, rolling her shoulders. Five men against her isn’t even a fair fight for them, really. One of the men steps forward, and Clarisse notices he’s wearing an eye patch. He grins at her, then looks to his boss — to Luke. 

“That won’t be necessary, La Rue,” Luke says, again sounding casual and bored. He steps around the sofa and walks to the massive windows of the study. He pushes them open, allowing a breeze to filter into the room. Beyond the windows, the dark night stretches on. No stars decorate the sky tonight. Only rainclouds and lightning. 

Clarisse looks to Silena, unsure of what to do. The princess narrows her eyes on the armed men, as if trying to decide if there is some hidden threat in them. If Silena gives her the signal, it won’t take much effort at all to cut through all five of these men and then Luke himself. Clarisse can do it. She knows she can. 

“I won’t kill you, wife,” Luke muses, leaning out the window ever so slightly. “But she might.” 

An ear-shattering clattering fills the study. Clarisse winces, tempted to cover her ears with her hands. What the fuck is that noise? The window to the night sky is temporarily blocked, then, obscuring the moon from view. What the fuck…? 

Clarisse pales as she realizes what is blocking out the night sky. It’s moving. Slithering. One of those massive, scaly monsters is snaking around the tower. Wrapping around them. That sound… it’s the sound of scales clanking against the cobblestones of the castle. 

Silena stumbles back, toward Clarisse, as the creature finally passes the window. And then it doubles back, but not its underbelly. Its head levels with the window, and holy gods above… it's massive. 

It looks vaguely like a snake with its diamond-shaped head and slitted nostrils. Its eyes are large, yellow, and almond-shaped. And trained directly on Silena and Clarisse. 

Clarisse’s knees wobble beneath her. Something about those eyes freezes her to the spot. She’s never felt fear like this. Her whole body is shaking; trembling. 

“Have you ever battled a drakon, Lady of Bloodshed?” Luke is asking her. 

Clarisse can’t get any words out, no matter how hard she tries. She can’t look away from the beast — the drakon. Clarisse just shakes her head. 

“Mmm, I thought not. I wish you the best of luck, then.” 

And with that, the drakon lurches into the study. It can barely fit its head through the window, but once it does, it starts snapping at Clarisse and Silena. 

Clarisse tackles Silena to the ground, the drakon’s jaws closing on empty air right where Silena had just been standing. Clarisse doesn’t hesitate; she rolls off of Silena, draws her spear, and launches herself at the monster. Its massive body takes up most of the empty space in the room, but that’s not even all of it. Half of its snake-like body is still outside, likely curled around the tower for support. 

Clarisse stabs her spear into the drakon’s side, but her weapon bounces off the armor-like scales. Oh, fuck. The monster whips its head at her, teeth snapping. She rolls to avoid the attack. The drakon’s head crashes into a bookshelf, sending books, papers, and quills flying through the air. The wood splinters on impact. Maybe if Clarisse can cause enough commotion… make enough noise… someone will hear it and come to help. 

Clarisse bellows and slams the butt of her spear onto the ground, drawing the monster’s gaze. The creature screeches at her, clearly pissed she hasn’t died yet.

Ditto, bitch. 

Before Clarisse can launch herself at the drakon, something slams into her head. She surges forward, blinking and stumbling. She ends up on her knees, the world spinning before her. What..?

“...don’t let that bitch kill it! Ethan, deal with La Rue!” Luke is shouting. 

Clarisse looks up as someone comes to stand in front of her. It’s the man from before — the one with the eyepatch. The remnants of a vase are lying around Clarisse. Did this bitch hit her over the head with a vase? 

Behind him, the drakon has turned its attention to Silena. So far, the princess is doing a good job of dodging the attacks by hiding behind pieces of large, wooden furniture. Every time the drakon lunges for her, Silena draws it further and further into the room — forcing the drakon to lose its support on the tower. Gods, she’s so fucking smart. 

Unfortunately, Clarisse has other things to focus on right now. Primarily, this one-eyed idiot standing in front of her. 

“You’re so fucking dead,” Clarisse growls. Despite the dizziness and nausea, Clarisse rises to her feet and draws her sword. She leaves the spear on the ground, for now. Ethan swings his stygian iron sword at her, and she blocks it with her own bronze sword. Sparks fly as the metals collide. 

Clarisse goes on the offensive. She batters her sword against Ethan’s, forcing him to take a few steps back to avoid her onslaught of attacks. He’s good with a sword, though, and never misses one of her moves. They go blow for blow, both of them gritting their teeth and growling at each other like wild animals. 

Behind them, the drakon continues to make a mess of the study. Clarisse can only pray that her princess manages to dodge it long enough for Clarisse to kill this moron. 

Ethan kicks Clarisse in the knee, which makes Clarisse howl in pain. She stumbles back, her knee barely supporting her weight. She has to rush to block his next few attacks, each one stronger and faster than the next. Fuck, this guy is good. 

Clarisse finally manages to get the upper hand when she forces Ethan into a corner. He doesn’t have enough room to block each attack. She shoves him into a bookcase, which then topples over into him. He crashes into the ground, the massive bookcase right on top of him, pinning him to the floor. 

Clarisse turns, lifting her sword, only to find another man readying to fight her. This time, she doesn’t even give him the honor of engaging in a fight with her. She slams her sword into his face. 

Blood splatters across her face — not for the first time tonight. He crumbles to the floor, and Clarisse stumbles forward, desperate to get to Silena. 

+++++

Silena crouches behind a splintered bookcase and wonders just when her life got so fucked up. 

She married a psychopath who not only wants to take over the world but also wants to use fucked up scary monsters to do it. Great! 

The drakon chomps down on the bookcase, sending more wooden splinters raining down on her. She rolls out of the way, closer to the door. She’s been slowly drawing the creature further and further into the room with the hope that it would finally be caught off balance. Unfortunately, she has no idea how long the damn thing is. She might just be giving it more leverage in here. 

She yelps as she narrowly dodges another bite. Somewhere in the corner of the room, she can hear Luke yelling orders at his men. The other advantage to drawing the drakon into the room is that the creature’s sheer size has hindered Luke and his soldiers’ movements. Currently, her husband is trapped alone in a corner, the drakon’s scaly hide blocking any path forward. Poor bastard. 

Silena doesn’t know what’s happening with Clarisse. She doesn't dare look over her shoulder to find out. She can hear the clang of swords, the cursing of a fight, but she doesn’t dare look. She keeps her eyes on her own problem. 

Her first mistake is looking it in the eyes. 

Those massive, yellow eyes focus on her, pinning her in place. The drakon almost looks like it’s smiling at her. Her knees go wobbly. Her body begins to shake and shudder. She’s so stupid for thinking she could survive this. She’s so weak. 

Fear works its way into her mind, her heart, her soul. She can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think. She stands before the hulking shape of the drakon and whimpers. She knows, somehow, that she needs to move. Through the haze of fear and desolation, she knows she needs to move. But she can’t seem to get her feet to move. 

“Silena!” 

That’s her name, yes. Silena. She stares up at the mighty drakon, which is slowly gathering itself up. Its snake-like body coils behind it, head rising higher and higher above her. Those yellow eyes never leave her. Never let her escape. 

“SILENA!” 

That voice… something about that voice makes her feel brave. Bravery is so useless in this world, is it not? What use is bravery when things such as this creature exist? Silena is so weak. So useless. No, she’s not brave. She’s always been scared. 

“SILENA, MOVE YOUR FUCKING ASS!” 

There’s only one person who would dare speak to a princess like that. Silena would know — she is a princess, isn’t she? There’s only one person she allows to speak to her like that. Her knight.  

Clarisse. 

Silena blinks a few times, her senses coming back to her. She claws her way through that haze of fear. She forces herself to look away from those yellow eyes. As soon as she does, she can think again. Can feel her body again. Oh, fuck. 

The drakon has gathered itself up to its full height, now, right in front of her. Somewhere to her left, Clarisse is barreling towards her. She’s not going to make it in time. 

The drakon opens its mouth, and a stream of steaming green liquid launches through the air. Silena draws her arms up in front of her face. 

She screams as the acid connects with her arms and her neck. It feels like molten lava all over her body. She falls to the ground, screaming and writhing in pain. Her body is on fire. It has to be.

The fire is on her arms, her neck, her shoulders. It’s not stopping, it’s not going out. Silena rolls around on the floor, wailing, desperate to put out the fire. It has to be fire. It burns. Gods, it burns. 

She’s vaguely aware of a woman standing over her, roaring at the drakon. Silena clenches her eyes shut, tears streaming down her face. The pain, the pain, the pain… 

The drakon’s roar of pain forces Silena to open her eyes. It takes a great deal of effort to do so. Every movement, every breath, is pain. Fire. Agony. 

She watches as Clarisse steps forward and in one, fluid motion, slams her spear into the drakon’s yellow eye. Another roar of pain. Clarisse, her knight, her love, her lady of bloodshed, whirls in a circle and jams her spear into the drakon’s open mouth. Upwards, into the soft part of its mouth. The drakon slumps to the ground, dead. 

Silena barely has enough time to sob before she blacks out. 

+++++ 

She comes to seconds later. She’s not on the ground anymore, though. Her head is cradled in someone’s lap. Clarisse’s lap. That’s Clarisse’s face above her. Those are Clarisse’s tears splashing onto her face. 

Why does everything hurt? Why does everything burn?

“Clarisse,” Silena sobs. She doesn’t know if she’s begging, complaining, or rejoicing. 

“I know, darling, I know,” Clarisse responds, tears streaming down her face. “Hang on for me, okay?” 

The next thing Silena sees before slipping into unconsciousness is Luke putting the tip of a sword to Clarisse’s throat. 

Notes:

this might be an AU but did you really think you'd escape the drakon?? NO

Chapter 20: chapter twenty

What if you gave it all, to find that it wasn’t enough?
What if, under the gaze of all, you come short when the going gets rough?

“Why Would You Be Loved” by Hozier

+++++

She’s vaguely aware that she’s being carried through her own castle. She catches glimpses of familiar paintings and tapestries. She can hear voices; shouting. Strong arms are carrying her; the familiar smell of smoke and mint. 

The pain is like nothing she’s ever experienced. It’s no longer only her arms and neck that burn; she can feel the white-hot flames in every inch of her body. Every muscle, every tendon, every bone.

She can see the night sky, now.

When did they get outside?

There are no stars tonight. Only dark rain clouds. Lightning crashing across the sky.

She can smell smoke. Not the familiar, woodsy smoke of her knight. No, this is different. This is bad. She tries to open her eyes, to figure out where she is and what’s going on. She groans in pain. Someone is whispering to her, telling her it’s going to be okay. Their strong arms still carry her. 

When Silena opens her eyes this time, she finds herself being carried through the streets of her city. Her kingdom is on fire. People are screaming as they run through the streets. Some are bleeding; some are missing appendages. Someone is begging the gods to have mercy. 

It smells of blood; of death. Black smoke billows into the sky. Maybe those aren’t rain clouds; maybe that’s the smog of a burning city. Children are screaming and crying. She can hear them. 

Harpies fly through the night sky, diving when they see a particularly weak victim. Other monsters, dark and dangerous, prowl the streets of the city. Screaming. So much screaming. 

Tears pour down Silena’s face as Clarisse carries her through the city. 

“What have I done?” Silena whispers.

And then she allows the pain to claim her. 

+++++

The next time she comes to, she sees the cover of a wagon above her instead of the night sky. Her skin doesn't feel like liquid fire anymore, though it certainly still hurts. She tries to sit up, only to find that her body is stiff and immovable.

“Shhh, my love, don’t try to move.”

That voice. That beautiful, familiar voice.

Clarisse is sitting next to her in the back of the wagon. Her face is bloody and her eye swollen. Her lip is cracked. And her hands… they’re bound in front of her with thick rope. Silena blinks, trying to take in their surroundings. It’s definitely the back of a wagon; she can feel the rocking of movement beneath her. The smell of wood and the outdoors.

“Where…?” Silena’s voice cracks before she can finish her sentence. She closes her mouth and tries to swallow a few times, to wet her lips and throat, but finds her mouth dry.

“We’ve been taken captive,” Clarisse answers, already knowing the unasked question. “By Luke. I don’t know where we’re going. How are you feeling?”

“Bad,” Silena answers honestly. Her entire body is aching… burning. She’s lying on her back in the wagon, her head in Clarisse’s lap. She dares a glance down at her body, only to find that her entire midsection is wrapped in gauze. Strips of fabric — of Clarisse’s shirt — are holding the bandages closed.

What happened? She remembers talking to Luke, the drakon… the yellow eyes. Her insurmountable, paralyzing fear… the acid. She remembers the feeling of the acid slamming into her body, burning away at her skin.

She tentatively reaches a shaky hand up to her neck, where thick bandages are wrapped around her. Clarisse stops her, pulling Silena’s hand into her own.

“You’re going to be okay,” Clarisse says. “I’ve got you.” 

Silena wants to say more. She wants to ask about Clarisse’s injuries, to figure out where they’re going, to plan an escape. But exhaustion grips her and pulls her back into a fitful sleep.

+++++

Something changes during the night. Her dreams get darker and more chaotic. Her body gets hot, her face gets sweaty. When she dozes in and out of consciousness, she only hears a few muttered words here and there.

“..an infection.”

“...needs medicine, you asshole!”

“Luke!”

Part of Silena feels guilty for allowing herself to fall back into sleep. She should be helping Clarisse. She should be comforting Clarisse. She should be planning an escape, if Luke truly has taken them prisoner. But she can’t seem to keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds at a time.

She tries to smile up at Clarisse, but her vision is hazy. Dizzy. Clarisse is saying something to her, bending down over her, pressing a cool hand to Silena’s very, very hot skin.

“Don’t go where I can’t follow,” Clarisse whispers to her.

+++++

Clarisse feels like a caged animal.

The wagon where they’ve been kept for the last three days is dirty, cramped, and smells awful. Her hands have been tied in front of her for days; the skin beneath the rough rope is red and raw, but thankfully isn’t bleeding anymore.

Her head slams into the side of the wagon as one of the wheels presumably hits a hole in the road. Clarisse growls obscenities under her breath, trying to position herself to better hold Silena’s body still.

The princess has been asleep for nearly ten hours, now, which is the longest she’s gone between waking up. The last two days… 

Clarisse grimaces, trying not to remember the green, oozing wounds beneath the bandages. The burns on Silena’s body are extensive, and Clarisse had barely been given enough time to clean them and wrap them up before she was tossed into the wagon by Luke. They’d gotten infected on the second day, and Silena had gotten a really bad fever.

It was bad. Really, really fucking bad. She’d been burning up, sweating, and mumbling in her sleep. Clarisse had begged Ethan and Luke to stop in a village for medicine. She’d pleaded on her hands and knees in front of the two men. They’d seemed to get a kick out of it, too. Ethan had made a few snide comments about the Lady of Bloodshed begging in the dirt. Clarisse didn’t even care about the humiliation.

Luke, eventually, allowed some of his men to fetch some medicinal herbs from the nearest village. Clarisse didn’t know what they were, where they came from, or if they were going to work — but she did her best to work them into a salve for Silena’s wounds. Thank the gods, it seemed to do the trick. The fever went away last night.

Silena still hasn’t woken up, but at least the fever is gone. 

The moments after the drakon sprayed her with acid happened so quickly. Clarisse killed the drakon with her spear — she remembers that much. She remembers cradling Silena’s limp, burning body in her arms. Unfortunately, she hadn’t killed Ethan Nakamura when she’d thrown a bookcase on top of him. Once the drakon died, he and Luke got the upper hand on Clarisse. She hadn’t even fought back; all she could do was hold Silena in her arms and pray.

The one silver lining is Clarisse’s plan to make a hell of a lot of noise had paid off. By the time the drakon was dead, half of the castle’s remaining soldiers were outside the study with their weapons drawn. Percy and Reyna were there, too.

Clarisse remembers the look on Percy’s face when Luke dragged Silena out of the study, threatening to slit her throat if the guards didn’t let them pass. The betrayal in Percy’s eyes was so painful it made Clarisse feel sorry for him.

But they let Luke pass. Luke made Clarisse carry Silena, which she was more than happy to do. With a sword pressed to her back, Clarisse carried the dying princess out of the castle and through the destroyed town. Luke, Ethan, and a few remaining men escorted Clarisse to a wagon, where they told Clarisse to place Silena’s body. 

“I go where she goes,” Clarisse growls at them. “Let me dress her wounds, then we’ll go.” 

“Fine,” Luke snarls. “You have five minutes.” 

Clarisse did everything she could to clean the burns. She had only water, gauze from the wagon, and strips of her own dirty shirt. She’d never wished for Will Solace so badly. The five minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and Luke didn’t allow her a second more. He tied her hands, tightly and roughly, and threw her in the wagon. He set Silena’s body next to her, not caring that the princess was dying. 

And they rode out of the city, prisoners of traitors to the two kingdoms. 

Clarisse sighs heavily and rests her head against the side of the wagon. They’ve been riding for three fucking days, now. The only time they stop is for a few hours at night, so Luke and Ethan can take turns sleeping. Clarisse has been given very little food or water, and every time she has to use the bathroom, she does so under the jeering gaze of Ethan or an equally horrible guard.

She’s almost glad Silena has been able to sleep through most of it. Almost. She’d feel a lot better if she could see the princess’ blue eyes open and awake. Alive. Silena stirs in her lap, eyes fluttering open as if in answer to Clarisse’s silent wishes. Her eyes are focused, much unlike the last time Clarisse saw them. Silena blinks a few times, looking around the cabin. 

“What happened?” Silena asks, her voice so hoarse it makes Clarisse wince.

Hearing her voice makes Clarisse exhale sharply. She's awake. She's alive. She's not dead. Clarisse has to repeat those words back to herself a few times as she stares down at the love of her life.  

“Your wounds got infected,” Clarisse answers softly, her voice wavering. “Are you... are you feeling better now?”

“Much,” Silena says, nodding her head once. “I thought… for a minute there, I thought…” 

“I know.” 

There was a moment last night, when Silena was writhing in pain, that Clarisse thought she was going to die. She’d gotten so pale, so clammy, and then all of a sudden, she’d gone entirely still. Don’t go where I can’t follow, Clarisse had begged her. Stay with me. Don’t you dare die, Silena. It was the worst night of Clarisse’s life. The fear that gripped her that night was like nothing Clarisse had ever experienced. She's been scared before. She's been terrified. But last night while she begged the old gods to spare her princess' life, Clarisse was... well, it's a good thing Silena pulled through.

Clarisse would have torn the world apart with her bare hands if Silena had died. 

“Are you okay?” Silena asks her, those blue eyes finding Clarisse’s. 

“Am I okay?” Clarisse repeats. “My lady, are you ?” 

Silena scoffs and tries to sit up. This time, Clarisse doesn’t stop her. Silena slowly, painfully, forces herself into a sitting position. She situates herself so that she’s sitting in Clarisse’s lap. There’s really no other way for them to sit — the wagon is entirely too small for two people. 

Silena rests her head against Clarisse’s chest, and for just a moment, Clarisse closes her eyes and pretends they’re anywhere else. No, they aren’t prisoners. They’re in bed somewhere far away from here. Breakfast is on the table, music is playing softly in the background, and the only thing in the world that matters anymore is seeing Silena smile.

When Clarisse opens her eyes, it physically pains her to see the reality of her situation. 

“I thought we talked about you calling me my lady,” Silena whispers.

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” 

Silena shrugs against her, and the motion is so simple, so normal, it makes Clarisse smile. 

“Every time I call you my lady, what I really mean is my love,” Clarisse tells her. “I can’t call you that publicly, so I call you by your title. But it has always meant my love."

If she's honest, it had taken Clarisse a while to realize that. At first, of course, she called Silena by her title because it was expected. It’s required. But as their feelings slowly rose to the surface, as those lines were crossed… my lady became a subtle way for Clarisse to call Silena my love. 

Silena pulls her head away ever so slightly, her lips pursed. Her eyes are sparkling with life, and that’s enough to make Clarisse smile. She thought she’d never see those eyes again.

“I love you,” Silena says. 

And even though it’s useless because they’ll probably be dead in a matter of days, Clarisse beams. She rests her forehead against Silena’s.

“I love you, too.”

+++++

When they stop that night, it’s Luke who peers into the back of the wagon. When he sees Silena very much alive and awake, he smirks. 

“Ah, glad you pulled through, wife.” 

“Are you glad?” Silena snaps. “It was you who set that fucking drakon on me.”

Luke scoffs and tosses a waterskin into the wagon. “Is that really how you’re going to speak to your husband?”

“You are not my husband,” Silena mutters. 

“I suppose there are a few things we missed out on during our wedding, hmm?” Luke says, raising an eyebrow. “Instead of a wedding night, we fled a kingdom together! Could still be romantic, sort of.”

Silena shudders, leaning away from Luke. Clarisse wraps an arm around her protectively, pulling the princess closer to her and further from Luke. “I’ll kill you,” Clarisse growls.

“I should have put the dog down when I had the chance,” Luke sighs, still sounding jovial and lighthearted. “Don’t make me do it now, La Rue.”

Clarisse grits her teeth and clenches her fist, but Silena’s hand on her chest stops her from saying anything else. She takes a deep breath. Another. Then she slumps back against the wagon and offers Luke a lazy, arrogant smile. 

She just got Silena back from the brink of death. She won’t do anything to jeopardize that.

“Where are you taking us, Luke?” Silena asks. 

“To a fort near the coast,” he answers. “Kronos awaits us there.” 

Kronos. The evil king from Tartarus, a land across the sea, has finally come to Olympia. Clarisse can’t help but shudder. If he’s the one who brought the drakons, harpies, and other monsters here… there’s no telling what he’ll do if he gets to rule over the continent. 

Silena apparently comes to a similar conclusion if her shudder is anything to go by. She again pushes closer to Clarisse, as if to put distance between herself and Luke.

Without taking his eyes off Silena, Luke calls out to his men. “Give the prisoners something to eat. Now that the princess is awake, bind her hands.” Luke says nothing else before walking away, presumably to warm himself by a fire. Clarisse can hear the crackle of wood, the smell of smoke.

Ethan climbs into the back of the wagon, a yard of rope in his hands. He takes Silena’s hands into his own, gruffly jerking her around to get a better angle for the rope. Silena winces and groans at the sudden movement. 

“Careful,” Clarisse growls, glaring at the one-eyed man crouching before her.

“Not so tough now, are you?” he whispers, a triumphant grin on his face. He finishes tying Silena’s hands, then tosses her back into Clarisse’s lap. Again, Silena tries to bite back a yelp but fails. Clarisse has to bite down on her tongue, the pain a distraction from the rage igniting inside of her.

“Next time, I’ll make sure it’s not just a bookshelf I drop on top of you,” Clarisse says, her voice leveling out until it's cold and apathetic. “I’ll feed you to a drakon myself.”

This time, Ethan doesn’t have a comeback. He jumps out of the wagon, scowling at them both before wandering off. After a few minutes, he returns with a few strips of dried meat and bread. He tosses it at them like they're swine in a pen. With a snicker, he returns to the campfire.

Silena carefully picks up the stray pieces of food, giving Clarisse the bigger pieces. Clarisse snorts and pushes the food into Silena’s hands, saying, “You haven’t eaten anything in days. I’m alright. Eat, please. You need to rebuild your strength.”

“But—” 

“Silena.” 

The princess huffs, but doesn’t argue any more than that. She carefully bites into the food. As she eats, Clarisse tells her what’s happened over the last few days. Luke and Ethan’s escape from the caste, the days of traveling down unmarked roads, and the infection. 

“Have you seen anyone following us?” Silena asks once she’s finished the food and taken a sip of water. “Soldiers? Percy? Ares?”

“No,” Clarisse says softly, shaking her head. “I don’t know who’s left alive. The city… it was rough when we left. Do you remember?” 

Silena nods, a shadow passing over her face. “I’ve been dreaming of it. That night.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Do you remember all those times I had nightmares?” Silena asks. Clarisse nods; she’s seen the princess wake from nightmares more than once. “They were all about the same thing. My city burning.” 

Clarisse believes her, of course, but it’s still strange to hear it. The gift of prophecy is a rare one, and it hasn’t been heard of in eons. If Silena is dreaming of the future… 

“I don’t want to think about it,” Silena says, as if reading Clarisse’s mind. 

“Fair enough,” Clarisse says. She rests her head against the side of the wagon, the exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with her. She hasn’t slept much at all; she’s been too focused on counting Silena’s breaths and checking her pulse. Now that her princess is awake and very much alive, it seems Clarisse’s body is going to shut down. 

“Sleep, my love,” Silena murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Clarisse’s cheek. “I promise I’ll wake you if there's trouble.” 

“I love you,” is the last thing Clarisse says before allowing herself to drift to sleep. 

+++++ (Annabeth’s POV) +++++

The castle was in utter chaos for nearly two days after Silena’s capture. 

Luckily, there was never a moment of doubt between the two queens. Both Aphrodite and Athena agreed immediately to join forces and fight back against Kronos of Tartarus. In the days since the wedding and the attack, every single minute has been taken up with war preparations. 

Annabeth has barely slept. She’s barely seen her husband — he’s been called away to meetings of his own. She’s barely eaten, though Piper is nice enough to smuggle food and snacks into the meetings for her. 

When she’s not in war meetings, she’s thinking about Luke. 

When she’d first heard Percy’s retelling of that night… she’d doubted her husband. She thought maybe Percy had misunderstood something. There’s no way Luke would have threatened Silena. But it wasn’t just Percy who saw what happened — it was Reyna and an entire squadron of soldiers, too. And they all said the same thing: Luke threatened to kill his wife if they didn’t let him leave the castle peacefully. 

Which means Luke was behind the attacks. Her oldest friend, her brother, was the person responsible for so much death and destruction. The realization hit her like a storm. The first day, while everyone was scrambling trying to figure out what to do, Annabeth laid in bed and cried. It wasn’t wise or heroic or brave — but it was what she needed. She cried for herself, her kingdom, and her friend. Luke’s betrayal has wounded her deeply, and she truly has no idea how long it’s going to take her to process it. 

Annabeth rubs a hand down her face, stifling a groan. It’s nearly midnight, now, and this council meeting is still going. 

“We don’t have the numbers to beat Kronos,” Hades says. “Our scouts say his armies are landing on the coast. Already, he has nearly 25,000 ready. Not only soldiers but monsters, too. If we wait any longer, we’ll never win.” 

“If we rush into this war unprepared, we will never win,” Hermes snaps. Annabeth can’t bear to look at him — he looks too much like Luke. “My son knows that. He knows our numbers, and he knows the layout of both kingdoms. He will provide Kronos with every advantage he can. We must move forward wisely.” 

“Do not speak as though your words are valued here,” Apollo snaps. “It is your son who sided with the enemy.” 

Hermes bristles, his hands clenching into fists. Before a fight can break out amongst her court members, Annabeth clears her throat and raises an eyebrow at both men. They settle down without another word. 

“...we have to leave her there. We must focus our attention to his armies,” Hades is saying. 

“You’d leave our princess to rot in a cell somewhere?” Dionysus asks. 

Hades winces but spreads his hands. “Luke and his king, Kronos, expect us to chase down Silena. They want us to go after her. Instead, we need to focus on his armies. Our scouts say more and more ships have landed on the coast — each one of them filled to the brim with monsters from stories. If we don’t attack them now, while they’re still arriving, we’ll never beat them.” 

“You want to wage a war on Kronos and leave Princess Silena alone?” Annabeth asks, the first thing she’s said in hours. Her voice is hoarse from a lack of use. 

“She’s not alone.” 

A new but familiar voice draws the attention of everyone in the room. Piper stands at the far end of the room, her arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes are still puffy and red; she’s spent the last few days sobbing. It seems she’s finally found the courage to face the courts again; pride swells in Annabeth’s chest. 

“Princess Piper…” Dionysus says warningly. “We don’t know that Luke will spare the knight’s life. We have to believe he’s going to offer a ransom for Princess Silena — that courtesy doesn’t extend to her guard dog.” 

Piper shakes her head, sniffling once. “Focus your armies on Kronos, my lords. My sister is smarter and braver than you think — and I fully believe Clarisse La Rue will do everything she can to keep my sister safe. If we let all of Kronos’ armies land here, we’ll never beat him. Silena would encourage you to attack the coast.” 

Annabeth swallows down her doubts and worries because she knows Piper is right. Logically, the smartest decision is to abandon Silena and throw everything they’ve got at Kronos’ growing army. With the combined might of Cyprus and Pylos’ armies, they should be able to force Kronos out of Olympia.

There’s still a part of Annabeth, though, that feels guilty for not running away to save Silena. The princess was her first ally, her first friend, in Cyprus. And now Annabeth has to turn her back on Silena. 

Silena would understand. Hell, she’d probably yell at Annabeth for being so conflicted. Silena has always put her kingdom’s safety before herself; now Annabeth must do the same. 

“Saving my sister is pointless if there is no kingdom for her to return to,” Piper says, her bottom lip quivering. This is hard for her to say, too. “Save our people. Save our home. And then, when Kronos is nothing but food for the crows, we find Silena and Clarisse.” 

It’s shocking to hear the knight’s name in Piper’s mouth. It’s stranger, still, to see the council agree with her. They don’t contradict her; they don’t mutter about Clarisse’s lack of importance. They want to help the knight just as much as they want to help the princess. That is something Annabeth never expected to see here. 

“As you wish, princess,” Dionysus finally says. Hades and the other lords nod their heads in agreement. Annabeth nods her agreement — as do the members of her own court. The news will be sent to the queens, and then Ares and Bellona will lead their armies to face Kronos. 

“Say your prayers for your princess and her knight,” Annabeth tells the gathered lords. “They will need them.” 

+++++

It takes another three days to mobilize the armies. 

The royal scouts say Kronos’ armies have started to group together right off the coast — near an old fort that’s been empty for eons. That’s where Ares and Bellona will lead their soldiers. That’s where the war will begin. 

Annabeth stands on the steps of a foreign castle and hugs her husband tightly. Percy’s strong arms encircle her, holding her close, as they say goodbye. He’s dressed in his bronze armor, swords hanging at his side, and a shield strapped to his back. 

She’s sent him off to many battlefields before. She’s kissed him goodbye more times than she remembers. But she has never been this terrified before. 

“You come back to me, you hear?” she tells him. 

“Always,” he says. He presses a quick kiss to her temple, and it takes all of her willpower not to pull him back into the castle and lock him away for safekeeping. 

“We’ll join you on the battlefields in a week,” Annabeth tells him softly. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“I’ll be waiting,” he says with a cocky little grin. She huffs a braid out of her face, laughing despite her fear. He kisses her temple again, then says his final goodbyes. 

He mounts his horse — a beautiful black horse named Blackjack — and joins the rows of soldiers marching out of the courtyard. A few yards away, Reyna and Piper are saying their goodbyes. They aren’t as obvious or affectionate as they have been in private — Annabeth would know. Reyna takes Piper’s hands into her own, presses a kiss to the princess’ knuckles, and says her goodbyes. 

Reyna nods to Annabeth, then mounts her horse — Skippy — and rides next to Percy. Annabeth moves to stand by Piper as they watch their lovers ride off into the distance. Piper holds her hand, her grip startlingly strong. 

“They’ll be okay,” Annabeth whispers. The words are more like a plea than a reassurance. “They’re all going to be okay.” 

“I hope so.” 

Chapter 21: chapter twenty-one

Summary:

from here on out, things are going to be a little bit graphic when it comes to violence! i've written fight scenes and described injuries before in this fic, but just be aware that it's about to get a lot more common. that said, enjoy!

Holy water cannot help you now
Thousand armies couldn't keep me out
I don’t want your money
I don’t want your crown
See, I’ve come to burn your kingdom down

“Seven Devils” by Florence + The Machine

+++++

Kronos’ makeshift fort is like something out of a nightmare. 

As Clarisse and Silena are herded through the crumbling hallways, Silena tries to keep calm. The walls are overtaken with ivy and thorns, shadows reaching out toward them like twisted fingers. Most of the ceiling has given way, though some of it remains intact. The fort itself is pretty large, but it seems that Luke and his army are only using parts of it. 

Monsters circle overhead in the dark skies. Silena recognizes the horrible shape of the harpies, but there are other winged things that she’s never seen before. Thankfully, she doesn’t catch sight of any drakons as they’re shuffled through the fort. 

Luke leads the way through the dark halls, Ethan close behind him. A few soldiers shove Silena and Clarisse after them. Silena doesn’t know when she lost her shoes, but now she’s desperate for a pair. Her feet must be bleeding after stepping on so many broken stones and thorns. Clarisse doesn’t seem to be faring much better; with every step, she grimaces. 

Luke leads them into a throne room. Well, what used to be a throne room. It’s a large hall, with partially crumbled columns holding up the roof. A few of the braziers are lit, giving the room a bit of light. The stone floor is cracked and shattered, but not so badly that it can’t be walked across. 

A rug runs down from the throne for a few meters before coming to an end while purple banners decorate the walls. Each banner is embroidered with  a scythe; Kronos’s symbol. 

A wooden throne sits at the end of the hall. Aphrodite would hate how ugly and insignificant the throne is. Silena’s mother sits on a golden throne for a reason; she says beauty demands respect. Though this throne is no reason to grovel or fear, the man sitting upon it surely is. 

When Silena’s eyes land upon King Kronos of Tartarus, a ripple of ice-cold fear slides down her spine.  

The first thing Silena notices is how tall he is. Even sitting on the throne, his proportions seem wrong. If he were standing up, she thinks he must tower somewhere near the eight-foot mark. He has brutal golden eyes, black curly hair, and an unnerving, long pointy beard. His shoulders are broad and his arms muscular. Across his lap lies a stygian iron scythe. 

Luke walks toward him and kneels, as does Ethan Nakamura. Clarisse and Silena stand behind them. Even though her entire body is visibly shaking, Silena tries to soothe her nerves. She glares at the foreign king; she will not kneel. 

“My king, we have returned with Princess Silena of Cyprus,” Luke says, his voice suddenly sounding… vulnerable. She once thought Luke was the most well-spoken, silver-tongued man she’d ever met. Now, though, he sounds like a nervous child. 

Kronos’ golden eyes land on Silena, and again, she has to suppress a shudder. 

“Welcome, child,” the king says. His voice is unspeakably old, cold, and powerful — like knives scraping against stone. “Kneel.” 

Silena lifts her chin a little higher and continues glaring at him. Neither Luke nor Ethan bothers to look at her; the men only stare at the ground before them, their eyes respectfully averted from their king. Clarisse shuffles but doesn’t kneel, either. Kronos’ lips pull upwards, almost into a smile. Or a smirk. Instead of screaming at her or threatening her, Kronos returns his attention to Luke. He motions for the men to stand, so Luke and Ethan do. 

“Would you care to explain why you’re not currently sitting on a throne in Cyprus?” Kronos asks. “You had everything you asked for.” 

Luke scowls, but when he speaks, there is no trace of anger in his voice. “I am sorry, my lord. The attack did not go according to plan. They arrived too soon. The wedding was not finished by the time they attacked, so I have no legal standing in Cyprus.” 

“You never needed it,” Kronos snaps. “You will take it by force.” 

“The people will not see me as a ruler if I have no claim to the throne,” Luke warns. “That's why I needed to marry Silena. They will never submit to me.” 

Kronos’ laugh is even worse than his voice. It’s like a thousand knives scraping slowly over stone. It rakes down Silena’s spine, making every single hair on her body stand up straight. She’s pretty sure her knees are wobbling. 

“They will submit to you.” 

Before Luke can say anything else, a dark shadow moves behind Kronos’ throne. The movement draws everyone’s attention; even Luke’s. The dark shape moves forward, stepping into the light provided by the braziers, and Silena gasps. 

It looks like a hound — but one straight from hell. The black dog is massive, probably the size of a horse. Its fur is short, revealing the powerful, muscular body of the beast. Its eyes glow red. Its mouth is parted slightly in a growl, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. Kronos pats the hellhound on its head like it’s nothing more than a friendly hunting dog. 

“Do not forget, boy, that you have an entire army at your disposal,” Kronos says. “My creatures will put the fear of the old gods into your people. They will submit to you, and you will rule them.” 

Luke is quiet for a long moment as he stares at the black dog. Silena obviously did not know Luke well, but she recognized a compassion in him that she liked. When he spoke of ruling, he always did so with the compassion and gentleness of a good ruler. He wanted to make Olympia a better place — something better than the desolate war lands Aphrodite and Athena allowed it to turn into. She believed in him; she wanted to support Luke's dreams of a better world. Silena has no sympathy for her husband now, but… but perhaps Luke is being pulled in more than one direction, too. She can use that. 

“Yes, my lord,” Luke finally says, bowing his head. “I am honored to be your servant.” 

Satisfied, Kronos once again turns his golden eyes to Silena. “What use are you to me, girl?” 

Silena can think of a few good comebacks that she’d like to hurl at him. She’d like to swear at him, curse him, and go out swinging. If she’s going to die, it’s not going to be on her knees begging for mercy. Before Silena can get a single word out, though, Clarisse speaks. 

“This is Princess Silena Beauregard of Cyprus,” Clarisse growls. “She is the heir to the throne and your wife.” She aims that last part at Luke, which only makes him smirk. “If you kill her now, you will not only face the wrath of Cyprus, but Pylos, too. She has befriended their princess and queen; she is the sole reason peace exists in Olympia. Everyone in the two kingdoms adores her; the royals, the servants, the townsfolk. Every single one of them will raise their weapons and march here if they hear you killed her. Do you want that?” 

Kronos smirks. “Who are you? ” 

“Nothing more than her humble servant.” 

Silena wants to reach for Clarisse, to thank her for those kind words, but something in Kronos’ eyes keeps her rooted to the spot. Luke coughs out a laugh and turns to face his leader once more. 

“This is Clarisse La Rue, and she’s a bit more than a humble servant. She’s the daughter of Ares and a seasoned warrior on the battlefield. Don’t let her anywhere near a weapon,” Luke says, a playful tone to his voice. “She also has a soft spot for my dear wife.” 

Oh, no. Luke has caught on to their romance. If he knows how much Clarisse means to her, he has all the power. Silena will do anything to save Clarisse, and if Luke knows that—

Luke saunters toward her, cutting off her panicked thoughts. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, forcing a kiss to her temple. “Did you know that, wife? That your guard dog spends her nights wanting after you?” 

Oh. He thinks… he thinks Clarisse is the only one with feelings… 

Clarisse scowls at him, but with her hands bound and face beaten, the intimidation doesn’t really work. Luke laughs and lets go of Silena, thankfully. How should she play this? Luke can not know about the love Silena has for Clarisse. She wouldn’t put it past him to kill Clarisse just for the hell of it. 

Thankfully, Luke interprets Silena’s prolonged silence as shock. He laughs at Clarisse. “Sorry, Lady of Bloodshed. I don’t think she knew.” 

Clarisse growls and surges forward, tugging at her binds as she struggles to wrench free from the guards. Luke easily steps out of her range, laughing in her face. 

“Enough,” Kronos says, sounding bored. “Take both of them to the dungeons and see that they’re given clothes and something to eat. Our scouts say the armies of Cyprus and Pylos have started to gather. We have much to discuss.” 

Luke looks dismayed that his plaything is being taken away, but he doesn’t argue with the king. He says a few hushed words to Ethan, who is the one to escort Clarisse and Silena out of the throne room. Kronos doesn’t spare them another look. 

Ethan leads them to a lower lever which smells overwhelmingly like mildew and shit. The dungeons are dark; no lanterns hang along the walls. A few gaps in the crumbling stone let in a bit of moonlight, though. Ethan shoves Clarisse and Silena into a cell together. He slams the iron bars closed after them, then instructs a few guards to stand post outside the dungeon. And then Clarisse and Silena are left alone in the dark. 

Though she can hardly see the other woman’s silhouette, Silena moves quickly and confidently in the dark. She would know Clarisse if she were blind. She steps forward, pushing her face into the warmth of Clarisse’s chest. Ethan left their hands bound, so they can’t embrace, but Silena makes do. She tucks her face into Clarisse’s chest, stifling a sob. Clarisse’s chin rests on the top of her head. 

“We’re going to make it,” Clarisse says, though her voice wavers. 

Silena wants to believe it. She's survived three attacks, now. She survived a drakon. Surely she can make it through one more terrible scenario. But as she looks at the dark shadows and hears the piercing howls of hellhounds, Silena isn't so sure they're going to make it this time. If Kronos is to be believed, a war is about to start. Silena doesn't know much about the intricacies of war — but she knows hostages usually don't make it out alive. 

“Since when are you such an optimist?” Silena finally asks. 

“Since today, I think,” Clarisse answers, huffing out a laugh. After a moment of quiet contemplation, she says, “No, that’s not true. Since falling for you.” 

The words warm Silena up despite the chill in the air. She nestles further into Clarisse, desperate for contact and familiarity. They stay that way for some time; just standing in the middle of their wet, mildewy cell. As close as they can get with bound wrists. Eventually, they sit with their backs against the far wall, fronts facing the cell door. Clarisse tries to loosen the ropes around her wrists to no avail. Silena had seen the red, welted skin under the ropes earlier today. Luke definitely tied Clarisse’s hands tighter than Silena’s. He must really think her a threat. 

“Get some sleep,” Clarisse whispers into the dark. “I’ll wake you if anything changes.” 

“I don’t think I can sleep,” Silena murmurs. Every muscle in her body feels tense, like she’s an animal ready to bolt at any sudden noise. Her heart rate hasn’t slowed since she first saw Kronos. Even now, her hands are still sweaty. No matter what she does, she can’t seem to calm down. 

“Talk to me,” Silena says instead of allowing the panic to creep up on her. “About anything.” 

Clarisse doesn’t hesitate. She launches into a story about training when she was a child. The comforting lilt of her voice starts to soothe the racing of Silena’s heart. The jokes Clarisse tells about her own childhood innocence make Silena laugh, forcing away the ragged breaths. Clarisse’s shoulder pressed against her own finally anchors Silena back to the ground, back to earth. 

She falls asleep pressed against the woman she loves. 

+++++

Ethan, as ordered, brings them clothes and food the following day. Silena hadn’t realized she was still wearing the slip dress from under her wedding dress until she’d looked down at her body. The once-white fabric was torn, bloodied, and had several holes in it. The clothes provided by Ethan are simple, but at least no one can see her breasts through the shirt and trousers. 

Clarisse dutifully turns around to face the wall when Silena changes, which Silena finds incredibly endearing. She does the same when Clarisse changes out of her shredded clothes. Silena would be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to peek. 

Once both women are changed into dirty, scratchy trousers and shirts, they enjoy a meal together. 'Meal' is a loose term for the food Ethan brought them. There’s a single slice of cold bread, an apple, and two grilled sausages. 

“You haven’t eaten in days,” Silena says, handing the protein to Clarisse. “If you argue with me, I will hit you.” 

Clarisse raises a single eyebrow but obediently eats the food. Silena bites into the bread, glad not to taste mold. As far as imprisonment goes, this isn’t so terrible. The ground is a little wet, and it certainly smells awful down here, but… Silena is glad not to be alone. Clarisse’s presence acts as a constant source of relief and courage. If Clarisse is here, Silena is okay. 

“Did you hear what Kronos said last night about the armies mobilizing?” Clarisse asks after she finishes her food. “Sounds like Aphrodite and Athena are still allies.” 

“I wonder what they’ll do now,” Silena muses. “Luke has completely given himself away, which is a small comfort. Annabeth will know what to do. She’ll point the queens to the right decision.” 

Clarisse nods, but something in her eyes makes Silena wary. “Did you mean what you said yesterday? About the people… loving me?” 

Clarisse’s distress fades away and is replaced by a smile. “Of course I did,” she scoffs. “Ever since I met you, it’s been clear to me that your ultimate goal is to provide a better world for your people. For people like Psyche and Eros. And I’ve seen the way people look at you when we ride through town. You might not see it, but I’m trained to. They adore you, Silena.” 

Silena isn’t quite sure she believes it, but it’s nice to think about. She doesn’t deserve her people’s love, that’s for sure. She still has a long, long way to go before she’ll be satisfied. There is so much more she wants to do for her kingdom. But to hear that they respect her, that one day they’ll support her as queen… well, it’s nice. 

“I hope I get the chance to follow through on it all,” Silena mutters. 

“You will,” Clarisse says, nodding decisively. “I’ll make sure of it.” 

She says it so seriously, with such confidence, that Silena finds she can’t disagree with Clarisse. If there’s one thing in the entire world she will always believe in, it’s Clarisse. Silena has never cared much for religion or the old gods. She's much more practical and puts her belief in things she can see. But Clarisse... well, she's the one thing Silena would ever consider worshipping. With a soft smile, Silena reaches out her hand and cups Clarisse’s bloody and bruised face. Gods, this woman. She’s endured so much just to stay by Silena’s side. Silena truly doesn’t know how she’s ever going to repay Clarisse for it all. 

“My husband seems to think you’re soft on me,” Silena says. “What an absurd observation.” 

“Mmm, it’s an entirely unsubstantiated theory,” Clarisse agrees, meeting Silena’s eyes. “He has no idea what he’s talking about.” 

“Is that so?” 

Clarisse kisses her softly, just a quick peck on the lips. Now is not the time for flirting or kissing, but Silena has never been very good at impulse control. Any moment could be their last — and they both know it. Silena is going to spend this time wisely. 

Silena arches her neck, angling for a better position to kiss Clarisse, and then yelps when a sudden wave of pain races through her body. She grimaces as her hand flies up to her bandages, to the wounds beneath them. Her body feels less like liquid fire this morning, but it certainly doesn’t feel normal. 

“Can I check them?” Clarisse asks softly. “To make sure they’re healing okay?”

Silena nods and rests her head against the stone wall to provide Clarisse with the room she needs to work. Clarisse carefully and gently removes the bandages from Silena’s neck, careful not to dirty them by setting them on the ground.

Clarisse uses the last of the water to clean the wounds. The warm water feels nice on her skin; so nice she almost forgets about the pain. Almost. Silena hasn’t looked at her wounds yet, for she’s come across no mirror since being taken captive. She isn’t sure she wants to look. What if they’re ugly? What if they scar? 

Silena touches the rough, rigid skin on her neck. The burns are already starting to scab over, to scar. They stretch from below her collarbones up the right side of her face, ending under her jaw. Her arms, too, were badly burned by the acid. She’s terrified to see what they look like under the bandages. 

Clarisse must see the fear in her eyes, because she takes Silena’s shaking hands into her own. 

“You’re going to be okay,” Clarisse says. 

“I know,” Silena agrees, though tears prick at her eyes. “It’s selfish, but I… I’m the daughter of Aphrodite. I’m supposed to be beautiful.” 

She laughs as she says it. She’s so pathetic, to be concerned about something as trivial as this when she is literally a prisoner of war. Though she knows all of that, she can’t help the tears that well up in her eyes. Silena was raised to believe that her beauty was one of the most important parts of her. Aphrodite is beautiful; her daughters must be, too. Beauty is the gateway to love, Aphrodite would say. If you are beautiful, they will all love you. 

Silena isn't sure that's the case. She knows what love is, now. Love is perseverance. Love is anger and defiance and determination. Love is vulnerability. Love is compassion. It has nothing to do with beauty or appearance. Silena would love Clarisse no matter what she looked like. Silena knows, logically, that her knight thinks the same thing of her.

But as Silena runs a finger over her brutalized skin, all she can think about is her mother. 

“You told me once that my scars are beautiful,” Clarisse says. “You said beauty is subjective; that it has no one definition. Do you know what I think? I think you’re still the most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. I think these scars show how strong you are, how much you’ve gone through to survive. There is nothing you would not go through for your people, and I think that is beautiful.” 

The tears slip from Silena’s eyes, wetting her cheeks. Clarisse pulls her closer, as close as she can with her wrists still bound. They sit together, just breathing and enjoying the closeness. Silena rests her head on Clarisse’s shoulder. 

“I know growing up under the critical gaze of your mother was... distressing. I know there's a lot to unpack there, and one day, we will. But I want you to know that I would love you no matter what you look like, Silena. I adore everything about you. These burns are going to scar, and you will look different than before, but... I still think you’re the most beautiful thing in the world,” Clarisse whispers, her cheeks reddening. “No drakon could take that from you.” 

Silena sniffles and allows the rest of the tears to fall from her eyes. When her mother's voice rises up in her mind, whispering cruel words, she shuts it out. Silena loves her mother, but she doesn't believe her. Silena will be different than her mother. She will be better. She will lead her kingdom not from a place of arrogance and luxury, but instead, from a place of kindness and strength. Silena is not her mother. And that's something to be proud of, she thinks. 

"Silena?" Clarisse whispers, pressing a quick kiss to Silena's temple. "Please say something, love. You're making me nervous." 

"Sorry," Silena says, finally emerging from her thoughts. "I was just thinking about what it would have been like to be queen. Do you remember when Persephone pulled me aside in the gardens that day?" 

Clarisse cocks her head to the side, but nods. That was the day they kissed for the second time — that was the day Silena had been totally and completely unable not to reach for Clarisse. But right before they'd finally crossed that line, Persephone had said something to Silena. 

"Being queen will not be easy," Persephone said. "But something tells me you are exactly what our world needs, Silena." 

"No pressure, then," Silena muttered. 

Persephone grinned and pat Silena's arm affectionately. They turned another corner in the garden, ending up in a large clearing with a few alcoves. Clarisse trailed behind them, too far away to overhear their conversation but close enough to defend them should something go wrong. 

"I think you will change Cyprus' legacy forever," Persephone said. "I think you understand the weight of the crown, which is something your mother does not." 

"The only weight she knows of the crown is the physical strain it causes her neck," Silena grumbled. "It's because she had the damn thing plated in real gold. It's fucking heavy." 

"Then it is a good thing you can relieve her of it soon, Silena," Persephone said, as serious as ever. "Without you, I fear what will become of Cyprus."

Silena blinks a few times, the memory so fresh in her mind. She wishes she could go back in time to that day. She'd kiss Clarisse senseless, she'd never marry Luke, and she'd throw everything she had at Kronos. Maybe if she'd acted sooner, if she hadn't gotten so swept away in pleasing everyone around her, she wouldn't be where she is now. Locked up in Kronos' dungeon with the love of her life. 

"When we were walking through the gardens, Persephone said she thinks I'll change Cyprus' legacy forever," Silena admits. "I still don't know what she meant by it, but I think I'm starting to. I want to be different than Aphrodite. I want to help people — really help people. I don't care about our kingdom's history of wealth, luxury, and beauty. I want to forge a different future for my kingdom. One where everyone flourishes. Did you know the war between Aphrodite and Athena started because of their pride? Aphrodite was offended because Athena didn't like her. Athena thought Aphrodite was pompous, arrogant, and, well, a bit of a whore. Which is a fair assessment; she is all of those things. But that's not a bad thing, necessarily. Women should not be so cruelly judged by how many people they take to bed. That's not the point, sorry. Aphrodite hated Athena because she thought Athena was a boring, philosophical nerd. Which, again, isn't entirely wrong." 

Silena takes a deep breath, unsure where she was going with this whole story. Clarisse gazes down at her with nothing but adoration and support, which warms Silena's insides. Clarisse nudges her to keep going, so Silena does. 

"I think the queens missed the chance to better their kingdoms. Instead of going to war because they offended each other, they should have taken the time to learn from each other. Like Annabeth and I have. If I make it out of here and become queen one day, that's what I plan to do. I'm going to listen to my people, and I'm going to listen to my peers. And I'm going to do better than those who came before me." 

When her tirade is finally over, silence settles over the dungeons once more. Clarisse bites her bottom lip, eyes trained on Silena's face. The adoration in her eyes makes Silena's heart flutter. 

"I used to think all royals were the same," Clarisse whispers, her lips close to Silena's temple. "I used to think all they cared about were parties, booze, sex, and money. They didn't care for people like me — the ones bleeding and dying on the battlefields. I hated royals, Silena. I've seen so many people die because of Aphrodite's pride and arrogance. I've lost so many friends." 

Silena swallows heavily, looking down at the ground in shame. Clarisse is right, and it pains Silena to think about it. So many people have died in this years-long war between Aphrodite and Athena. So many people have killed in this war. Clarisse grabs Silena's chin between her fingers and tilts it up so that Silena is looking her in the eyes. 

"And then I met you," Clarisse says, a sparkle in her eye. "An annoying princess who asked too many questions and dragged me around town so she could take care of her people." Silena snorts, thinking of those early days between them with fondness. Before she can offer a retort, though, Clarisse continues, "You slowly brought me back to life, Silena. I was a shell of a person when we met. I was angry and exhausted. I didn't think I'd ever laugh again."

Tears prick at Silena's eyes. She leans in closer to Clarisse, trying to offer some sort of silent reassurance. 

"Do you know what my brothers said when I visited them?" Clarisse asks. "They noticed. They said to hold on tight to whatever was making me smile and care about life again." Clarisse tightens her grip on Silena's hands. "I plan to, you know. I know you're a married woman and everything, but if we make it out of here, Silena... I'm not letting go of you. Ever. You'll never be rid of me again." 

"Thank the gods," Silena whispers. She presses a kiss to Clarisse's lips — soft and tender. "If you keep saying things like that, I'll be forced to take you right here on the floor." 

Clarisse laughs and so does Silena. She’d meant it as a joke, but as the words leave her mouth, Silena is tempted to follow through on them. If they’re going to die here at the hands of Kronos… she’d like to touch Clarisse, just once. 

Before Silena can even turn her head for another kiss, the sounds of clanking armor and footsteps meet her ears. They stand up together and stand side by side as Ethan jogs into the wet, mildew-infested dungeon. He’s breathing heavily, his one eye darting between their faces.

He unlocks the cell with a key, but not before five soldiers join him. They all know of Clarisse’s might, it seems. They’re all heavily armed and cautious. Clarisse takes note of this; Silena sees the way she stands up a little straighter and puffs her chest out. The expression almost makes her laugh. 

“Kronos wants to see you,” Ethan snaps. Silena and Clarisse move forward to the open door, but Ethan grins and places the tip of his sword on Clarisse’s throat. “Just you, princess.” 

For one tense moment, no one moves. Silena locks eyes with Clarisse, silently telling her to back off. I can do this, Silena tells herself. She nods to Clarisse, whose eyes are wide and panicked. Clarisse shakes her head, curls whipping back and forth. “Don’t go,” Clarisse whispers. 

“She doesn’t have a fucking choice,” Ethan snaps. “You either come quietly with me now, or I drag you there by your hair. Let’s go.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Silena tells Clarisse. Then she steps to Ethan’s side and watches as the one-eyed man locks Clarisse in the cell. 

And then Silena is escorted to Kronos’ throne room. Alone. 

+++++

Luke is lounging lazily in a chair near Kronos’ throne when Silena is escorted into the room. Her husband grins at her, waving his fingers in a casual hello. Kronos says nothing as Ethan shoves her forward. She nearly loses her balance but manages to right herself in front of the king. 

“Your mother is marching her armies toward us as we speak,” Kronos says. Alright, then. He’s not one to beat around the bush. The thought of an army coming to save her makes Silena’s heart soar. But then she thinks of the thousands of monsters she saw outside this fort. The harpies, the hellhounds, the other things she doesn’t recognize. There are things here worse than drakons, she’s sure of it.

“And?” Silena snaps. 

Kronos smiles — but there is no mirth or humor in the smile. Only cold, calculating curiosity. “I would like to know your projections for this war. Your mother’s army, and Athena’s, against mine — who do you think will win?” 

“Cyrpus and Pylos,” Silena says without hesitating. There’s a fire in her heart, now. Her people are marching here to defeat Kronos. Monsters or no, they’re going to crush Kronos. Good will triumph over evil. Silena and Clarisse will be saved—

Kronos nods to Ethan, who steps forward and backhands Silena across the face. The smack is so unexpected, so quick, that Silena doesn’t have time to dodge it. She stumbles, her bound hands instantly reaching to her searing face. 

“I did not ask you to speak aloud your prideful hopes and dreams,” Kronos snarls. “Think, Princess Silena. Do you really think your people will win this war?” 

Silena grits her teeth but doesn’t immediately answer. She doesn’t have an updated count on army numbers. It’s been a few weeks since she last attended a war meeting. She has no idea how many soldiers are marching toward her right now. What she does know, though, is how big and dangerous Kronos’ army is. 

She’s seen the monsters. The soldiers. The masked assassins. They’re all highly dangerous, whether that be because of their claws and teeth or skill with a blade. If Aphrodite and Athena really are marching here… the battle that awaits them is going to be horrific and bloody. There will be thousands of casualties. 

Silena clenches her eyes shut, that delicious pride fading quicker than it arrived. Bile rises in her throat as she thinks about the death and carnage that is sure to follow. She’s been trying to avoid a war for so long, and yet here one is. Granted, it’s not the war she thought it would be. 

There has to be something she can do. She may not be able to stop this war, but there has to be something she can do now to delay it… 

“What is it you want me to say?” Silena asks. “That I think you’ll win? That I am terrified of the monsters that prowl in your armies? You already know all of that to be true. What do you want from me?” 

Luke narrows his eyes on her, but says nothing. Kronos leans forward eagerly. “If you bend the knee to me now, I will spare your kingdom. Not your mother, I’m afraid. Aphrodite and Athena must die. But I will spare you, and any others you wish.” Silena immediately thinks of Clarisse. “You and Luke will rule the kingdoms together, united at last.” 

“It’s an interesting offer,” Silena says. “But what I don’t understand is why you’ve traveled across an entire ocean to put Luke on the throne. Why not take it for yourself? Luke is clearly incapable of putting himself on the throne. Why give him the two kingdoms?” 

Luke bristles and pushes out of his seat, but Kronos silences him with a wave of a hand. Kronos smiles as if he at last has found something of interest in Silena. 

“You don’t think Luke worthy of ruling your kingdom?” 

“No,” Silena scoffs. “Luke is incompetent and a fool. He was right last night. Monsters or no, my people will never bow to him. Not after everything he’s done.” 

Luke clenches his jaw, and even across the room, Silena can see the rage in his eyes. Good. That’s exactly what she’d been aiming for. 

“So you will not accept my very generous offer?” Kronos asks, looking amused. “I could save you and your dog in the dungeons. Your sister, your friends in Pylos, your servants. All you must do is bend the knee to me now. Surrender.” 

It physically pains Silena to hear the names of the people she could save. She thinks of Charles Beckendorf and Lee Fletcher, then. People who died because of her mistakes. She thinks of Rachel, Piper, Percy, and Annabeth; if she surrendered now, would Kronos truly spare them? It's so tempting...

She has to continually remind herself that Kronos is evil; Luke is evil. If they rule, they will destroy Olympia. They care not for the lives of innocent people — only for power. Silena might be dooming her people to a horrific war, but at least she’s not signing them up for life under Kronos’ reign. Because no matter what Luke thinks, it is Kronos who will rule Olympia. He might allow Luke to sit on the throne, to make the speeches, but it will be Kronos who pulls the strings. There is no doubt in Silena’s mind, now. 

“No. I will see your kingdom burn before I bend the knee.”  

“So be it.” 

Kronos waves his hand through the air, and Ethan moves toward her yet again. His face is expressionless as he grips her arm and drags her from the throne room. She struggles against him, desperate to learn more from Kronos, but the guy is strong. He lugs her down the hallway, a group of soldiers trailing behind him. 

“Let go of me!” Silena snarls. She’s surprised when Ethan listens and releases her arm. She rolls her shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension building there. “When will Olympia’s armies reach the fort?” 

Ethan doesn’t answer. He just leads her back to the dungeons. She wracks her brain, trying to figure out how long it would take that many soldiers to reach this fort. The only problem is, she doesn’t know where this fort is. It’s on the coast, that much she knows. But how far north? How far did they travel when fleeing the castle? Silena doesn’t have all the information she needs to make a decision, and it’s tearing her apart. 

She does know one thing, though. Now that Kronos knows she has no intention of bending the knee, he doesn’t need her anymore. She is of no use to him anymore, which means he can have her killed at any time. 

Right. Okay. Now is not the time to panic. Silena forces herself to take a few deep breaths. She needs a plan. She has no desire to end up in a cell again. She has maybe five minutes until they reach the dungeons — she needs to think quickly. 

“Are you from Cyprus?” she asks Ethan. This time, he nods his head. “Do you hate it so much that you’d want Kronos to rule it?” 

Ethan clenches his jaw. Then, “I am tired of the older generations ruling. Athena, Aphrodite, Hermes, Apollo, Ares… what good have they done for our continent? If Luke and Kronos can provide something different, I’ll help.” 

“Different doesn’t mean better.” 

Ethan shrugs, indicating this conversation is clearly over. Alright, new tactic. Silena walks silently for a few moments before dramatically stumbling and collapsing to the floor. She sobs loudly, covering her face with her hands. As she predicted, Ethan looks incredibly awkward and annoyed as he tries to hoist her to her feet. She keeps her legs loose and noodle-y beneath her, never standing up fully. 

She sobs again, throwing her arms around the soldier’s neck. Ethan tenses when she touches him; he stands frozen, as if a statue. 

“Get off me, woman.” 

“I’m just so scared! ” she wails, which is technically not a lie. “I’m going to die here, away from my family, and no one is going to know. Oh! I’m just so terrified. There are monsters outside! How do you walk around so calmly?” 

Ethan pulls her off of him, but his face has softened. He looks less annoyed now, and more awkward. The soldiers behind him look confused and bored. Another good sign. 

“It took some getting used to,” Ethan admits, glancing out the window to the lawn. Hellhounds howl as they chase each other around the grounds. 

For the finishing touch, Silena swoons. She holds her hand to her forehead dramatically, falling into Ethan’s arms right when a harpy flaps past the window. He grunts as he catches her and steadies her. She comes to, fanning her face dramatically. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m just so… so overwhelmed. I don’t know how you do it.” 

Silena has known how to manipulate a man since she was fifteen years old. She’s gotten it down to a science, now. She just has to spend a little time with her mark to learn what he wants. If she can figure out what a man wants, what he needs, she can use him. It became a very useful tool in court when she needed people to agree with her. 

Now, it seems, it’s a useful tool when manipulating enemy soldiers. 

Ethan sighs and glances over his shoulder to the soldiers waiting there. “Go on,” he tells them. “I can handle her.” 

“But sir, the Lady of Bloodshed—” 

“She’d never do anything to endanger me,” Silena says, faking another little sob. 

“You heard her,” Ethan mutters. With a smirk, he adds,  “I can handle La Rue, don’t worry.” 

Arrogant son of a bitch. The soldiers trade a few looks amongst themselves, then shrug and head back down the hall. Ethan pats Silena on the shoulder as she pretends to dry her tears. After a moment, she looks up at him under dark lashes. 

“Thank you for sending them away,” Silena murmurs. “I just need a moment to collect myself.” 

Ethan nods, watching her as she dries her tears and runs a hand through her hair. She wipes her face again, then turns to face him and nods. He leads her back down to the dungeons without a word. 

Men can be very predictable. Some, like Luke and Ethan, look at a princess and think she has no real concept of the world around her. She’s naive. Weak. Spoiled. When she cries in the hallway because she sees a big, scary monster, they think it’s their idea to send away the onlookers. In their minds, they think they’re being chivalrous. A rare display of their kindness, for a weak and broken woman.

Pfft. 

When they’re standing outside the cell, Silena notices the light in Clarisse’s eyes. She offers her knight a small, mischievous smile. 

“Back up, dog!” Ethan shouts at Clarisse. 

Clarisse obeys, pressing her back to the farthest wall. Ethan shoves the key into the lock and opens the door, motioning for Silena to enter. She takes a step forward, as if to obey, and then looks up into his face. 

“Thank you, Ethan,” she says. His gaze softens for just a moment — so Silena punches him right in the face. He stumbles back, hands reaching to his nose. He roars in anger, but before he can retaliate against Silena, Clarisse crashes into him.

She slams into him like a brick wall, knocking both of them to the muddy ground. They roll around for a moment while Silena watches. Clarisse’s hands are still tied, but that doesn’t seem to be inhibiting her at the moment. She uses her elbows, knees, and forehead to beat Ethan. She keeps him pinned to the ground, though he tries desperately to buck her off or land a punch. 

The fight comes to an end when Clarisse wraps her arms around his neck, like a headlock. After a few moments of struggling for air, Ethan’s body collapses to the ground, unmoving. 

Clarisse lies there for a moment, breathing heavily. Then pushes herself to her feet. Silena embraces her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. Clarisse uses Ethan’s sword to cut her bonds, then Silena’s. All the while, Silena tells her what she learned from Kronos. 

“Aphrodite and Athena are marching here right now,” Silena says. “They could be here any minute.” 

“This is not good,” Clarisse mutters. She searches Ethan’s body for more weapons, coming up with two knives and a sword. She gives the knives to Silena, keeping the sword for herself. “If a war starts here, we’re fucked, Sil. No one knows we’re here, much less that we’re alive.” 

“But if they see us—” 

“War is chaos,” Clarisse says, shaking her head. “You stab whatever moves. Some soldiers get so confused they attack their own. It’s all chaos. It’s dark and muddy and bloody. If there’s smoke, that makes it even worse. We do not want to get caught in the middle of a battlefield—” 

Silena places her hands on either side of Clarisse’s face, trying to calm the other woman down. She’s panicking, Silena realizes. Clarisse has been to war dozens of times, but… but maybe it was never as easy a thing as she pretended it was. 

“Sorry,” Clarisse whispers, her breaths coming more evenly now. 

“Do not apologize,” Silena says. “You’re right. We need to get out of here now. ” 

Unfortunately, it’s right at that moment that the entire fort shakes from an explosion. The ceiling above them shudders, bits of stone and wood falling from it. Clarisse grips Silena’s arm and starts pulling her to the stairs leading out of the dungeon. 

“Run!” Clarisse shouts, shoving her forward. Silena takes the stairs two at a time as the entire building shudders from another impact. Somewhere above them, monsters howl and roar. Battlecries. 

The war between worlds has begun.

Chapter 22: chapter twenty-two

I walk on the line
Between worlds, got no sides
On the edge of a knife
You gotta fight for your life
Can’t stop the world from changing
Even though your hearts are breaking
I feel the power’s fading 
It’s all in the way you play the game

“The Game” by Starbenders

+++++

The battle rages around them. Massive stones slam into the fort, knocking over walls and crumbling ceilings. Burning arrows pelt the ground, the fire spreading to the rugs and straw-covered floors of the abandoned fort. Smoke and debris cling to the air, tainting it. Silena can barely breathe properly as Clarisse drags her through the crumbling fort. 

They leap over fallen walls; they duck under tables when the arrows start flying; they hide when Kronos’ soldiers come sprinting down the hallways. Everything is chaos. There is no correct way to go; no easy solution. Silena clings to Clarisse’s hand, not only for comfort but so they don’t get separated. 

Screeches and howls fill the air. Kronos is preparing his counter-attack. 

Clarisse pulls Silena down another hall, which is full of broken windows and fallen stones. They carefully pick their way through the hallway. It takes too much time — time they don’t have — but Clarisse is careful not to make Silena step on broken glass. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Silena’s skin crawls when she recognizes the voice. She glances over her shoulder to see her husband, Luke Castellan, glaring at her from the end of the hallway. His face is already splattered with blood; his stygian iron longsword coated in it. 

Beyond the walls of the fort, the screaming starts. The monsters must be descending on Aphrodite and Athena’s armies. 

Clarisse tugs on Silena’s hand, tugging her behind her. “Keep going,” Clarisse says, motioning to the end of the hall, which hopefully opens up to the outdoors. “I’ll buy you time.” 

“Clarisse, no—”

“Go, my love.” 

Clarisse pulls the sword she took from Ethan in front of her and glares at Luke, who watches the interaction with raised eyebrows. Luke looks between the two women, realization dawning on his face. Silena smirks at him with sick satisfaction. There seems no point in hiding it, now. War has begun and Luke is her enemy. What does it matter if he knows she’s in love with Clarisse?

Silena carefully moves to the end of the hall, leaving Clarisse between herself and Luke. 

“Ethan died like a reckless fool,” Clarisse growls. “Ready to join him?” 

Instead of answering, Luke launches into a sprint down the hall. Clarisse stands in the middle, still a few good yards away from him, and braces herself. Silena knows she should run. She shouldn’t waste this time, this opportunity to slip away while Kronos’ right hand man is distracted. 

But Clarisse. She will not leave Clarisse. 

The next few seconds take an eternity. Luke rushes toward Clarisse; her knight prepares to fight; the screech of monsters gets louder outside. And then the next thing Silena knows, the wall is blown apart. 

Stones clatter to the ground, debris fills the air, and the floor shudders beneath her feet. The hallway seems to crack in two, leaving Luke on one side and the women on the other. Silena doesn’t wait to see if Luke will follow; she grabs Clarisse’s arm and tugs her stupidly brave knight to safety. 

They run. 

They run down the rest of the hall, which is cracking and crumbling beneath them. More stones — thrown from catapults — slam into the building all around them. Silena and Clarisse don’t say a word to each other as they push their bodies to the breaking point. At full speed, Clarisse rams her shoulder into a wooden door, knocking the entire thing off its hinges. 

And then there’s sunlight. 

They’re outside, but certainly not in any better shape. A volley of arrows slams into the ground around them, one catching Clarisse in the shoulder. She shouts in pain, but wastes no time in shoving Silena to the ground and draping herself on top. 

Silena whimpers as Clarisse crushes her into the grass; she can do nothing to protect her knight as another arrow slams into Clarisse’s back. Clarisse grunts, her face inches from Silena's, and clenches her eyes shut to ward off the pain. When the archers pause to reload, Clarisse jumps up and pulls Silena after her. The two arrows in her body shake and shudder as Clarisse sprints through the grass, Silena right behind her. 

The archers are Kronos’ men, Silena is pretty sure. They’re positioned behind the fort on a hill — and they’re aiming for the approaching armies. Silena and Clarisse just so happened to wander into the crossfire. 

When they crest a hill, finally out of reach of the archers, Silena lays eyes on the battlefield for the first time. 

The fort is crumbling and smoking, but that doesn’t appear to be stopping Kronos. The King of Tartarus sits on a skeletal horse as he leads his army into battle. Hellhounds, harpies, and other nightmarish creatures howl as they slam into their opponents. The human armies from Cyprus and Pylos are here; decked out in their national colors, their armor gleaming in the setting sun, they shout bravely as they go to war against hell’s creatures. 

The two sides clash, and the screaming gets louder. From their spot on the hill, Clarisse and Silena can see it all. Horses are taken down by hellhounds; archers are picked off by harpies; and soldiers are torn apart by shadowy monsters. But it’s not in vain. Silena watches as Percy Jackson slams into the front line, a blur of bronze and blood. Percy roars defiantly as he swings his bloody sword at an enemy soldier. 

Reyna is on the front lines, too. Her face is cold and calm as she wades through the battle, her weapons an extension of her body. No one survives her. 

Ares and Bellona lead the charge. The two war chiefs stand side by side, blades gleaming. They are a terrifying sight to behold; Silena’s knees go a little weak underneath her. Clarisse staggers forward, breathing heavily from the run and her wounds. 

“I need you to break the arrow shafts off,” she gasps. 

Silena pales as she realizes what Clarisse is saying. Nonetheless, she steps forward and grasps one of the arrows protruding from Clarisse’s back. She counts to three, then snaps the feathered end off of the arrow. 

“Push it through.” 

Good gods. Silena takes a deep breath, reminds herself Clarisse is far more uncomfortable than she is, and shoves the arrow through Clarisse’s body. When it comes out the other side, Clarisse gasps and wrenches it out of herself. Silena has no time to admire her knight, because Clarisse is now instructing her to do it again. 

She does. She snaps the end off, shoves it into Clarisse’s body, and tries not to cry. With a shout of pain, Clarisse wrenches it out off her chest and tosses the bloody arrow to the ground. She staggers again, her face a ghostly shade of white. 

“We need to move,” Clarisse says, eyeing a few harpies circling in the sky high above them. “Kronos will send soldiers after us.” 

Silena takes one of Clarisse’s arms and throws it over her shoulders, offering her lover some support. Clarisse doesn't argue, which is how Silena knows the injuries are bad. 

“Where do we go?” Silena asks, watching the battle unfold below them. 

“Not there,” Clarisse grunts. “We should skirt around the battle. Stick to the cliffs and river.” 

Silena nods in agreement. For now, it’s as good a plan as any. They slowly pick their way down the hill, careful to stay under the cover of trees. The harpies that aren’t engaging in the battle circle in the skies above, probably with orders to attack anyone trying to escape. 

If Luke didn’t die in that hallway, he’s likely already told Kronos about their escape. As long as Aphrodite, Piper, and Silena live, Luke will never be able to rule the people of Cyprus. He needs them dead. Silena has no doubt her husband is going to track her down. 

She’ll kill him before she lets him take her kingdom. 

+++++

Even though they try to skirt around the battle, monsters still catch sight of them and come to attack. Unfortunately, Cyprus and Pylos’ armies are too busy getting slaughtered to offer help. Silena pulls her two daggers in front of her as a hellhound comes bounding towards them. Clarisse stumbles as soon as Silena lets go of her — which is not a good sign. 

Silena plants her feet in the dirt, bends her knees, and grips her knives the way Clarisse taught her to. Clarisse takes up a similar stance; sweat drips down her pale face. Silena wishes they had the time to slow down, patch up Clarisse’s wounds, and rest. But they don’t. 

The hellhound leaps at Silena, knocking her into the dirt. Silena manages to shove one of her daggers into its neck; black blood oozes from the wound and coats Silena’s face. The dog dies on top of her, its massive body trapping her against the ground. 

Oh, great. She’s going to die here trapped under this nasty, stinking dog. 

The carcass moves. Suddenly Silena can see the sky again — the setting sun. And Clarisse’s worried face. Clarisse drags the monster off of her, then helps her up and crushes Silena in a bear hug. 

“I’m okay, darling,” Silena tells her, rubbing Clarisse’s back. Clarisse is trembling in her arms; Silena doesn’t know if it’s from fear or pain. “I’m okay.” 

Clarisse pulls back, assessing her for injuries — which is a bit ironic considering Clarisse is currently bleeding from her own. Silena steadies the other woman, who is now swaying slightly. 

“But you’re not,” Silena murmurs. “We need to find somewhere for you to rest.” 

Clarisse snorts, “Absolutely not. We need to keep moving.” 

Silena loves Clarisse. She loves her bravery, her anger, her softness. Silena even loves her stubbornness. But right now, she’s about ready to slap her lover. 

“You are such a stubborn ass,” Silena mutters, glaring up at the woman she loves. Clarisse grins cheekily. 

Arms thrown around each other for support, they continue their pathetic hobble down the cliffside. After what feels like hours of slow, careful climbing, they finally make it down the cliff and find solid land. A few miles away, the battle still rages. Silena can’t see the armies anymore, but she can certainly hear them. The sun is slowly setting on the horizon, casting an orange glow down on the ground. It brings her no comfort. 

In a rare stroke of luck, they find a cave to hide in. Clarisse collapses on the ground, her face significantly paler. She props herself up on the side of the cave, sword lying across her lap. 

“I’m not going to make it through the night without something to slow the bleeding,” Clarisse tells her. She says it calmly, like those aren’t the scariest words Silena has ever heard in her life. 

Silena stands above her, hands shaking and chest heaving. She can’t — won’t — lose Clarisse. Silena has not gone through hell and back just to lose the love of her life. Absolutely not. 

“What do I do?” Silena asks, her voice oddly calm. She sets her jaw and clenches her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. 

“Look for… yarrow,” Clarisse says between ragged breaths. “It slows… bleeding. Heals injuries. Looks like…” She takes a deep breath, her eyes fluttering. “Looks like… tiny white… flowers.” 

Silena watches as Clarisse slips into unconsciousness. One moment her lover is looking at her, giving instructions, and the next Clarisse is passed out with her eyes rolling back in her head. The sudden change is alarming, and it makes tears prick in Silena’s eyes. 

Is this what Clarisse felt like when Silena was near death after the drakon burns? It must be. Silena feels like she can’t quite breathe properly; no matter how many times she inhales and exhales, it’s like she can’t catch her breath. 

She kisses Clarisse’s forehead, covers the entrance of the cave with fallen branches, and scrambles around the mountainside in search of the miraculous white flowers. 

+++++

When she finally finds a patch of yarrow, she grabs as much as she can hold and sprints back to the cave. The sun has long since set, now, and it’s hard to make her way across the terrain in the dark. She slips and falls a few times, banging up her knees and shins. Her palms are cut open and bleeding, but she never once drops the flowers. 

When she slips back into the cave, Clarisse isn’t where Silena left her. 

For a solid five seconds, Silena panics. A strangled gasp escapes her lips, her body starts shaking, and she thinks oh no, Luke found us. 

But then she sees Clarisse slumped against the back wall of the cave, her sword lying beside her. Something else is there, too — a massive black dog. A hellhound. It’s dead, a dagger stuck in its skull. 

Oh, gods. Silena rushes to the back of the cave, dropping to her knees beside Clarisse. She’s still breathing, thank the gods. She’s got a few new gashes and scrapes on her face and arms, but it doesn’t look like the monster managed to maim her too seriously. 

Silena turns Clarisse onto her back, swallowing down her nerves and fears. Clarisse’s eyes flutter, but that’s about all she does. She doesn’t even make a sound as Silena tugs her shirt up and off of her. Her chest is bloody and dirty; the two new arrow wounds have stopped bleeding, now, but they look… bad. 

Silena forces herself to inhale through her nose to slow her breathing. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to recall that night so long ago when Will Solace had patched Clarisse up. 

It was a very different wound, and Will came supplied with all the medicine and materials he could possibly need. Silena will have to make do with what she can. 

She ends up finding some water in a stream a few yards away from the cave. She transports it back to the cave by using big leaves as cups. It takes multiple trips, but she finally manages to clean Clarisse’s wounds. After that, she’s not exactly sure what to do. 

Clarisse said yarrow would help slow the bleeding and heal her injuries, but how? By eating it? Stewing it? How the fuck is Silena supposed to know? She might know how to win over a room of nobles, write a speech, and solve political disputes — but she has no fucking idea what to do with this. 

In the end, she decides to mash up the yarrow with a rock and make a sort of poultice out of it. The mush ends up looking green and gross, but Silena lathers it all over Clarisse’s various wounds. It smells exactly like the stuff Clarisse used on Silena’s burns. Silena really hopes she didn’t fuck it up. 

She understands, now, what Clarisse meant when she said don’t go where I can’t follow. Silena would let Clarisse bring her anywhere. She’d follow her lover far from home, far from the people she knows and loves — she’d go anywhere as long as Clarisse was with her. Silena would walk into battle for Clarisse, just as Clarisse would for her. She’d walk into hell for Clarisse. But now Clarisse has gone somewhere that Silena cannot follow her. 

Silena watches as Clarisse goes absolutely still. As her body relaxes, her eyes roll back, and her breathing steadies out. Silena has to touch her fingers to Clarisse’s neck just to make sure there’s still a pulse. 

She hates how often she’s seen Clarisse like this. She’s seen Clarisse take an arrow to the chest. She’s seen Clarisse thrown into the air by an explosion. She’s seen her barely breathing while Will sewed her up. She’s seen Clarisse in pain far too often. 

When she’s sure there’s nothing else she can do for Clarisse, Silena takes the knight’s sword and stands guard at the entrance of the cave. Tomorrow, she’ll have to figure out what to do about the war, the armies, and Kronos. Tonight, she’s going to make sure nothing else creeps into this cave to try and kill her girlfriend. 

+++++

Morning comes too quickly. A cold, bitter breeze blows into the cave, stirring up dust and dirt. Silena shivers, curling closer to Clarisse. She slept right next to the other woman, trying to offer her body heat to Clarisse. She didn’t dare make a fire last night — partly because she didn’t know how, and also because she figured it would draw too much attention in the dark. 

Silena sits up and checks Clarisse’s wounds. They look… fine? They certainly don’t look worse, which she figures is a good thing. Clarisse stirs on the ground, her eyes finally opening. Silena stares into those brown eyes and something tight in her chest loosens. 

“Good morning beautiful,” Silena whispers. 

Clarisse smiles and pushes herself into a sitting position, wincing at each movement. Silena protests, but to no avail — Clarisse does what she wants. Clarisse runs a hand over the dried-up mush that Silena slathered all over her chest last night. 

“You saved me,” Clarisse murmurs, looking at Silena under dark eyelashes. “Thank you.” 

Silena launches herself at Clarisse, wrapping her arms around the other woman tightly. She spent the whole night waking up from nightmares about Clarisse dying. To see her awake, smiling, alive… Silena has never known joy and gratitude like this. 

“Payback for the thousand times you’ve save me,” Silena whispers, still clinging to Clarisse. “I couldn’t… Clarisse, when you wouldn’t wake up, I…” 

“I know.” 

And she does know. Silena can’t imagine the terror Clarisse felt in that wagon days ago, when Silena was barely holding onto her life. Clarisse was alone, terrified, and being held prisoner all while Silena died in her arms. Last night, Silena watched as Clarisse fought to hang on, and it was… well, it was the worst thing she’s ever endured. She’d go through a dozen more drakon attacks willingly if it meant Clarisse was never in danger again. 

Love is going to be the death of her. 

Silena kisses Clarisse softly. Just a quick, comforting kiss to let both of them know they’re alive.

“We need to go,” Silena says. “Can you walk? I heard howling this morning. They sounded close.” 

Clarisse grimaces and glances at the stiff, dead body of the hellhound she’d had to fight off last night while Silena was gathering the yarrow. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

Silena helps her to her feet, then helps her pull her shirt back on over her injured chest. At least the clothes Kronos gave them are durable and thick, even if they are itchy as hell. And ugly. 

“You just love getting me out of my clothes, huh?” Clarisse says playfully. 

“Mhmm,” Silena agrees, kissing her on the cheek. “One day, when all this is over, I plan on spending all day and all night with you where there are no clothes involved.” 

Clarisse’s cheeks turn bright red, which makes Silena laugh softly. “Gods,” Clarisse murmurs, fanning her face. “You can’t say stuff like that this early in the morning. How am I supposed to focus?”

Silena laughs again, her heart warming with each huff of breath. How had she ever lived without Clarisse? How had she ever laughed? Clarisse brings a sense of familiarity and clarity to Silena’s life that she’s never known before. Now that she has Clarisse, she can’t imagine any version of a life without her.  

“I’ve got to make sure you remember what we’re fighting for,” Silena muses, kissing Clarisse on the neck. 

“Fuck saving the world from Kronos,” Clarisse hums. “I’m doing all this just to get a night with you in bed.” 

“Exactly,” Silena agrees with a laugh. They share one last kiss before wading out of the cave into the sunlight. Silena heard the sounds of battle all through the night, but it seems to have quieted, now. She’s not sure if that’s a good thing. 

She and Clarisse hobble through the countryside, sticking close to the cliffside of the River Styx. The cliffs are precarious, which makes their travels take even longer. With one slip or a shift in the rocks, the two of them could be falling hundreds of feet into the river. 

When they finally take a break on the crest of a hill, Silena lays eyes on the battlefield. The two armies seem to have retreated, at least partially. Aphrodite and Athena have set up tents and command centers on the edge of the forest, their army surrounding them. They have catapults and siege towers with them. 

Kronos’ army seems to have retreated into the destroyed fort, though some of the larger monsters still loiter outside. 

“What are they waiting on? Surely it hasn’t ended yet?” Silena asks. 

“They’re burning the dead,” Clarisse murmurs. Sure enough, Silena now notices the two distinct spirals of black smoke coming from each side. It makes her stomach turn. When Silena looks at her, Clarisse’s eyes are hazy. As if she’s recalling memories of the past. “Once the battlefield is clear of bodies, it’ll begin again.” 

“They’ll just keep fighting and dying and burning bodies until no one’s left,” Silena mutters. 

“That’s war.” 

Gods. Silena’s stomach starts roiling, bile rising up in her throat as she watches the smoke billow into the air. How many people died yesterday? How many of her friends? She can’t bear to think about it. If Percy or Reyna… 

Silena clenches her eyes shut, thinking of all the friends she’s already lost. She thinks of Eros and Psyche, her friends who live in Cyprus. Did Eros come here to fight? Is Psyche all alone at home wondering if her husband died? Did she come to fight? 

Just thinking of it makes her more nauseous. It makes rage and hatred build up in her chest. Oh, gods. Did Clarisse’s brothers come to fight? Did they join their father in battle, desperate to find their older sister? 

“Luke and Kronos will pay for this,” Silena growls. 

Before she can say more, Clarisse shushes her. Silena clamps her mouth shut immediately, dropping into a crouch next to her knight. She follows Clarisse’s line of sight, down the cliffside to the edge of the forest near Kronos’ fort. 

A small party of people dressed in black is making their way up the cliffside. There have to be twenty of them total; all dressed in stygian iron armor. The black metal glints in the sun. Even from up here, Silena knows who that is. 

“Luke,” she whispers. “He’s hunting us.” 

“But why?” Clarisse mutters. “He should be leading the charge in the war, not leading a hunting party into the countryside.” 

“It’s personal for him,” Silena says. “I may have said that he’d make a terrible ruler and insulted his pride in front of Kronos.” 

Clarisse snorts, her eyes filling with pride as she looks at Silena. “He’s only proving you right by abandoning his soldiers on the battlefield. A real leader would be down there, fighting alongside their men. Luke’s just an arrogant ass.” 

“He has his reasons for wanting to tear down the kingdoms,” Silena says, thinking of Hermes, Athena, and Aphrodite. “He wasn’t entirely wrong. Things need to change.” 

“He invited a sadistic evil king and an army of monsters to our continent and killed a bunch of our friends,” Clarisse deadpans. 

“Yes, well, I never said he was going about it the right way,” Silena responds. 

They watch Luke’s hunting party for another minute before seeing something even more terrible. A drakon follows Luke’s group, tailing them at a comfortable distance up the cliffside. It doesn’t attack them; instead, it takes orders from them. From Luke. 

“Fucking great,” Clarisse mutters. “Come on, let’s move. They have horses and can catch up to us pretty quick if we don’t cover some ground.” 

They set out at a brisk pace, picking their way through the dense forest of the cliffside. Though they’re both determined to leave Luke and the drakon far behind, determination doesn’t make up for exhaustion. Clarisse is still injured, and Silena is, too. The burns covering her neck and arms tug and itch as they walk through the forest. Her feet ache with every step. There’s not a single part of her body that isn’t in pain. 

They slow down a lot as they begin to go down the mountainside, aiming for Aphrodite and Athena’s camp. It’s not an ideal place to be, but at least they’ll be safer amongst their own people. 

They’re about halfway down the mountain when things start to go wrong. 

First, the forest around them goes entirely silent. During the hours they’ve spent trudging through the forest, Silena had become accustomed to the song of birds, the chirp of crickets, and the other generic sounds of life in a forest. Now, though, there’s nothing. Not even the buzz of a fly. 

Clarisse slows her pace, tilting her head to the trees. She’s noticed it too, then. Clarisse draws her sword and holds it in front of her as she continues walking. Silena does the same, holding her dagger tightly in her hand. 

The next thing Silena hears is the pounding of hooves. 

Ahead of her, Clarisse swears colorfully. As the hoofbeats get louder, Clarisse and Silena stand back to back, knowing they have no chance of outrunning the horses. 

And then Luke is there, grinning down at them from the back of his warhorse. His men aren’t with him — yet. Luke rides into the clearing alone, a drakon slithering behind him. 

This drakon isn’t like the one that burned Silena. It’s larger, with green scales rather than black ones. Its scales look just as thick and armor-like, though. Its yellow eyes land on Silena, who flinches and looks away. 

She can feel her skin burning. Her injuries ache and itch, and it takes all of her self-control not to sob at the sight of yet another drakon. 

Clarisse scowls at Luke, pointing her sword at him. “One-on-one, pretty boy. Me and you. Or are you so scared of me you want to bring the giant worm into it, too?” 

Luke snorts and dismounts, drawing his sword. “You can’t bait me into a fight, La Rue.” 

Silena begs to differ. “What are you doing here, Luke? You’re here wandering through a forest hunting an unarmed princess instead of leading your terrifying army into battle. I’m sure that will end up in the songs and ballads.” 

Luke’s jaw clenches, his eyes darkening as they land on her. Silena does not look away from him. Not this time. “I will make a good ruler, Silena. You might not think so, but I will.” 

“You won’t live long enough to find out,” Silena says with confidence. 

Luke smirks and twirls his sword through the air, the afternoon sun glinting off the dark blade. “We’ll see. Kronos is leading our armies to victory. Already, the armies from Cyprus and Pylos are pulling back. They’ve called for reinforcements, but they’ll all be dead before help comes. I’d give it two more days, and then I’ll be on the throne ruling Olympia.” 

“In your fucking dreams,” Clarisse growls. 

Silena tightens her grip on the dagger and sizes Luke up. If they’re going to make it out of this situation alive, she needs to make her move now before Luke’s men catch up with him. Silena glances at the drakon out of the corner of her eye. It's curled up and waiting for an order from Luke, yellow eyes glued to Silena and Clarisse. 

Silena can’t face it. She can’t. That terror is still there in the pit of her stomach; the memories of the other drakon nearly killing her. Scarring her, marking her as weak for the rest of her life. No, Silena can’t fight a drakon. 

But she can fight Luke. 

“Lady of Bloodshed,” Silena calls. Clarisse perks up and tears her eyes off of Luke to look at Silena. “I can handle my husband. Would you mind taking care of the snake?”

Clarisse grins. There is no mirth or humor in the smile — only pure, vicious glee. Clarisse nods an affirmative, her eyes narrowing on the monster. Silena watches in awe as Clarisse slips into the predatory calm of a warrior. She relaxes her shoulders, bends her knees, and twirls her sword through the air as she sizes up the monster. It’s hot. 

Luke laughs, which draws Silena’s attention away from her knight. Silena just shrugs, laughs along with him, and then launches herself at her husband.

Notes:

uh oh! what do YOU think is going to happen?

Chapter 23: chapter twenty-three

Notes:

it is simply so sexy to me when devotion becomes ruthlessness. when a character says "i would do anything for you" and they MEAN IT.

Oh, come and get me
Drag me out, destroy me
I've been expecting you, I'm ready

"Dream Girl Evil" by Florence + The Machine

+++++

Silena pretends she’s Clarisse. She has no real training in combat, but she’s studied every single move she’s ever seen Clarisse make. She’s been watching Clarisse for months, now. In training sessions, in fights, even just stretching. Clarisse has even taught her how to use a dagger, though not extensively. As Silena fights against Luke, she pretends she’s Clarisse. She pretends she’s as brave, powerful, and strong as Clarisse — and it’s almost enough. 

The ferocity of Silena’s attacks must catch Luke by surprise, because he stumbles back from her and has to rush to defend himself. Since he has a sword and she only has a dagger, Silena keeps a healthy distance from him, careful not to let him too close. She knows she’s not as good at him; she won’t allow herself to make a stupid mistake. 

Behind her, Clarisse roars and attacks the drakon — the beast lets out an ear-shattering shriek. Silena says a silent prayer of protection for her lover and focuses her attention on Luke. 

Her husband glares at her when he says, “You’re no soldier, Silena. Do you really want to die here?” 

Silena dodges his attack, steps into his personal space, and slams her fist into his nose. Before he can retaliate against her, she’s dancing out of range. Her speed is her only advantage; Luke is an excellent swordsman. She has no desire to go toe-to-toe with him. 

“We could have had the world at our fingertips, Silena,” he growls. 

As she looks at him, Silena realizes just how similar she and Luke are. He’s so angry. He’s angry at his father, his queen, at the entire world. He was mistreated by his father and ignored by his queen. He was forced to stand by and watch as his kingdom, his home, slipped further and further into disrepair, all because Athena and Aphrodite were too proud to call off their war. Silena understands his anger because it’s hers, too. 

Luke is what she could have become if not for people like Annabeth, Piper, and Clarisse. Annabeth’s wisdom curbed Silena’s hatred. Piper’s joy reminded Silena of the sanctity of life and the importance of looking out for the weakest. Clarisse… Clarisse has taught Silena a whole host of lessons, but most importantly she taught Silena that it’s okay to question the order of things. Clarisse has never once followed the rules — and Silena loves her for it. 

Silena avoids another one of his swings by ducking under it and stepping back. This only seems to infuriate Luke more. His moves get less and less precise the angrier he gets, which makes things only somewhat easier for Silena. He’s less precise, but he’s also unpredictable. 

“You’d rather have a bastard knight than me?!” Luke snarls. “I’d make you queen!” 

Silena dances out of range again, her heart pounding in her chest. The comment about Clarisse makes her angry, though. Angry enough to talk back to him. 

“She is ten times the person you are,” Silena growls. “You killed dozens of people to get to me. You were going to kill my entire family on our wedding night, Luke!” 

Luke bellows, spit flying from his mouth. He’s beyond angry, now. He’s teetering on the edge of madness; the point of no return. Silena blocks one of his attacks with her dagger, but Luke is so strong and full of fury that his blade snaps Silena’s right in two. 

She scrambles away from him, but there’s nowhere to go. A horrible grin comes to his face as he advances on her. 

+++++

Clarisse rolls to avoid the drakon’s massive teeth. She swings her sword up, and it connects with the monster’s face, but the scales are so thick that the blade doesn’t do any damage. She avoids looking it in the eyes, because she saw what that did to Silena. 

The first time they’d encountered a drakon, Clarisse had watched as Silena went entirely still; as she was powerless to stop the fear from overwhelming her. Something about a drakon’s eyes paralyzes its victims. Clarisse doesn’t know what it is or how it works, but she knows she won’t fall prey to it. 

She lurches into a roll, avoiding another snap of teeth. This drakon, while bigger than the last, is also quicker than the last.

"I am Clarisse the Drakon-Slayer,” she growls. “You will not beat me.” 

She flings herself at the beast, remembering everything she learned about the species from her last fight with a drakon. Its armor is impenetrable. Its eyes paralyze you. It sprays acid. 

As if on cue, the drakon rears its head up and spews acid at Clarisse. She barely has time to duck and roll before the green liquid slams into the ground where she’d just been. The acid immediately begins eating away at the grass and ground, leaving a smoldering hole. Good gods, how had Silena survived that? 

The memories of Silena’s screams threaten to overwhelm Clarisse, then. She stares at the acid in the grass and all she can think of is Silena’s screams of pain. Silena, writhing on the floor. Silena, sobbing and begging for death. The smell of burning skin, the sound of unimaginable pain. 

Clarisse stumbles, her breath coming quicker, and looks at the drakon with wide eyes. Unfortunately, the beast is looking at her, too. She looks into its yellow eyes and suddenly she can’t move. 

Clarisse is usually an unstoppable force in battle. She doesn’t get scared. But as she looks into those eerie yellow eyes, she sees every terrible thought she’s ever had. Images flash in her mind; her brothers’ bodies being picked apart by crows on a battlefield; her friends in chains; her father leering at her; Silena’s dead body. 

Every fear she’s ever had materializes in front of her. Ares is yelling at her, telling her she’s nothing like her mother. She’s an embarrassment. She’s useless. She’ll never be like Deimos — she’ll never be fearless and brave. She will always be the weak one. 

Clarisse’s knees wobble beneath her. She’s vaguely aware of someone screaming her name. 

Yellow eyes. Red skies, like blood. She’s so used to blood. Will she ever be clean of it? 

“Clarisse!” 

Those yellow eyes, still staring at her. But something in that voice makes her think of blue eyes. The kind of blue eyes that sparkle in the sunlight. A bit of green flecked around the edges. Clarisse remembers staring into those eyes and laughing, a familiar warmth overtaking her body. 

“CLARISSE!” 

Clarisse blinks. It’s torturous. In that moment when her eyes are closed, she remembers who she is and what she’s doing. She is Clarisse La Rue. Drakon Slayer. Daughter of Ares. Lady of Bloodshed. 

She opens her eyes and flings herself out of the way. The drakon’s open mouth closes around the air where she’d just been. Silena is screaming her name, and Clarisse whips her head around in a panic. Luke is closing in on Silena, his sword held menacingly close to her. Silena’s remaining dagger has been knocked out of her hand. She’s defenseless. 

Silena’s eyes are on Clarisse, not Luke. The fear in them is not for herself but for Clarisse. Silena is trapped and defenseless against Luke, and yet she’s worried for Clarisse. 

“Goodbye, wife,” Luke says and lifts his sword. 

Clarisse respected Luke, once. He’s a brilliant swordsman with impressive experience in battle. He’s strong, angry, and smart. She respected his bravery and his wit. Now, though, she sees him for what he truly is. A coward. A man so twisted and cruel that he can’t see he is the reason for so much pain. 

As he prepares to kill his wife, the world starts to move in slow motion. The drakon snaps its teeth at Clarisse. Luke’s stygian iron sword starts its descent toward Silena’s heart. Clarisse’s stomach drops. 

With a roar of fury, Clarisse charges at Luke. She ignores the drakon, which she’s sure annoys the great beast. Clarisse hefts her sword up as she thunders across the clearing in the forest, eyes on Luke’s back. 

At the last second, he turns to face her. He pulls his sword up to block hers, but it’s no use. She slams into him with all of her pent-up rage and hatred. How dare he try to take Silena from her? How dare he try to take Silena away from her people? 

As Clarisse and Luke collide, teeth bared and swords ringing, the world around them shudders. 

+++++

Silena watches with morbid fascination as Clarisse slams into Luke. They should both be on the ground, after the sheer force of their collision. But Luke and Clarisse are strong and stubborn; evenly matched. As their blades meet, sparks fly. 

Their fight is lethal and precise. It’s a dance. Neither speaks; Silena isn’t sure they can, with the sheer amount of focus they both need for this. They move so quickly that she can barely keep up. When one of them moves, the other responds. It’s so perfect and dangerous that it’s terrifying. 

Unfortunately, Silena doesn’t have time to worry about it. The drakon has slithered closer to her, its beady yellow eyes trained on Silena. She remembers what happened last time. And she is determined not to repeat it. 

She retrieves her fallen dagger, which is barely longer than her forearm. She bends her knees, grits her teeth, and faces the drakon.

It smells of rotting flesh and blood. Her skin is melting off. She’s burning, she’s on fire— 

The drakon roars, and Silena’s heart beats faster and faster in her chest. She’s an idiot. She’s weak. She barely survived the last drakon — why did she think she could beat this one? 

Her skin is melting off. She’s burning; she’s on fire. Her city is on fire. She’s a traitor. It’s all her fault. 

The drakon snaps at her, and she barely manages to roll out of its way. Before she can get back on her feet, the serpent’s tail slams into her, flattening her onto her back. The impact sucks all the air out of her lungs, leaving her gasping and heaving on the forest floor. She scoots away, crawling across the ground like a snake herself. 

She can hear the gargled growl of the drakon behind her. It sounds like it’s laughing at her. 

Her skin is melting off. She’s burning. Her city is burning. She’s dead. She’s dying. She’s not going to make it— 

Somewhere in the distance, she hears the clanging of swords. Clarisse is still holding off Luke, but for how long? Her knight is badly wounded, and Luke has had plenty of time to rest on horseback while searching for them. 

Silena looks at the drakon behind her. Its mouth is slowly opening. 

Burning. Melting. Screaming. Dying. 

Silena grits her teeth and shakes her head. She is not going to die today. No, she is not going to die and leave Clarisse behind. Silena has plans. Dreams. Hopes. Desires. She’s going to make her kingdom better. She’s going to help her people. She can’t do that if she’s dead.  Silena manages to push herself to her feet.

She stands before the gaping maw of the drakon, trembling. 

She is not beautiful anymore; a drakon stole that from her. She is not innocent anymore; war stole that from her. She is not naive anymore; Luke made sure of that. Silena thinks of Clarisse’s bravery, anger, and strength. 

Silena is strong, too, she realizes. Not in the same way as her lover. She may never boast the same rippling muscles as Clarisse, nor the prowess in battle. But she understands Clarisse’s anger because Silena is angry, too. Silena is brave, too. Silena has spent her entire life pretending to be the perfect daughter of Aphrodite; pretty, meek, lovely, and soft. But what if that’s not all she is? 

Silena meets the drakon’s gaze, and this time, there is no room for fear in her heart. 

As the monster spews acid at her, Silena leaps into action. She rolls out of the way of the green, steaming poison and charges the drakon. With a powerful leap, she manages to slam her remaining dagger into the drakon’s left eye. It jerks its head back and forth, trying to free itself of the weapon, and Silena hangs on tight as she is thrashed through the air. 

Silena drags the dagger down, down, down, slicing a giant gash through the drakon’s eye and nostril. The weapon falls free, and she with it, until she’s lying on the ground once more. 

The drakon shrieks as golden blood spills from its eye. It twists and jerks, but the wound is too severe. Silena grimaces as the drakon’s massive head slams into the ground — and never moves again. 

She barely processes the monster’s death. Instead, she turns and looks for Clarisse and Luke. They’re still battling each other, their swords sparking every time they meet. 

Clarisse’s face is covered in a thin layer of sweat, her mouth set in a frown. Luke is grinning as he gains the upper hand on Clarisse. Each of her movements gets slower and slower as Silena watches. Clarisse stumbles, missing a step, and Luke manages to cut a nasty gash across Clarisse’s arm. 

A strangled cry comes out of Silena’s mouth, and then she’s running toward Clarisse. But she’s so far away— 

Clarisse smirks, her eyes on Luke. There’s some glint in Clarisse’s eyes; something that looks strangely like victory. What is she planning? What is she doing? Silena sprints toward her, knowing she’s still too far away to do anything. 

Clarisse raises her sword arm, creating an opening for Luke to strike. Silena knows very little about sword fighting, but she knows some people feign a move once they’re confident they know their opponent will fall for it. Clarisse leaves her side open to attack, wincing and grimacing in pain and exhaustion. 

Luke doesn’t fall for it.

Instead, he ignores the opening and goes for a different approach. The next thing Silena knows, Clarisse is on the ground. Her sword clatters out of her hand, sliding through the grass until it’s a few feet away. Clarisse crawls toward it, but Luke is on top of her in seconds. He plants one knee on her chest, his sword resting against her throat. 

Time seems to bend and slow as Silena races toward them. She sees the leering smile Luke gives Clarisse as he uses two hands to raise his sword over her. She sees Clarisse’s responding smirk. 

And she sees Clarisse’s fingers close around one of the broken dagger shards lying abandoned in the grass. When Luke had broken the dagger Silena had been using… she’d thought it useless and dropped it in the grass…

As Luke brings his sword down on her throat, Clarisse jabs the broken blade into his side. Luke shouts in surprise and pain. Clarisse uses the distraction to buck him off of her. His sword falls out of his hand as he lies in the grass, gasping at the dagger now impaled in his side. 

Silena finally reaches Clarisse and kneels beside her in the grass, hands immediately going to her face. Clarisse smiles at her, exhaustion clear in those dark eyes. She’s alive, though. She’s alive. 

“You…” Luke gasps. He glares at them, but with that dagger in his side, there’s no way he’s getting up. “You…” 

“I warned you,” Silena growls. “I told you I’d kill you before I let you take my kingdom.” 

Luke’s lips turn upward into a sarcastic smile. “There won’t… be a kingdom… left for you… to rule.” 

Fear burns hot and bright in Silena’s chest. So that’s why Luke was so smug today. He must have asked one last thing of Kronos before beginning his hunt for Silena and Clarisse. If Luke didn’t return, if Luke didn’t get to rule Olympia, he must have asked that Kronos destroy it all. 

“You fucking coward,” Clarisse growls, apparently arriving at the same conclusion. 

Luke chokes out a laugh, blood spilling from his mouth. Silena grits her teeth and crouches next to him, looking him in the eyes. She can’t believe she ever trusted this man. She married this man (does it really count, though?). 

“You don’t want that,” Silena says. “I know you don’t. You did all of this to make a better world. Something better than our parents. And now you’re telling me you’re okay with Kronos destroying everything?” 

“He’ll destroy it… and someone else can… start over,” Luke mutters. 

“You’d doom your family to death at Kronos’ hand out of spite?” 

“I have no family,” he spits the words out. 

Silena pushes her face close to his, allowing all of her hatred to seep into the words. “Yes, you do. Not your dad — not Hermes. No, Luke, I’m talking about Annabeth. She’s your family.” 

Luke’s eyes widen ever so slightly. That anger drains out of him, then, and is replaced by a profound sadness. He frowns and opens his mouth, as if to answer, then shuts it again. His lower lip trembles. 

“He’s… he’s not as strong… as he seems,” Luke wheezes.

“Kronos?” 

Luke nods, the movement making him wince in pain. There is no sympathy left inside of Silena, but she imagines if there were, she would feel somewhat bad for Luke. He allowed hatred and rage to consume him. He was so hurt by his father, by his queen, but he only came up with one solution for it: annihilation.  

Clarisse lays a hand on Silena’s shoulder, squeezing once to warn her of incoming danger. Silena leans close to Luke’s mouth, listening intently as he utters his last words. 

And then Luke Castellan, the only son of Lord Hermes, dies. 

Silena sheds no tears for her almost-husband and former friend. She closes his eyes, folds his hands over his chest, and rises to her feet.  

“There’s one last thing I need to do here,” she quietly tells Clarisse. Silena crosses the clearing and stands before the hulking carcass of the drakon. 

+++++ (Annabeth’s POV) +++++

Annabeth doesn’t know how she knows Luke Castellan is dead, but she knows. 

One moment, she’s delivering orders to the front line on a blood-stained battlefield. The next, she’s overcome with a terrible, aching sadness. Somehow she just knows.  

Soldiers rush around her, running to their stations, but they’re just a blur. Annabeth clutches her stomach, nausea welling up inside her, and blinks at the horizon. 

Luke was like her brother. He was family. She should hate him, now, after everything he’s done. She doesn’t, though. She feels sorry for him. She feels guilty for not seeing the signs.

“Annabeth?” 

Percy stands before her, his tan face speckled with blood and mud. His hands are instantly on either side of her face, a worried look in his sea-green eyes. 

“I’m fine,” she says, but her voice comes out barely above a whisper. “I think… Luke is dead.” 

Percy’s eyebrows draw close together, his confusion clear on his face. He shakes his head, “He wasn’t on the battlefield, Annabeth. He must still be in the fort with Kronos. He can’t be—” 

Before Percy can finish his sentence, a shout rises in the air. For a moment, Annabeth is sure they’re under attack again. The past two days, Kronos’ armies have drawn back early in the morning to burn the bodies of their fallen soldiers — just like Olympia’s armies. But Annabeth wouldn’t put it past the King of Tartarus to attack them now, just when the fighting has ended. 

But the shouting doesn’t sound panicked or pained. Annabeth turns her head to the source of it. She and Percy push through the throng of people, everyone coated in mud and gore. Annabeth is, too. She spent the entire day fighting at Percy’s back; her silver armor is now coated in a thick layer of grime. 

She pays it no mind, though, as she comes to a stop next to Piper and Reyna. Both women are frozen, their eyes trained on the edge of the forest. 

Oh gods, did Kronos send another hydra into the forest to flank them? That was a particularly nasty trick the King of Tartarus played on them yesterday. It had taken Annabeth, Percy, Reyna, and a dozen soldiers to kill the beast. Annabeth is still healing from a bite. 

The sky above them is dark, though a multitude of stars shine brightly in the night. All around their camp, soldiers have lit lanterns and fires to ward off the darkness. None of them will admit to being scared of the dark, but… after what they’ve all seen in the last few days, Annabeth has to sleep with a light on, too. 

Annabeth follows Piper’s line of sight, searching for whatever has stirred up the camp. If it’s another monster— 

Annabeth inhales sharply when she sees Silena Beauregard and Clarisse La Rue walking towards the war camp. The two women are bloody and beaten, their faces specked with blood and their clothes slashed to pieces. 

They walk into the camp silently. No one cheers as the princess approaches; no one says a thing. 

Because there is something decidedly different about Silena, now. Her fingers are tightly gripping a stygian iron dagger. A dark, scraggly cape is wrapped around her shoulders — a similar one around Clarisse’s. Her skin is dirty and bruised. No, wait. Her skin is burned. It reaches up her neck and jaw, muddling the once-perfect skin that had been there. Her jet-black hair is no longer silky and curly; now it hangs in a tangled shag atop her head. Her blue eyes don’t sparkle with joy; a deep anger and exhaustion wait in them. 

Her appearance isn’t the only thing that’s changed, though. As she walks into camp, she assesses her surroundings with a predatory gaze. Clarisse stands next to her, shoulder to shoulder, and looks at no one and nothing other than the princess. 

Annabeth has suspected for some time that things might not be entirely platonic between the princess and knight, but now… now, it’s clear to all who look at them. The way their bodies seem to be like magnets. Clarisse’s dark eyes are full of love and adoration, and she’s doing nothing to conceal it. 

“Where have they been?” someone whispers as Clarisse and Silena walk through the camp. 

“Why is she covered in blood?” 

“Drakon-slayers,” someone whispers. “Look at the scales.” 

Annabeth squints and looks closer at the cape around Silena’s shoulders. She gasps; it’s not a cape. It’s a piece of a drakon; the scales of a drakon. Silena and Clarisse stride into camp with drakon scales glinting on their backs and Luke’s blood on their hands. 

The two come to a stop in front of Annabeth, whose mouth has been hanging open for a few minutes. Annabeth promptly shuts it. Before she can wrap Silena in a hug, Piper lunges for her sister. 

Piper slams into Silena, wrapping her arms around the bloody princess. Silena chokes back a sob and hugs her sister tightly, burying her face in Piper’s shoulder. Before Annabeth can say anything, can welcome them home, can steer them toward the healer’s tent, a few male voices rise above the murmurs of the crowd. 

The next thing she knows, three young adult males are hurtling toward Clarisse. The knight braces herself for impact as Sherman, Frank, and Will Solace slam into her, all three of them wrapping their arms around the daughter of Ares. Clarisse laughs heartily and hugs them back. 

Annabeth is fairly confident she sees a few tears slip down Clarisse’s face, though she’d never mention it aloud. Annabeth finally finds her words and says, “I’m glad you’re both alive. Come, let’s get you somewhere safe.” 

+++++

An hour later, Clarisse and Silena are cleaned up and seated at a table with the queens and their courts. Well, the surviving members of each court. 

Annabeth sits next to her mother and wrings her hands as Silena recounts her story. She tells them of Luke’s confession in Cyprus, of the drakon attack and her injuries, and of Kronos’ fort. She hesitates when she talks about their escape. The fear passes in seconds, though, and Silena’s gaze hardens as she talks about killing Luke and the drakon in the woods today. 

Annabeth lowers her gaze, embarrassed by the pain in her chest. She should hate Luke for everything he did. She doesn’t, though. When she thinks of him, all she can think of is the little boy she grew up with. The boy she loved like a brother. 

To Annabeth’s eternal surprise, it’s Athena who reaches over and squeezes her hand. The queen’s gaze is still fixed resolutely on Silena, who is talking, but Athena gently squeezes Annabeth’s hand. 

“With his dying breath, Luke told me that Kronos isn’t as powerful as he seems,” Silena says. She hides an exhausted yawn behind her hand, then continues. “Most of his human soldiers are from Pylos and Cyprus. Kronos has no loyal soldiers from Tartarus, only monsters. If we can convince the human soldiers to turn on him, he might just surrender.” 

“Why would citizens of Olympia join Kronos?” Aphrodite asks, her eyebrows knit together in concern. The queen of beauty and love has adapted to life on a battlefield surprisingly well, Annabeth thinks. She’s given up the luxury of gowns and jewelry and now walks around camp and into war meetings dressed in pants and light armor. She and Athena will never be anywhere near the fighting, of course, but Annabeth thinks it’s rather admirable of them both to try. 

“Because of what you’ve allowed our kingdom to become,” Silena says, bold and unafraid. A horrible silence overtakes the tent. Not even Dionysus manages a joke.

Aphrodite’s jaw clenches, but she must be trying to give her daughter the benefit of the doubt, considering Silena just escaped from Kronos’ clutches and killed the king’s second-hand man. 

“Darling, I don’t think—” Aphrodite starts. 

“Listen to me,” Silena interrupts, her dark blue eyes flitting from one person to the next. “Our kingdoms have been at war for decades over stupid things. Thousands have died, which is bad enough. But our economies have suffered, too. When trade routes weren’t open between our kingdoms, families suffered. Crime has always run rampant in Cyprus because people have had to resort to violence to provide for themselves.” 

Annabeth watches as Princess Silena glares at the two queens — who both, surprisingly, look ashamed of themselves.

“Luke was a victim, but not only of Kronos,” Silena says. “He was angry that his home was destroyed, that his father didn’t love him, and that his queen wouldn’t listen to him. In the beginning, Luke just wanted to build a better world. Kronos used his anger to mold him into a puppet that he could exploit. But it is not only Kronos who failed Luke. It was us, too.” 

Annabeth swallows heavily. This is exactly what she and Silena have been working towards for so long, but now that it’s time to discuss it out in the open, Annabeth finds a lump in her throat.

“What would you have us do about it now?” Athena asks, her voice icy. 

“Nothing right now, I suppose,” Silena answers. “When this is over, though, there will be changes. Right now, I think we should discuss a plan to infiltrate Kronos’ ranks. If we can sew some discord among his troops, we will be stronger for it.” 

With that, Silena places her hands on the table and pushes herself out of her seat. She winces as she moves. Annabeth has the sudden urge to reach out and grab her, to steady her, but Clarisse beats her to it. 

The knight has been standing next to Silena’s chair this entire meeting, her eyes never leaving Silena’s face. Now, she reaches out and steadies the princess, offering her arm as support. Silena thanks her quietly, eyes fluttering with exhaustion. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I plan on sleeping a few hours before tomorrow’s bloodbath,” Silena murmurs. 

“You will not be anywhere near that, I can assure you,” Aphrodite says. “Sleep well, my daughter.” 

Silena stiffens and faces her mother. “The blacksmith is crafting my armor as we speak. I will die next to my people on the battlefield, Mother, or I will survive another day. There is no choice.” 

“Silena—” 

“You will not change my mind,” Silena interrupts yet again. How different she is from the girl Annabeth met a few months ago. “Now… goodnight.” 

Clarisse and Silena head for the door of the tent, their steps slow and pained. With one hand holding the tent flap open, Silena turns and says, “Also, I would like for Luke’s name to be scratched from the history records. He never finished his vows. He was never my husband.” 

As they exit the tent, Annabeth is pretty sure she sees a smirk on Clarisse’s lips. 

Notes:

drakon slaying girlfriends

also: you guys have the BEST stories about reading my fics in public (in school/class, on the bus, etc). I absolutely think we should all share our wildest reading-fanfiction-in-public stories in the comments…

Chapter 24: chapter twenty-four

Summary:

chapter summary: kissing and war <3

When I watch the world burn
All I think about is you

"Doom Days" by Bastille

+++++

When Silena opens her eyes the following morning, she’s greeted with the sight of Clarisse snoring next to her. Silena stretches, but the movement only tears a pained groan out of her lips. Her entire body hurts. She can’t remember the last time she slept in a bed, either. This one is small and uncomfortable, but it was much better than a wagon or a prison cell, so she won’t complain. 

Mercifully, she didn’t dream last night. She didn’t have any nightmares. She’s pretty sure her brain was too exhausted to come up with anything to scare her with. 

“I wish we could sleep forever,” Clarisse mutters. 

Clarisse’s freshly washed curls are tied up in a knot on her head, though some of them seem to have escaped the knot overnight. Silena pulls the furs and covers up and over them, hiding them away from the cool morning air. Clarisse hums happily, her eyes still closed. 

Silena presses a kiss to Clarisse’s forehead and breathes in the smell of her. They’d both been able to bathe last night, which was fantastic since they smelled like horse shit, mildew, and sweat. Now, Clarisse smells like lemon soap. 

Beyond the tent, Silena can hear the general noise and hubbub of an army waking up. Pots and pans clatter. People walk by, voices lowered as they prepare for the day. Armor clanks. Generals yell at their soldiers. It can’t be much later than dawn, but that’s late enough. Kronos won’t wait. 

“We should get up,” Clarisse says, her eyes still closed and face buried in a pillow. “There’s a war on.” 

“You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to,” Silena whispers to Clarisse. “You don’t owe me blood. You don’t have to go to war just for me.” 

Clarisse cracks open one eye, a smile playing across her lips. “I would tear the heavens right out of the skies if you asked me to, you know.” 

“Mighty arrogant of you to think you could,” Silena says with a smirk. 

“I’d do anything for you,” Clarisse says, raising her arms above her head to stretch. She grimaces when her new stitches pull. “But fighting today is not only for you, I promise. When I march onto that battlefield today, it will be for our home. Our people. Our friends and our families.” 

Silena kisses her again, and this time she lets it linger. Today could very well be her last day on this earth, and the thought isn’t as scary as it once was. If she dies in battle, she’ll go out knowing she was fighting for her people. 

“I love you,” Silena whispers against Clarisse’s lips. “I need you to know how much I love you, Clarisse.” 

Clarisse shivers, but Silena knows it’s not from the cold. They’re buried under mountains of furs and blankets. Clarisse leans into her touch, a sharp exhale slipping from her lips. 

“I love you,” Clarisse says, pressing a kiss to Silena’s exposed shoulder. Clarisse kisses up her neck, kisses those ugly scars, until she’s peppering Silena’s face with tender kisses. 

Silena laughs, unable to contain her joy when she’s with Clarisse. She pulls the other woman’s face closer to her own, planting a big kiss right on her lips. It’s soft and sweet, with the mildest hint of desperation to it. 

When Clarisse deepens the kiss with a slight flick of her tongue, a wave of arousal slams through Silena. Clarisse’s hand trails up Silena’s side, like the ghost of a touch. Goosebumps rise in her wake. Silena arches into Clarisse, pressing their bodies closer, as Clarisse kisses her hungrily. 

Clarisse’s hand finds its way to the small of Silena’s back. She rests her hand there, rubbing tantalizing circles. The touch makes Silena needy. She pushes her body closer, closer, closer to Clarisse, needing more friction and contact. 

She’d just pulled the covers on top of them, but now she’s too hot. She throws them off of her, moving her body so that she’s straddling Clarisse’s hips. All the while, Clarisse kisses her like it’s the only thing she’s ever desired. 

When Silena breaks their kiss, Clarisse makes a small noise of protest. Silena gazes down at her swollen lips and flushed cheeks, those dark eyes full of need and desire, and Silena knows she will never love another. Not like she loves this woman. 

She bends down and presses a kiss to Clarisse’s neck. 

“I love you,” she says. “And you don’t let me show it enough.” 

Clarisse’s breath hitches when Silena presses a kiss to the soft part of skin beneath her ear. 

“My apologies,” Clarisse murmurs, her breathing thick and labored. “Feel free to show me how much you like me whenever you want.” 

“Love. How much I love you,” Silena corrects. Clarisse beams beneath her, that flush on her cheeks getting even darker. “Because gods, I do. You’ve really got to stop being so responsible and noble all the time, my love. It takes time away from this. ” 

Clarisse makes this lovely little breathy sound when Silena kisses her neck. It nearly undoes Silena completely. 

“From here on out consider me irresponsible and devious,” Clarisse says, arching her back, desperate for Silena’s touch. 

“How thoughtful of you,” Silena hums. 

“You know me,” Clarisse says weakly, her chest rising and falling rapidly as Silena presses wet kisses down her neck. “Always so thoughtful.”

Silena suddenly stops her trail of kisses and sits up, her hands braced against Clarisse’s toned stomach. Clarisse whines, opening those dark eyes questioningly.

“I want to look at you,” Silena explains, brushing the pad of her thumb across Clarisse’s stomach. 

“Kiss me,” Clarisse says. 

“So demanding in the morning, aren’t you?” 

“Don’t be cruel,” Clarisse says, bucking her hips up against Silena. “It’s too early for your teasing. Won’t you kiss me?” 

Silena chuckles and immediately bends down, tangling their legs together and pulling Clarisse into a long, lingering kiss. Just as Silena is about to deepen it, about to finally get her hands under the band of Clarisse’s pants, she hears clanking armor and the telltale signs of a looming interruption. 

Clarisse laughs when Silena groans and swears. She slides off of Clarisse, effectively getting out of bed, and runs a hand through her hair. Clarisse exhales, too, and then swings her own legs out of bed. 

As the clanking of armor gets closer, and their window of alone time evaporates, Clarisse presses one last kiss to Silena’s exposed shoulder. 

“We’re going to make it through the day,” Clarisse says with confidence. “We’re going to kill Kronos. And then we’re going to go home and finish what we started.” 

Silena smiles, allowing the hope and determination to creep into her heart. She turns to face Clarisse, basking in the warmth of the other woman’s company even as the cool autumn air nips at her. 

“And what will we do when we get home?” Silena asks, just because she wants to make Clarisse blush. But the knight’s flustered demeanor has passed. Instead, Clarisse grins and leans in close to whisper in Silena’s ear. 

“I’m going to kneel in front of you while you sit on your throne, and I’m going to make you moan my name.” 

Desire pools in Silena’s body at those words, at the thought of Clarisse kneeling before her— 

“You might want to get dressed before the royal blacksmith barges in here and sees the princess of Cyprus in her underwear,” Clarisse says teasingly. 

+++++

When the first attack comes, Clarisse and Silena wade into the middle of it side by side. In their matching armor, frowns upon their faces, Clarisse is positive they look terrifying. 

Yesterday, before making their way to camp, Clarisse and Silena had spent some time cutting up the drakon’s carcass. They’d each taken a leathery strip of drakon scales and worn it around their shoulders like capes. Last night, before bed, Silena had taken the spoils of war to the blacksmith and asked for armor to be made from it. 

Clarisse had no idea it would look like this. The drakon-scale armor is tinted green because of the color of the scales. It’s sleek and strong, fitted tightly to her body. It’s a full set of armor, offering Silena and Clarisse protection from their necks to their ankles. 

Clarisse hefts her spear as she watches Kronos’ army descend upon their camp. 

Harpies and furies dip and dive through the air, shrieking. Hellhounds race through the camp, nipping at the heels of soldiers. A hydra leads the charge, all nine heads snapping and snarling. There are other monsters, too. Some look like dogs with the bodies of seals. Others look like women with snake heads. All of the monsters with vaguely humanoid figures are outfitted with armor and weapons, along with talons and razor-sharp teeth. 

As the hundreds of monsters stampede into camp, Kronos sits on his skeletal horse atop the hill. He doesn’t charge into battle. Clarisse is pretty sure he’ll sit up there on his horse and wait for everyone to die first. 

Clarisse bends her knees, prepares herself for the haze and rage of battle, and unleashes herself. 

It’s been a long time since she fought like this. As she and Silena wade into battle and wet their weapons with the blood of their enemies, Clarisse slips into the deadly calm of a warrior. She hacks away at any monster within her reach. None survive her. 

As she fights, she thinks only of her fallen friends. She thinks of Lee, Beckendorf, and her friends she lost to war. She thinks of her brothers, who have finally made it to the battlefield with her. She tries not to dwell on that fear. 

She thinks of Rachel, Will, Piper, and her other friends from Pylos — Reyna, Percy, and Annabeth. Every time her spear finds a home in the skull of a monster, Clarisse knows she’s doing it for them. For her friends; her family. 

The world bends to her rage. She charges into battle wielding bloody weapons. Silena stays right by her side, shoving monsters away with her sword and dagger. Somewhere to Clarisse’s right, Percy and Annabeth are fighting just as viciously. 

Clarisse kicks a gorgon in the chest, sending the snake-like woman sprawling. She roars as she slams her sword into the face of a rogue cyclops. Blood splatters on her armor. 

Between Percy and Clarisse, the monsters have a hard time getting very far into camp. The prince of Pylos stands next to Clarisse, his face murderous as he watches a fresh wave of monsters approach. 

“Glad we’re on the same side this time, Jackson,” Clarisse tells him. 

He offers her a wide grin, “Me too, La Rue. Let’s make them pay.” 

Clarisse heart soars in her chest; the ache of battle is a song in her heart. She loses herself to the rhythm as she throws herself into the chaos. 

A line of Laistrygonians marches forward, carrying massive shields and clubs that look suspiciously like tree trunks. One of the giants bellows at Reyna, who only smirks as she sizes up her opponent. Clarisse is too far away to help — but she’s pretty sure the daughter of Bellona doesn’t need any. As Clarisse watches, Reyna slams her fist into the giant’s nose and then follows through with a spear to the eye. Beautiful work, really. 

A startled yelp pulls Clarisse’s attention. Silena is no longer by her side, but instead, is a few yards away and fighting off an enemy soldier. The two women are both dressed in dark armor, so for a moment, Clarisse isn’t sure who is who. But then she finds the telltale green gleam of drakon armor and watches as Silena disarms her enemy. She hesitates for only a second before killing Kronos’ foot soldier. 

In seconds, Silena is back at Clarisse’s side. They share a look, a fleeting exchange, and then they’re back to fighting. 

For some reason, Clarisse is more careful now. She takes her time assessing an opponent before engaging. She doesn’t make reckless mistakes. She still fights like a wild demon, but… but there is a caution within her, now. She knows why. It’s hope. 

She wants to walk away from this war. That’s such a new concept to her… wanting to survive the fight. She used to march into war without a care in the world. If she survived, great. If she died, at least it was with a sword in hand. Now, though, she’s found something that makes her want to live. 

Clarisse bellows as she slams her shoulder into a grounded harpy. It shrieks and tries to claw at her face. Unfortunately, it gets a good hit in before Clarisse puts it down. Clarisse growls and wipes at her face, trying to keep the blood from her eyes. The harpy must have cut her eyebrow or forehead; blood clouds her vision. 

Something slams into her back, knocking her forward. She ends up on her stomach in the mud, boots and bodies thudding around her. She twists and turns, trying to get up, but the weight on her back is heavy. 

When she finally manages to kick the thing off of her, she rolls onto her back to find a massive hellhound snarling at her. She kicks it in the snout, but that only holds it off for a second. She scrambles through the mud looking for her spear, but the hellhound reaches her first. It bites down on her shoulder and shakes its head, thrashing her through the mud.

Luckily, the drakon-scale armor keeps her from feeling the sharp teeth. Unluckily, the hellhound has a tight grip on her. She tries to wriggle free, but the ugly dog hangs on tight. 

Right as Clarisse’s free hand wraps around her spear, the hellhound drops her, a knife protruding from its forehead. It slumps on top of her, dead. 

It takes some work to push the great beast off of her, but when she finally does, she gets to her feet and finds Silena running toward her. Silena retrieves her knife from the hellhound’s head and looks at Clarisse with wide, panicked eyes. 

They don’t have time to talk, though. This is war. Clarisse just nods, letting Silena know she’s okay despite the blood sliding down her face. She uses the back of her hand to wipe it out of her eyes, and then sets her sights on another approaching monster. 

It feels endless. They fight for what could be hours or days or weeks. The sun rises higher and higher in the sky, until Clarisse is sure they’ve been fighting for well over four hours. And no matter how many monsters she kills, more keep coming. 

Over the course of the battle, Clarisse loses sight of Kronos and the hill. Every once in a while she tries to catch sight of him, only to find that he’s not there anymore. She has no doubt he’s returned to his fort for the day, confident that his monsters will wipe out the rest of them. 

Throughout the battle, Silena and Clarisse never go far from each other. They stray from their other friends, often losing sight of Percy, Reyna, and Annabeth, but they never lose sight of each other. 

“Clarisse!” 

Clarisse slams her spear through the skull of a hellhound and searches for whoever is calling her name. That’s when she sees a group of her friends shoving their way toward her. Percy, Reyna, Annabeth, and Frank. A jolt of fear shoots through her when she sees her brother here. 

The few monsters around Clarisse backtrack and run away. She’s tempted to follow them, to chase them down, but she doesn’t. She takes a deep breath, embracing the chance to rest if only for a moment. Silena stands by her side as they wait for their friends to reach them.  

Frank gets there first, his face flecked with mud. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere. He’s okay. He’s alive. 

“Is Sherman…?” Clarisse asks her brother softly. Frank shakes his head. 

“Dad wouldn’t let him fight,” Frank says. “Sherman was pissed, but…” 

“Good,” Clarisse says, glad at least one of her brothers is safe. “I’m glad you’re alive.” 

She pulls her little brother into a tight hug, not caring that her friends are approaching and watching. Frank hugs her back tightly. Physical affection is rare between them, but… this is war. 

Percy arrives next, his eyes wide and panicked. “Kronos has the queens.” 

“What?!” 

The prince of Pylos nods worriedly. He swallows, his eyes darting to his wife. Annabeth bites her trembling lip, and nods. 

“He must have snuck in while we were all fighting on the front line,” Annabeth says. “Their guards are dead. Ares and Bellona are… not in good shape. I don’t know if they’ll…” 

Annabeth looks sharply at Clarisse, which lets Clarisse know her father is in bad condition. She searches herself for any feelings about it; she finds none. Her father is not her problem right now. 

“Who else was guarding them?” Clarisse asks sharply. “There were at least two dozen guards and Ares and Bellona. You’re telling me Kronos wiped them all out?” 

“Dionysus and Hades were busy fending off an attack on the west side of camp,” Percy explains. “We all thought Ares and Bellona would be protection enough.” 

True. Clarisse has never heard of her father failing. Kronos is either an exceptionally talented warrior, or… or there is some other power at work. 

“Kronos took our parents to the fort,” Annabeth says to Silena. “I think he’s going to execute them tonight. He’ll make a whole show of it.” 

“Who’s in charge now?” Percy asks, sounding confused. When Clarisse gives him a withering look, he says, “I mean… like, who calls the shots now? What do we do?”  

Silena’s pale face takes on a bit of a green tint. To keep her from getting sick, Clarisse asks, “We are, I guess. Dionysus and Hades will agree to whatever plan we give them. Are Kronos’ forces pulling back?” 

Everyone looks out across the battlefield, which is far sparser than it was a few hours ago. As Clarisse predicted, most of Kronos’ soldiers are pulling back and returning to the fort. Similarly, Athena and Aphrodite’s armies are returning to their camp on the far side of the field. 

“What are you planning?” Silena asks, laying a hand on Clarisse’s arm. 

“You’re not going to like it…” Clarisse starts. 

Silena sighs, but says, “Tell me anyway.” 

+++++

When the sun finally sets, they put their plan into action. 

Just like Clarisse predicted, Silena hates the plan. But she agrees to it nonetheless. Clarisse gives her girlfriend a quick kiss goodbye, and then they’re forced to go their separate ways. 

Silena, Annabeth, and Reyna will sneak into the enemy camp tonight while Clarisse and Percy attempt to free the queens. If all goes according to plan, Kronos will wake up without an army or captives. 

Clarisse and Percy stick to the shadowy cliffside of the battlefield as they approach Kronos’ fort. There are regular patrols at the border of the fort; some humans, some monsters. They need to get inside without drawing any attention, so Percy and Clarisse take the patrols out quietly and carefully. 

They barely speak to each other as they go. Both of them are trained and experienced in this sort of thing, so they don’t need to speak. When it comes to war, Percy and Clarisse agree on just about everything — which is shocking to everyone who knows them. 

“Duck,” Percy whispers sharply. Clarisse obeys without arguing; she ducks behind a shrub and waits. Percy throws a javelin with insane precision; it goes through the throat of a gorgon who had been standing guard. 

Together, they drag the body behind the shrubs and hide it as best they can. Then, they sneak into the fort through a back door that was once used only by servants. 

The fort is dark and quiet as they slowly pick their way through it. Clarisse tries to remember the path she took from the dungeons when they escaped, but… the catapults have collapsed so many of the original hallways. It’s an entirely different structure than it was a few days ago. 

“I’m sorry about your father,” Percy whispers. 

“Don’t be,” Clarisse responds. Once upon a time, she’d have killed Percy for even daring to mention Ares. After Percy’s fight with Ares all those years ago, she’d planned on gutting him the first opportunity she got. 

While she might not love Percy Jackson now, she certainly respects him. And she’s honored to fight beside him. 

She glances over her shoulder and meets his eyes, “Ares… he’s… well, he’s a dick.” 

Percy seems to understand what she’s left unsaid. He smiles at her kindly. “Yeah, he is.” 

They continue on in silence, but a comfortable one. When they round the corner, they flatten themselves against the cool stone wall when they hear voices ahead. Clarisse can hear the beating of her own heart; she pushes her lips together to keep from breathing too hard. When the voices pass, Percy and Clarisse continue their silent stroll through the fort. 

When they make it to the stairs of the dungeon, Clarisse holds a hand up to signal Percy. 

“There will likely be two guards down there,” she tells him. “One for you and one for me.” 

Percy grins in response. They take the stairs two at a time, and when they reach the floor of the dungeon, they find it empty. There are no guards and no prisoners, only empty cells and blood-stained floors. 

“Fuck,” Clarisse mutters. “If they aren’t here, they’re in the throne room with him.” 

Clarisse has no great love for Athena or Aphrodite, but a wave of fear slides down her spine as she considers what the two women might be going through at Kronos’ hands. She knows, logically, Kronos will kill them tonight. With the two queens dead, the armies from Pylos and Cyprus will be leaderless and lost. Kronos’ defeat will be quick and mighty. 

But something tells Clarisse that Kronos likes to play with his food before he eats. She has hope that the queens might still be alive — if only so Kronos can watch them suffer a little longer. 

“Can you get us there?” Percy asks. 

“Yeah, but… I mean, are we really going to take on Kronos, monsters, and his guards all at once?” Clarisse asks. “We’re fucked if we try. We need a distraction.” 

“I thought we were the distraction,” Percy says. “We’re supposed to be causing a commotion so that Silena and Annabeth can move through the camp without being noticed.” 

“I know that,” Clarisse seethes, anger sparking in her chest. She rounds on Percy, glaring at the prince. “You’re not the only one who loves someone sneaking into that enemy camp, alright?”

“I—” Percy stops himself, hesitating. “You’re right. Sorry. I just get nervous when it comes to Annabeth, which I’m sure you can understand. I know she can handle herself, and Silena can too, but… I just worry.” 

Clarisse nods, that anger fading just as quickly as it had risen. “I understand.” 

His dark hair looks even darker in the limited light of the prison. He’s dressed in bronze armor, but it’s flecked with blood, just like Clarisse’s. Percy rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck. “Alright. What’s your plan?” 

Clarisse grins. “How familiar are you with Greek fire?” 

“Oh, gods.”

Notes:

we are getting very close to the end, folks! let me know what you think!

Chapter 25: chapter twenty-five

Summary:

the Final Fight

I need my golden crown of sorrow
My bloody sword to swing
My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology
I am no mother, I am no bride, I am king

"King" by Florence + The Machine

+++++

It doesn’t take long for the new plan to go to absolute shit. 

Percy and Clarisse steal a bit of Greek fire from Kronos’ storage room — which is stocked with weapons, food, and armor. Seems stupid to keep such valuable things in an enclosed space with Greek fire. 

The fire is kept inside large glass jars, where the green flames burn eternally. It’s one of the most dangerous substances in the world. Not even water can put out the flames. As Clarisse and Percy carry the jars through the abandoned hallways of the fort, Clarisse holds her breath. 

She is very careful where she steps. She tries not to jostle the jar too much. She would really hate to drop it and die right when she’s so close to completing her mission. Percy, thankfully, is just as cautious with it. 

They end up squatting near the entrance to the throne room, hidden in the shadows of the massive oak doors. When Clarisse peers inside, she sees two dozen armed guards, a few giants, a cyclops, and two hellhounds guarding Kronos’ throne. The king himself sits with one leg crossed over the other, a lazy smile on his face. 

Aphrodite and Athena stand in the center of the room, their hands shackled to a chain embedded in the floor. The two queens look to be unharmed so far. Their dresses are dirty, their hair tousled, but other than that — they don’t seem to be hurt. The wise queen’s dark skin glistens in the low lantern light, her face full of righteous anger as she glares at Kronos. Aphrodite, in comparison, focuses her anger on the audience. 

As Percy and Clarisse watch from the shadows, Kronos raises his hand. The soldiers begin cheering — some of them spitting at the queens. At Kronos' command, a hellhound begins circling the two queens.  

“After all these years of planning, it is pleasing to see the two of you in chains before me,” Kronos says. “You need not hide your tears on account of pride, ladies. By tomorrow, no one will even remember your names.” 

Athena straightens her spine, eyes snapping to Kronos’ face. “You underestimate Olympia.” 

“Do I?” Kronos muses. “The two high queens of Olympia stand before me, with nothing stopping me from killing them. Your oh-so-mighty war generals lay dying on the battlefields. Your princesses fight like men. I assure you, they will die like them, too.” 

Aphrodite clenches her jaw and turns her eyes to the King of Tartarus. “I will admit that you took us by surprise, King Kronos. I will admit my foolishness. My blindness. My pride. But when you kill us here, you know who will inherit our thrones. Those queens will not lose.” 

For a moment, Clarisse glimpses a powerful and fearless Aphrodite. A queen who knows her worth; who believes in and cares about her people. Gone is the flirtatious and giggly woman obsessed with beauty; standing before her is a mighty queen with war in her heart. Clarisse is used to witnessing Ares’ rage, but this… this is something else altogether. And it is infinitely more terrifying than Ares.

This is a queen Clarisse would have been proud to serve. 

“Your daughters are likely already dead,” Kronos says. “If they’re not, they will be tomorrow.” 

Both of the women flinch at his words, at the callousness in them. The two queens share a look, something like regret and grief lining their faces. Though the two women are very different, they share the burden of motherhood. Both of them have daughters — and they both fear for their daughters’ lives. Aphrodite wasn’t a good queen, and she wasn’t a good mother, but… Clarisse feels sorry for her nonetheless. 

Right. Okay. Clarisse has a job to do. She looks over her shoulder at Percy, who has been watching the exchange with anger. She nods to him, silently telling him to get started. 

They have to be careful with the Greek fire. They can’t just lob the jars into the room and hope for the best. The fire would spread too quickly; the queens would be dead in seconds. No, they have to be precise. 

Percy hefts the jar over his shoulder and sneaks down the hall in the opposite direction. Clarisse stays put, as they planned. From her vantage point, she can see both queens, Kronos, and nearly all the guards. 

“...your death?” Kronos is saying something, so Clarisse tunes back into the conversation. “I only wish she was here to see it, Aphrodite. She and I spent some time together earlier this week.” 

Clarisse grimaces, remembering the few days she and Silena spent in this very fort. She never thought she would willingly step foot in it again. 

“And yet,” Aphrodite says, her voice lofty and resolute, “My daughter managed to escape you. I hear you lost a few good soldiers during it all, no?” 

That seems to take Kronos by surprise. He clenches his jaw, a vein sticking out in his forehead. That ugly beard of his shudders ever so slightly while the king grits his teeth. 

“Luke had his uses,” Kronos admits. “But in the end, he was disposable.” 

Athena huffs out an indignant laugh, the first sound she’s made in minutes. She purses her lips and turns to fully face the king, her shackles rattling at each move. 

“He was a good kid,” Athena mutters. “You poisoned his mind, and yet you care not when he dies for your cause?” 

“Luke knew his place,” is all Kronos says in return. 

Athena’s eyes flash with hurt. She knew Luke well, Clarisse remembers. Luke grew up with Annabeth in Queen Athena’s castle. His father, Hermes, is Athena’s most trusted advisor. Clarisse almost feels bad for killing him. Almost. She only has to remember the rage in his eyes when he was looking at Silena, and suddenly she doesn’t regret it. 

Fortunately, before Kronos can say anything else torturous to the queens, an explosion rocks the building. Clarisse grins to herself; Jackson pulled it off. Hopefully, he didn’t blow himself up, too. 

Kronos looks to his guards, and growls, “Go. Kill anyone you find.” 

Half of the guards march out of the room, weapons drawn. Clarisse presses herself into the shadows, careful not to rattle her own jar of Greek fire. She peers back into the throne room, where King Kronos is now rising from his throne. He points at the hellhound, and it tightens its circle around the queens. Aphrodite and Athena stand shoulder to shoulder, watching with nervous eyes as the hellish dog gets closer to them. 

Kronos whispers a few things to his guards, but Clarisse is too far away to hear what he says. 

The King of Tartarus laughs, then draws his stygian iron scythe and points it at the queens. Athena puffs her chest and watches with careful precision as Kronos approaches. 

“Someone was seen sneaking into my soldiers’ camp this evening,” Kronos muses. “Does that sound like a rescue mission to you?” 

Clarisse’s heart nearly stops in her chest. If Silena, Annabeth, and Reyna were seen… 

She clenches her jaw and shakes her head. She has to trust Silena. She has to trust that if they’ve gotten themselves into trouble, they can get themselves out of it, too. She believes in Silena. Silena is the only thing Clarisse believes in anymore. 

“Our people will be too busy arguing over the line of succession to plan a rescue mission,” Athena scoffs. “Your scout must be mistaken.” 

Kronos snorts, “For someone nicknamed the Wise Queen, you ought to know how to lie a bit better, Athena. Fear not, you will see your daughter again soon, I’m sure of it.” 

Clarisse purposefully breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth. She counts her breaths, trying to ease the racing of her heart. She can’t lose it now. She has a job to do. 

Kronos places the curved edge of his scythe under Athena’s chin. To her credit, the queen doesn’t even flinch. She levels her steely grey gaze on Kronos’ face. She looks an awful lot like Annabeth. 

Percy was supposed to come back before they revealed themselves, but… Clarisse scans the empty hallways, straining to hear any sounds of fighting or footsteps. Nothing. Maybe he did blow himself up. 

She looks back at the queens — at the two women capable of holding Cyprus and Pylos together. They’re going to die here, at Kronos’ hands, if Clarisse doesn’t do something. 

Fuck it. 

Clarisse takes a deep breath. Then she stands up and throws her jar of Greek fire at the nearest soldier in the room. 

She has no plan other than fuck shit up. The jar slams into the guard, immediately engulfing him in a fiery green hell. He screams as the fire burns. Some near him try to help but only end up catching themselves on fire, too. Lucky for Clarisse. 

She uses her spear, first. She throws it at a guard, catching him by surprise and in the stomach. He drops to the ground with a grunt. Unfortunately, the advantage of surprise is gone, now. A dozen soldiers turn toward her, weapons pointed. 

Safe behind them, Kronos laughs. “Hello again, guard dog.” 

“Hello, fuckwad,” Clarisse replies cheerily. 

She swings her sword at someone’s face, her dagger at someone’s crotch, and laughs as she does it. She kicks someone in the chest, but receives a rather painful punch to the face from someone else as she does so. 

She stumbles, rights herself, and slashes through the air with her sword. She feels exactly like she did in Luke’s wagon; like a cornered animal. She feels wild. Feral. Some primal part of her knows this will be her last stand. She will buy her friends time. She will take out as many as she can. 

As the guards encircle her and close in around her, Clarisse makes her peace. 

She says a silent prayer over her brothers. She even thinks of her father for a moment. 

She thinks of Silena and the life they could have lived together. She smiles. 

And then she unleashes herself. 

+++++

Silena sprints through the darkness, a familiar burning in her chest. Somewhere in the darkness behind her, Annabeth and Reyna are running, too. 

Their mission didn’t fail, exactly, but it certainly hadn’t gone according to plan. Annabeth had wanted to kidnap a group of enemy soldiers and try to convince them to join Olympia’s side, but Reyna was quick to point out that it would never work. While the three women argued about how to accomplish their task, they were discovered by an enemy scout. 

Silena’s ability to charmspeak came in handy, then. She sweet-talked him. She used all of her knowledge, all of her skills, to reach him. She talked about her hopes and dreams for Cyprus and Pylos. She admitted her wrongs and failures. She poured her heart and soul into her words, and somehow, the enemy stranger turned into an ally.

His name was Chris Rodriguez. Hidden in the dark on the outskirts of Kronos’ encampment, Chris admitted that he’s terrified of his own leader. He’d gotten caught up in the revolution of it all and had failed to imagine a world where Kronos ruled. 

He swore himself to Annabeth and Silena and promised to go spread the word of rebellion. He claimed many soldiers felt the same. He was confident he could turn them to Olympia’s side. 

Only after he left them alone and returned to his post within the camp did Reyna realize the group was being watched. She tried to spear the witness, but they got away. And probably ran straight to Kronos with their information. 

So now… Silena, Reyna, and Annabeth are sprinting through the dark, desperate to escape the clutches of Kronos’ soldiers. 

They’re nearly back at the Olympian encampment when they hear an explosion come from the fort. Silena glances over her shoulder and sees the familiar green tint of Greek fire in one of the upper windows. It shines even brighter in the dark of the night. 

“Greek fire,” Reyna says, breathing hard as she comes to a stop next to Silena. “That’s not good.” 

“Clarisse needs us,” Silena says. She doesn’t know how, but she’s sure of it. More sure than she’s ever been. Clarisse is in trouble, and she needs help. “And Percy,” she adds for Annabeth’s sake. 

“What are we waiting for, then?” 

The new voice startles all three women. Silena turns to see her sister standing there with a sword in hand. I guess we’re closer to camp than I thought, Silena thinks. Piper is dressed in simple armor, her hair tied back, and several weapons hanging from her belt. 

Silena opens her mouth to say what the fuck are you doing out here? It’s dangerous! But then she closes her mouth. She notices the look shared between Reyna and Piper. She recognizes it. 

How could she deny her sister the chance to protect the woman she loves when Silena is literally about to run into a burning building to do the same thing? 

“Let’s go,” Silena says, nodding decisively. Piper smiles gratefully. 

“Wait,” Annabeth says, gazing at the smoke billowing from the fort. “I think we should split up. Reyna and Piper, can you lead an attack? Meet up with Chris and whoever else has abandoned Kronos. See if they’ll fight with us. If not, let them go. Grant them immunity. They’ve been through enough. Focus your attack on the north side of the fort — it’s the weakest.” 

“Our forces are exhausted,” Reyna warns. 

Annabeth nods sympathetically, “If tonight goes well, this will be the end of the war. If not, we’re all going to die anyway. That said, if anyone wants to leave… let them.” 

Silena is tempted to disagree. They can’t afford to lose anyone else. But then she bites her tongue and thinks of Sherman and Frank. She desperately hopes Clarisse’s brothers will stay out of the fight, even though she knows they won’t. Everyone should be offered that same chance to flee. 

“As you wish, princess,” Reyna says, though she still looks uncertain. 

“You can do this,” Silena tells them. She meets the eyes of her friend, saying, “Reyna, you’re the daughter of Bellona. You know how to lead. You can do this.” She looks to her sister, next, and says, “We may have had our disagreements in the past, Piper, but I trust you. Even if you don’t believe it, you’re a leader. Trust your instincts.” 

“What are you two going to do?” Piper asks, tears brimming in her eyes. 

Annabeth and Silena share a look. Then, Annabeth says, “We’re going to distract Kronos.”

And save our lovers, Silena silently adds. 

+++++

Sneaking back into Kronos’ fort is surreal. Only a few days ago, Silena was desperate to escape it. She and Annabeth stay quiet as they creep through the hallways. Silena remembers the route to the throne room, so she stays in the lead. 

A sudden rush of footsteps at the other end of the hall makes her pause. She crouches down, sword in hand, and prepares to swing. The sound gets closer, but it’s still too dark to make out the figure that’s racing toward them. 

Silena stands, pulls her sword back, and swings—

“Wait!” Annabeth hisses. 

Silena stops her sword from connecting with the person’s neck in the nick of time. Percy stands directly in front of her, his green eyes wide. He looks at her, then at her sword, then at Annabeth. Completely ignoring Silena and her pointy weapon, he surges forward to his wife. 

Percy pulls Annabeth close and kisses her… long enough for it to get really awkward for Silena, though she says nothing. When Percy pulls away, Annabeth looks like a fish gasping for air.

Silena snorts, though she still stays silent. Annabeth makes a little sigh, like something in her ribcage has melted. Once the two lovers have reconnected, Silena makes a grand show of sheathing her sword. She looks Percy in the eyes, and asks, “Where is Clarisse?” 

“We got separated,” he answers. “Kronos has Athena and Aphrodite in the throne room. I blew up the armory to get a few of the guards away, but there were still a dozen or so left. I was on my way back to help her when I saw you.” 

Silena doesn’t ask how Percy knew it was them. If he has some sort of freakish ability to see in the dark, so be it. She nods, “Take me to Kronos.” 

Percy doesn’t bother arguing with Silena and Annabeth — he must know it’s a useless venture. Hand in hand with his wife, he leads them through the maze of hallways. As they continue, Annabeth explains the plan to Percy. She tells him about Reyna and Piper, Chris Rodriguez, and the looming attack on Kronos’ fort. 

“If we fail…” Percy murmurs. He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t have to. If they fail tonight, there will be no home to return to. There will be no friends to mourn. They’ll all be dead. 

“We won’t,” Silena says, mostly to convince herself. 

When they reach the throne room, Silena pauses in terror. Clarisse is kneeling in the middle of the room, her face bloody. Her spear is snapped in two, lying in splinters before her. Athena and Aphrodite are present, too, their hands shackled. They are also being forced to kneel. 

Half a dozen dead soldiers litter the floor, but Kronos pays them no mind. The king paces in front of Clarisse, his mouth set in a firm frown. Clarisse doesn’t look at the ruler of Tartarus; her bleary eyes are trained on her ruined weapon. 

It was a gift from her father, Silena remembers. It was the one weapon Clarisse truly loved and treasured. 

“What was that explosion?” Kronos snarls. 

“I don’t know,” Clarisse says. 

“Liar!” Kronos backhands her across the face. Clarisse grunts and spits a bit of blood out onto the ground. Silena’s hands fly up to cover her mouth; to keep any panicked noise from escaping her lips. 

Percy grabs her elbow and yanks her back, out of the light. She didn’t realize she’d been standing so visibly. If Kronos had bothered to turn his head, he would have seen her. 

“I’m going to find another way into the room,” Percy whispers. “There’s a door on the back wall, near the throne. I think it connects to the room I was in earlier — before the armory. If I can sneak up on him, I might be able to take him out.” 

Silena nods numbly, trying not to dwell on the sound of Clarisse’s labored breathing. In the room beyond, Kronos keeps yelling. He’s angry. Silena only hopes that means he’s scared, too. Annabeth and Silena watch Percy slip into the shadows with a mix of hope and dread. Silena can barely hear her own breathing over the rapid pounding of her heart. 

“I only wish you were going to be around to see her kneel before me,” Kronos is saying. Against her better judgment, Silena looks back into the room. “...Silena Beauregard will take her final breath on her knees in front of me, right after swearing her throne to me.” 

“No,” Clarisse says simply. “She won’t.” 

Clarisse’s voice is quiet. Soft. As if she has resigned herself to this fate — a pitiful death on her knees. Alone. 

No one deserves to die alone. 

Silena glances over her shoulder at Annabeth, who is looking from Clarisse to Silena. “Don’t do it, Silena,” Annabeth warns, her voice barely above a whisper. “Wait for Percy.”

“She’ll be dead by then,” Silena sobs. 

Kronos’ wicked smile grows larger on his face. He hefts his scythe into the air. The stygian iron blade glistens menacingly in the low light. Around the room, the remaining soldiers and monsters instinctively take a step back. 

“Wait,” Annabeth hisses, grabbing Silena’s arm. 

Silena once thought Cyprus would always be her first priority. She assumed she would always put her duties first — that no one and nothing would ever come between her and her kingdom. But as she watches Clarisse kneel in front of Kronos of Tartarus, she realizes she was sorely mistaken. 

She would watch the world burn for Clarisse. 

“I’m sorry,” she says to Annabeth. Before the other princess can stop her, Silena steps into the light of the room.

Monsters and soldiers snap their attention to her immediately. Even Kronos looks at her, a look of shock passing over his face. After a moment, he smirks. He looks back down at Clarisse, who has yet to see Silena, and says, “Maybe you will see it.” 

That makes Clarisse move. She jerks her head up and swivels it around, her eyes finally finding Silena’s. Even though this is probably their last moment before death, Clarisse smiles at her. 

Silena draws her sword and points it at Kronos. “To think that I once would have willingly welcomed you into my kingdom…” 

“Silena, don’t!” Clarisse calls. “Run!” 

Silena doesn’t listen. She sets her jaw, bends her knees, and smiles at Kronos. For a moment, the king’s smug smile fades. He steps back instinctively, perhaps shocked by her frankly insane behavior. 

“Run!” Aphrodite screams. “Silena, no!” 

Silena leaps at the King of Tartarus. She plunges her sword right into his stomach — in the gap between his armor. The blade should sink into him. Instead, it bounces off of him. Silena stands before him, gawking. Kronos growls and shoves her back, one hand clutching his stomach and the other tightening on his scythe.

What the fuck? Why did it bounce off of him? 

In that moment, all hell breaks loose. 

An ear-shattering BOOOOOM rocks the fort, sending a few ceiling beams clattering to the floor. Stone rumbles; dust clouds the room. Piper and Reyna did it. They rallied the troops and attacked the fort. 

Percy leaps from behind the throne, sword drawn, and lops the head off of a minotaur. Annabeth rushes into the room with her knife in hand, heading straight for the captured queens. 

Another explosion rattles the fort — and a few of Kronos’ soldiers cry out in surprise. Kronos starts shouting orders at his nearest soldiers, even as he fights to maintain his balance in the shaking room. 

Silena leaps toward Clarisse, slicing through the thick ropes binding her hands. Silena yanks her back right as Kronos swings his scythe, slicing the air right where Clarisse had been kneeling. In seconds, Clarisse is scrambling to her feet, reaching for a discarded weapon from the floor. 

As Annabeth works to free the queens, and Percy holds off the soldiers, Clarisse and Silena turn their focus to Kronos. 

His eyes are wide and frantic as he takes in the chaos. He glowers at Silena, pointing his scythe at her. Clarisse, ever the guard dog, positions herself slightly in front of Silena. 

“Run, Silena,” Clarisse says. 

“No,” Silena responds. She lays her hand on Clarisse’s arm. “I go where you go, remember?” 

Clarisse meets her gaze, that understanding passing between them. Together. Whether they live or die tonight — they do it together, just as they always have. 

Kronos laughs. "So much spirit! I can see why Luke wanted to marry you."

Silena grits her teeth and attacks, Clarisse only seconds behind her. Together, they ram into Kronos, who easily blocks their blades with his massive scythe. Silena slams her blade into his staff, sparks flying. Clarisse aims a blow for his legs, but Kronos easily intercepts the blade. 

Right, then. This isn’t going to be easy — even if it is two against one. 

Silena shuts out the distraction of the crowd and the outside attack, and the world contracts to this singular room and the bearded man standing a few feet in front of her. She drops into a light crouch, just waiting. Her sword is still. She watches Kronos’ every movement; every breath, shift of the eyes, and outside explosion becomes a thing to watch, an indication of where her next attack should be.

Clarisse whirls in a circle, her rage a beautiful thing to behold. She slams into the King of Tartarus with a vicious strength, shoving him back a few steps. In seconds, Silena is right next to her, spotting an opening in Kronos’ defense. 

The two women batter him relentlessly. When one pauses, the other strikes. When one attacks, the other defends them. It’s a silent, dangerous game they play. 

Somewhere behind them, Percy manages to buy Annabeth enough time to free the queens. Once Aphrodite and Athena are out of their shackles, both women take up a weapon. To Silena’s eternal surprise, they fight against Kronos’ monsters. 

“Brick by brick,” Kronos seethes, a dribble of blood escaping his lips. “That was my promise. Tear the kingdoms down. BRICK BY BRICK!” 

He lashes out at Clarisse, forcing the knight to backtrack and pull her sword up to block his blade. Kronos kicks her knee out from under, the bones making a horrifying CRACK. Clarisse screams as she hits the ground, her hands flying to cradle her injured leg.

Silena doesn’t hesitate, this time. She jumps in front of her knight, sword at the ready. Kronos comes at her like a whirlwind.

Silena’s survival instincts take over. She dodges and slashes and rolls; it feels like she’s fighting a dozen men at once rather than just one. She’s vaguely aware of Clarisse hurling insults at Kronos — taunting him and jeering at him as he attacks Silena. The sound of Clarisse’s voice fills Silena with warmth and courage — thoughts of sunlight, dahlias, woodsmoke, and a comforting fire. 

Kronos backs Silena up against his former throne, the back of her legs bumping into the wooden seat. Kronos slashes with his scythe, and Silena barely manages to avoid it before it slams into the throne. Kronos grunts and struggles to free the blade from the wood. Silena takes the opportunity to slam her elbow into his face, then follow through with her sword. She shoves it at his stomach again — her mind instantly going back to the first time she’d tried that maneuver. 

At the last second, she pulls her sword upwards. This time, it doesn’t bounce off. Silena’s blade plunges into Kronos’ chest with a sickening crunch. He stumbles to his knees as black blood begins to spill from the wound. 

Percy bellows as he kills the final monster in the room — a particularly massive gorgon. The remaining soldiers turn tail and run, now that their master is on his knees. Percy doesn’t bother chasing them down. 

Outside the room, the explosions have stopped. The fort has stopped trembling, at least for this moment. Reyna and Piper must have begun a ground assault on the gathered monsters. 

Silena wipes the blood off her face and crouches in front of King Kronos, whose face is rapidly paling. 

“I told you,” Silena whispers. “Remember? I said you’d die before you ever got the chance to rule my kingdom.” 

Kronos tries to rise, his legs shaking beneath him. Silena snorts and turns her back on the dark king, instead crossing the room to kneel beside Clarisse. Her knee is jutting out at an odd angle, and she’s bleeding from a multitude of injuries, but she’s alive. 

Silena cups her face, rubbing her thumb along Clarisse’s scar. “Are you okay?” 

“I feel—” Clarisse cuts herself off, eyes widening on something behind Silena. Silena whirls around to see Kronos charging at her, scythe in hand. 

Before he reaches her he stumbles, eyes widening once more. Silena’s sword is still planted firmly in his chest, but now a second patch of blood blooms on his body. Annabeth’s bronze knife pierces his throat from behind. 

Kronos falls to his knees, splutters, and then he dies. 

Annabeth stands behind him, grey eyes murderous. “Fucking asshole, ” she mutters. 

And maybe it’s the exhaustion, but something about Annabeth’s choice of words makes Silena laugh. And then she can’t stop. She laughs and laughs until tears come to her eyes. She surges forward and wraps Annabeth in a hug, delighted to find that the other blood-covered princess is laughing, too. 

When they pull away from each other, tears are spilling down Annabeth’s face. And Silena’s. They hang onto each other tightly as the look at each other; two sides of the same coin. 

“We did it,” Annabeth whispers. 

The coil of fear, exhaustion, and shame in Silena’s chest starts to finally unwind. “We did it,” she repeats. 

Silena sinks back to her knees by Clarisse, pushing a few dark curls out of the knight’s face. Silena doesn’t care that Clarisse is covered in dirt, blood, and death. She doesn’t care that her mother is a few feet away. She doesn’t care about anything at all. 

She presses her lips to Clarisse’s, tears streaming down her face. Despite her obvious injuries, Clarisse pushes herself up into a sitting position and holds her tightly, kissing her back. 

After perhaps a moment too long, they break apart. Silena cups her face again, staring into the dark eyes of the woman she loves. 

“We did it,” Silena whispers, mulling the words over. Will it ever seem real? 

“We did it,” Clarisse agrees, pride shining on her face. “I love you.”

Silena is halfway to kissing her again when she hears the unmistakable sound of her mother clearing her throat. Silena’s eyes dart to Aphrodite, who is standing on the opposite side of the room with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Excuse me just a moment, will you?” Silena whispers. She kisses Clarisse’s temple and then joins her mother. 

Aphrodite is looking out the window, gazing down at Piper and Reyna’s attack, when Silena reaches her. As they watch, the Olympian forces declare victory over the remnants of Kronos’ army. 

“I have doubted you so many times over the years,” Aphrodite murmurs, turning her head so she can look at Silena. “I have undermined you, humiliated you in court, and ignored your advice for years. And yet you have managed to not only secure peace between Cyprus and Pylos, but you also just killed the King of Tartarus.” 

“I don’t know that I can take credit for all of that,” Silena laughs. “I never would have managed any of this without Annabeth. And… and Clarisse.” 

Aphrodite’s gaze softens. “Perhaps. But do not sell yourself short, my daughter. You will be an excellent queen. This whole thing has made me rethink everything I’ve ever known. The compassion and bravery of ordinary people… I would be dead if not for it.” 

Aphrodite looks at Clarisse, who is still on the ground on the other side of the room. Even though she’s clearly in pain, Clarisse laughs at something Percy is saying. The two warriors share a knowing grin. Clarisse is anything but ordinary, but Silena gets the gist of what her mother is saying. 

Without the compassion of people like Clarisse, Chris Rodriguez, and Reyna, this war would have been the end of Olympia. Queen Aphrodite has long believed that the only important people are those who are beautiful, rich, and royal — she’s said so a number of times. But that’s not correct. 

Kindness and compassion are the most powerful forces — especially in a world as graceless and apathetic as this one. 

“We have to do better moving forward, Mom,” Silena says, voice stern. “Our people deserve better leaders than we have been.” 

“They deserve better than me, you mean,” Aphrodite says, a smirk tugging at her lips. 

“I—” 

“You are not wrong, Silena,” Aphrodite murmurs. “I think it’s time our people had a queen who looks out for their best interests. Someone who is not easily dismayed. A queen who will do anything for her people.” 

Silena nods silently, her eyes snagging on Clarisse. 

“...I think it’s time we named you queen.” 

That certainly draws Silena’s attention away from her girlfriend. She snaps her gaze to her mother, who is looking at her with intensity. 

“What?” 

“You heard me. When we return to Cyprus, I’d like to arrange a crowning ceremony for you. I will publicly relinquish the crown to you.” 

“But… what… where will you go?” 

Aphrodite glances out the window wistfully. “To the countryside, perhaps. Or maybe I’ll finally travel through Pylos. Who knows? I may just stay in Cyprus and annoy you and Piper. We’ll see. But I know it needs to be done, daughter.” 

“It’s never been done before!” Silena says. To receive the crown, the former ruler must be dead. There has never been a record of someone being given the crown by their predecessor. 

“That’s certainly never stopped you from doing anything,” Aphrodite muses, quirking an eyebrow. 

Silena flushes, but doesn’t look away from her mother. “Are you serious?” 

“I am. Do you accept?” 

Silena hesitates. She’s imagined herself as queen so many times. She used to think she’d have to steal the throne from her mother. She was a traitor to her kingdom when she was conspiring with Annabeth. She married Luke, in part, for the armies he would give her in case she needed to take the throne by force. But now… now Aphrodite is offering to give her the throne. 

She could do good for her people. She could start righting the wrongs. She could help people like Eros and Psyche. 

“I accept,” Silena says.

Notes:

kronos dying at the hands of both Annabeth and Silena YUPPPPP

also: the next chapter is the last chapter! how are we feeling??

Chapter 26: chapter twenty-six: the end

Summary:

well folks, we’re finally here! this story has been such a joy to write. Clarisse and Silena mean something very personal to me; I love writing about these two gay idiots. this is also the longest fic I've published, and it feels like a real milestone for me! I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate each and every one of you who have commented, bookmarked, and left kudos. thank you so much! I hope you enjoy the last chapter :)

 

⚠️ALSO: there is an E-rated smut-filled scene in this chapter. If you don’t want to read it, be on the lookout for this: ***. The asterisks show where the scene starts and where it ends.⚠️

TWO YEARS LATER

“Please tell me I don’t have to share quarters with Percy again.” 

Silena glances up from where she’s seated on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace to see Clarisse, fresh from the shower, wearing trousers and a simple white shirt. She’s standing with her hip against the bathroom door as she rakes a hand through her wet curls. When Silena doesn’t immediately reply, Clarisse arches an eyebrow teasingly. 

“Well, I should certainly hope not, my love,” Silena replies, leaning back onto her hands so she can get a better view of Clarisse. “And you didn’t actually have to share with him the last time. The two of you spent one night in the same room. Don’t be dramatic.” 

Clarisse’s face is illuminated by the warm glow of the fire, her dark eyes shining with a familiar thrill. 

“Me? Dramatic?” Clarisse asks, feigning offense. Silena can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and out of her. “Pfft.” 

“Need I remind you that you’re the one who insisted we stay the week? We could have come home and enjoyed our own large, spacious quarters, but no, you just had to spend the rest of the week with your new best friend,” Silena says as she folds up the last few pieces of paperwork she’d been looking over. She tucks the papers into a large book, closes it, and returns her focus to Clarisse. 

Clarisse groans loudly, rubbing a hand down her face. The gesture makes Silena grin. Ever since they won the war against Kronos two years ago, Clarisse and Percy Jackson have been engaged in constant competition. They’d gone from annoyances to friends in a matter of minutes, and it’s been a constant source of entertainment for Silena and Annabeth ever since. 

At first, it had simply been a question of who could make an effort to greet each other first. When Percy and Annabeth attended Silena’s crowning ceremony years ago, Clarisse had been quick to pile on the charm and compliments. Percy, never one to back down from a challenge, had been just as sickeningly sweet. From there, it just sort of evolved into a real friendship. No one understands Clarisse’s war trauma quite like Percy, who experiences it himself. They share a similar anger; sometimes, they spar for hours upon hours to work through their rage. 

When Annabeth was crowned Queen of Pylos, only a few short months after Silena’s crowning, Percy invited Clarisse and Silena to stay for a week in Pylos. Clarisse accepted, much to Silena’s delight. 

“He is not my best friend,” Clarisse says, pouting. 

“Darling, there’s no shame in admitting that you and Percy are friends—”

“Shall I call for some chocolate cake?” Clarisse asks loudly, refusing to let Silena finish her sentence. It only makes Silena’s grin widen. 

“The lengths you’ll go to to avoid the truth,” Silena says fondly, still chuckling. She cuts off Clarisse’s protests with a quick kiss. 

“We need something to celebrate before tomorrow’s feast,” Clarisse says cheekily. “So I’m ordering cake.” 

Silena chuckles, rising from the floor and returning her book to her desk. Tomorrow, Queen Annabeth and King Percy will arrive in Cyprus to celebrate the second anniversary of Kronos’ defeat. It’s become something of a holiday in Olympia. The first year, the celebrations and memorials were held in Pylos. This year, Cyprus is hosting a week of feasts, parties, and memorial services.

Clarisse grins triumphantly and pokes her head into the hallway beyond their shared quarters. Silena officially moved into the Queen’s quarters a few months ago, once Aphrodite moved out to a country estate. So far, Silena’s mother appears to be enjoying the change of scenery. She writes weekly, often discussing the birds and flowers at length. Silena’s pretty sure she’s going to enjoy the trip to the city —  it’ll give her mother a chance to gossip and shop. 

Clarisse kindly asks whichever servant she stopped to deliver a few slices of chocolate cake to the Queen. Silena snorts as she hears Clarisse close the door, muttering a few curses under her breath about damned titles and I’m just a knight. 

“What did they call you this time?” Silena asks from the bathroom, where she’s pulling her dark hair into a ponytail. 

“My lady,” Clarisse answers with disgust. “Do I look like someone who should be called that?” 

Ever since Clarisse and Silena made their relationship official (the day Silena was crowned Queen, thank you very much) the staff has been adamant about treating her with the utmost respect. Clarisse still has her duties, though she’s no longer Silena’s sole protector. No, now Silena has an entire Queensguard full of highly-trained soldiers that stay outside of her room all night. She certainly preferred it when it was just her and Clarisse. 

Silena pokes her head out of the bathroom to see Clarisse standing with her hands on her hips, frowning pointedly. 

“Er…no?”

Clarisse beams, which means Silena answered correctly. Silena laughs and goes to wrap her arms around Clarisse’s waist. 

“If you really hate what they’re calling you, just ask them to stop,” Silena says, interlocking her fingers behind Clarisse. 

“I have,” Clarisse says, looking deadly serious. “Every time, they just ramble on about titles and respect and tradition. It’s ridiculous, really.” 

Silena presses a quick kiss to Clarisse’s lips, “Mmm, I’ll have a word with them about it.” 

Clarisse’s grin changes from one of lighthearted jokes to mischief in mere seconds. She places her broad hands on Silena’s hips, pulling her the slightest bit closer. 

“Thank you, my queen,” Clarisse whispers. Her hot breath against Silena’s face does something truly insane to Silena. She has to blink a few times to keep herself from climbing Clarisse right then and there. 

It’s been two years since Silena was made queen, and the title still takes her by surprise. She’s found the job to be both a challenge and a solace. She spends every day doing what she loves — meeting people, working through solutions, and doing what she can to help. While it’s certainly a taxing job, she’s already seen a change in Cyprus during her reign. She quite likes being queen. 

“Oh!” Silena says suddenly. “I have a gift for you. Stay here.” 

She untangles herself from Clarisse’s arms and pads into their bedroom. In her dresser, she’d hidden it away for weeks, now. It seems a fitting time to finally give it to Clarisse. 

“A gift? What for?” Clarisse calls. 

“Close your eyes!” she calls. 

With a huff, Clarisse obeys. Silena pads back into the room, lugging the gift along with her. She places it in Clarisse’s outstretched hands. Clarisse’s fingers close around it, and when she opens her eyes, her mouth falls open. 

“Silena…this is…I mean, it’s…it’s…” 

“Do you like it?” 

Clarisse’s eyes snap up to her own. “Like it? Darling, I love it. Thank you.” 

Clarisse turns the bronze sword over and over in her hand, marveling at the intricate design etched into the handle. Silena had commissioned the weapon months ago and asked that it be crafted from the finest metals. As a result, she received a perfectly balanced sword with an unbreakable blade. Hephaestus, a smith in Queen Annabeth’s court, created it. At her request, he carved dahlias into the handle of the sword. 

“They’re dahlias,” Silena explains, looking at the flowers affectionately. “I just thought… after everything we’ve been through, those flowers are kind of…” 

“Our thing?” Clarisse asks with a smile. “Yeah, I agree.” 

Silena still remembers the day she showed Clarisse the garden of flowers. From there, they sort of… became a beacon of hope for Silena. She gave one to Clarisse when the knight was locked away in the dungeons, hoping they’d bring her lover some sort of comfort. In return, Clarisse braided the beautiful flowers into Silena’s wedding bouquet, to give her strength during the ceremony. Dahlias have been constantly intertwined through their story. Silena can’t look at the flower without thinking of Clarisse La Rue. 

“It’s beautiful,” Clarisse finally says. She sets the sword down on the desk, turning back to Silena with an unreadable emotion in her eyes. “Silena, I…” 

She shakes her head, unable to come up with the right words. Instead, Clarisse drops her gaze down to Silena’s lips and does the only thing she can to convey her feelings. She kisses her.

Silena melts into Clarisse’s arms, sighing happily against Clarisse’s lips. She lifts a hand to gently cup Clarisse’s face. It’s a long and slow kiss, one full of love and so much gratitude. 

When Clarisse does finally pull away, she says, “I don’t have a gift for you, but…” 

“That’s not why I gave it to you at all, ” Silena says, squeezing her hand. “I just thought… well, it’s been a few years since your spear was broken. Ever since that day, I knew I wanted to get you something just as meaningful and useful. I’ve been working on this design for a while, actually. I think Hephaestus was getting a bit irritated by how many times I asked him to start over.” 

Clarisse laughs, stroking a hand through Silena’s hair affectionately. “I know we’re heading into the busiest week ever, but can I steal you away tomorrow night? Before the feast?” 

“You can steal me away whenever you want,” Silena hums. 

“Thank the gods for that,” Clarisse grins, then leans in for a kiss. 

+++++

Clarisse has simultaneously been excited for and terrified of this moment for months.

She’s been to dozens of feasts since they defeated Kronos, obviously — that’s not the source of her nerves. It’s not even the damned speech she’s going to give tomorrow. 

No, the exhilaration and terror are coming from the engagement ring in her pocket. 

She’s been carrying the damn thing around with her every single day for the past two weeks, ever since she made the ride out to the country to visit Aphrodite. It was a very awkward visit, and one Clarisse is glad she’ll never have to make again. She knows, logically, that she doesn’t need Aphrodite’s permission to marry Silena. Aphrodite isn’t even a queen anymore, for fuck’s sake. But Clarisse wanted to do this whole thing properly. 

Silena has always spoken fondly of her mother’s wedding ring, too. It’s a family heirloom, passed down through the women in Silena’s line. Silena used to steal it from Aphrodite’s quarters when the queen was busy in meetings; she’d pretend she was marrying some rich, attractive royal and flit about the castle flaunting her mother’s ring. 

The stories had always been told with a wistful smile, but with the sadness of one who never expected to receive the ring herself. That’s why Clarisse made the trip. She needed to make sure Aphrodite approved of her enough to bless her with the ring. 

Aphrodite had been rude and stubborn about the whole thing, but surprisingly, not because Clarisse is a woman. In fact, she’d made quite a few remarks about how women are superior lovers and partners (Clarisse doesn’t enjoy thinking of Silena’s mother’s sexual exploits, thanks). No, Aphrodite’s concern was because of Clarisse’s father. Ares. 

When Aphrodite abdicated the throne to Silena, Ares was removed from his position as war general. He never threatened Silena or resisted her rule, surprisingly. He accepted his removal with grace. To Clarisse’s knowledge, he’s currently living in the country estate with Sherman and Frank. Though, the boys practically live in the castle, now, considering the sheer amount of time they spend visiting Clarisse. 

“I loved your father for a long time, Clarisse,” Aphrodite had said. 

“Gross,” Clarisse replied, crinkling her nose. 

“He loved war and violence more than anything. More than your mother, more than you, and more than me. He could never give it up, not even for love or family or happiness. I know you’re not your father, but… you’re similar.” 

“I’m not him.” 

“Can you give my daughter the love she deserves?” 

“Your daughter deserves far better than me,” Clarisse had said. “I can never give her what she deserves — because she deserves the entire world. But, I can promise you that I will love her forever. I will spend every day of my life loving her, helping her, supporting her, and protecting her. Nothing will ever change the love I have for her, and nothing will ever surpass it. Not war, not violence, not another person. She’s it, for me. She is everything.” 

“Then… you have my blessing, Daughter of Ares.” 

Clarisse swallows heavily and turns the ring over and over in her pocket. Tonight, she’s asking Silena to marry her. 

She’s wanted to marry Silena for years, now. She doesn’t remember the exact moment she realized she wanted to get married. For a long time, Clarisse thought she would die alone. She figured she’d dabble in love here and there, but she never thought she would find a person she couldn’t live without. She didn’t consider herself marriage material. 

Then she met Silena Beauregard, and suddenly Clarisse was having dreams of a life together. 

Her hand shakes as she smooths down her shirt. She rakes a hand through her curls, attempting to tame them — to no avail. 

She’s pretty sure Silena is going to say yes. She knows Silena loves her. But there’s also the whole Silena-is-the-queen-of-a-massive-kingdom thing. She’s expected to produce heirs, marry a rich royal, and follow the familial traditions. The two of them dating had been a whole ordeal, at first. She won’t blame Silena at all if she says no. 

There’s also this insane fluttering in Clarisse’s stomach that won’t go away. It feels like pre-battle jitters. Nerves, perhaps. She’s never proposed to anyone before. Obviously. What if she fucks it up so badly that Silena doesn’t even like her anymore?

Maybe she shouldn’t propose tonight.

Anxious thoughts cloud her mind so she forces herself to take deep breaths. Before she can decide on whether or not she should propose to the love of her life, slender arms wrap around her from behind.

Clarisse nearly jumps out of her skin at the contact, causing Silena to chuckle in her ear. 

“My my, Lady of Bloodshed! Bit jumpy tonight, are you?” She presses a kiss to Clarisse’s jaw before coming to stand before her. 

“Mhmm,” Clarisse agrees, suddenly too nervous for actual words. 

Silena stands before her in the most beautiful blue satin dress. It’s simple, not frilly and fluffy like Aphrodite’s were. Despite the lack of exuberance, the dress is still gorgeous. It fits Silena’ perfectly, hugging her hips and showing off her feminine curves. The plunging neckline is so distracting that Clarisse has to physically force herself to look away. 

Silena, thankfully, doesn’t seem to pick up on Clarisse’s nerves. She takes Clarisse’s hands in her own and tugs her over to the balcony. Down below them, the gardens sprawl out in the night. Lightning bugs flicker in the darkness like little stars. 

“It’s such a beautiful night,” Silena murmurs, tucking herself into Clarisse’s side. “I’m glad you wanted to get a moment alone before the feast. It’s nice to be here with you, just enjoying this.” 

Clarisse exhales slowly, settling her nerves. She schools her features into something normal; or, well, she tries to. Gods. She’s been to war before! Why is this so nerve-wracking? 

She twists around just enough to give Silena a proper kiss. It’s slow and unhurried, and the taste of strawberry wine lingers on Silena’s lips. 

“I love you,” Clarisse whispers against her lips. Silena’s perfect lips curve into a dazzling smile. “And I, well, I sort of wanted to ask you… um, I wanted to…” 

Silena’s smile turns into a look of bewilderment. She raises an eyebrow, her smile still pulling at her lips, “Darling, is this about the speech tomorrow? I’ve never seen you so nervous. If you don’t want to give it, you don’t have—” 

“No!” Clarisse interrupts, her voice an octave too high. “No, sorry. I’ve given speeches before. I’ve inspired men to go to war, before. It’s… it’s not about the speech.” 

She clenches her eyes shut and forces herself to breathe normally. When she looks at Silena again, the other woman is just smiling at her fondly. No judgment waits in her eyes; only adoration. 

“I want to do this the right way,” Clarisse says. As she looks into Silena’s blue eyes, all those nerves seem to fade into the background. This is Silena. Her Silena. She’s nothing to be scared of. 

Clarisse smiles and reaches into her pocket. She takes Silena’s hands and then kneels before her, which draws a sharp gasp from Silena’s mouth. Clarisse doesn’t hesitate. She looks up at Silena’s shocked face, and says,

“I’ve loved you for years, now. I think I may have loved you the moment I met you, though I didn’t know it. You slowly breathed life back into me when I thought I would never know joy again. You made me laugh. You changed the way I thought about things. You looked at a war-torn warrior and saw someone worthy of love. You saw the blood on my hands and loved me anyway. You are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met and had the pleasure to know, and it’s been the greatest honor of my life to love you,” Clarisse says, blinking the tears out of her eyes. “We made it through hell together. I told you a long time ago — I go where you go. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to do that for the rest of my life. I want to spend forever by your side. Silena Beauregard… will you marry me?”

Silena’s smile is wide and breathtaking. She doesn’t say a word before sinking to her knees, so she’s level with Clarisse. She puts a hand on either side of Clarisse’s face and kisses her. And kisses her. And kisses her. 

When Silena pulls away, leaving Clarisse a bit breathless, Clarisse says, “Is… was that a yes?” 

“Yes,” Silena laughs, tears spilling down her face. “Gods, yes!” 

The laugh that spills out of Clarisse is full of so much joy and delight. She pulls Silena close and kisses her again, letting her hand cup Silena’s jaw. She can feel Silena’s smile against her lips. Clarisse’s own smile grows larger; she’s never known joy like this. Silena’s delight radiates off of her like a physical thing, wrapping around Clarisse until her head starts to feel a little foggy.

Clarisse pulls away first, the ring still in her hand. “May I?” 

Silena beams, nodding silently. Clarisse gently slides the ring onto her finger, admiring it for a moment before pressing her lips to the top of Silena’s hand. Silena gazes down at the familiar ring, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she finally realizes its sentimental value. Clarisse didn’t think it possible, but Silena’s smile grows even wider. 

“I love you so much,” Clarisse whispers, overcome with emotion. “So fucking much.” 

“I love you, too,” Silena says, her eyes sparkling brighter than the diamond on her hand. “I love you today. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, Clarisse, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would be yours in each one.” 

Clarisse kisses her again, and this time, she tastes of salt. Of tears. Clarisse is pretty sure they’re both crying and smiling. When they pull apart again, still wrapped around one another on the ground, Clarisse presses her forehead against Silena’s. 

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Clarisse asks. “You’re the queen, you know. I understand if you need to—” 

“Shut up,” Silena says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I choose you. Over and over again, I’d choose you.” 

And that’s enough to quell the last few nerves in Clarisse’s heart. She kisses her girlfriend — no, her fiancé with a smile on her face. 

“Should we go tell everyone the good news?” 

+++++

Clarisse has never heard such a loud cheer. 

Hand in hand, she and Silena had delivered the good news to their gathered friends. It was Percy, of course, who cheered first. He’d lifted his glass and let out an ear-shattering cheer, which was promptly followed by the rest of their friends. 

Piper hugs Clarisse tightly, muttering something about how she’ll kill her if Clarisse ever hurts Silena. It just makes Clarisse laugh in delight; she hugs Piper back tightly. 

Annabeth congratulates Clarisse, smiling brightly and holding a hand to the swell of her stomach. She’s about halfway through the pregnancy and handling it like a champion. Her husband stands next to her protectively, one hand always on the small of her back. 

Clarisse bows respectively, “Thank you, Queen Annabeth. How are you feeling?” 

Annabeth waves a hand through the air, “No need for formalities, Clarisse. Besides, you’re about to become queen-consort! As for the pregnancy, I’m really starting to…” 

Annabeth continues talking, bemoaning her aching feet and back. But Clarisse’s mind snags on the word queen-consort. By marrying the Queen of Cyprus, Clarisse will automatically become the queen-consort. She’s not sure the kingdom has ever had a queen-consort. If she thought my lady was a rough term to adjust to, how in the world is she going to get used to your majesty?  

Clarisse swallows roughly, hanging onto Silena’s hand a little tighter. Her fiancé is currently engaged in a conversation with Piper, but she squeezes back twice. It fills Clarisse with bravery. 

When Annabeth is done listing her current ailments, she pats her belly happily and wanders off to the dessert table. Percy, who looks far more wild and stressed than usual, smiles after her. Then he looks to Clarisse, a serious expression on his face. 

“How you feeling, La Rue?” he asks, wiggling his dark eyebrows. 

She really hates how much she likes this guy. She’ll never admit it to Silena, of course, but the jokes about the two of them being best friends… aren’t that far off. She’s found a solace in Percy Jackson. 

“Nervous,” she admits. “I sort of forgot this will make me queen-consort.” 

He nods in understanding. “As a king-consort, I totally get it. Some people think I married Annabeth for the title, and they’re going to think the same of you. No matter what, Clarisse, don’t let it get to you. Lean on your friends and peers for support. Trust your instincts, and trust your wife. You’ve got this.” 

Wife. Silena is going to be her wife. Clarisse is going to be a wife. Gods, it’s the best word she’s ever heard. 

Clarisse thanks Percy, and then he wanders off to find his wife. And, knowing him, to find a blue scone. For some reason, he only likes the desserts with blue icing. Before Clarisse can turn back to Silena, she’s crushed in a massive bear hug. All she can see is a mop of blond, curly hair. She laughs and hugs him back, delighted. 

When Will Solace finally pulls away from her, she takes in his appearance with a grin. He’s changed a lot in the last year, ever since being promoted to the official Royal Healer. He wears his healer robes with pride, his blond hair shining like gold in the lantern light. 

“I’m so fucking happy for you, ‘Risse!” he exclaims, punching her in the arm. “Who would have thought?” 

Clarisse grins, ruffling his hair much to his annoyance. “Thanks for saving my life so many times,” she says. “I’m glad I lived long enough to get to the good part.” 

Will’s smile softens, his eyes flitting between Clarisse and Silena. “I’m glad, too.” He rubs his hands together, and says, “Now! That’s enough with the wishy-washy shit. I’m here to talk to you about something very serious.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

He leans in close, his eyes serious and tone solemn. “Can I please be your best man?” 

+++++

ONE YEAR LATER

Silena wakes up to the sound of birds chirping. The large window is open, letting in a warm summertime breeze. When she opens her eyes, she sees beautiful golden sunlight filling her bedroom. 

Clarisse is already awake. She’s holding a book over her face, reading and murmuring the words softly. Silena has noticed the other woman has a habit of reading aloud; Silena adores it. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” Silena says, stretching her arms up and over her head. 

Clarisse smiles as she closes the book and sets it on the bedside table. “Good morning, darling.” She presses a soft kiss to Silena’s forehead before saying, “How was your night?” 

Silena and Clarisse were apart last night for a long time — both enjoying a hen night with their friends. Silena spent the evening drinking wine with Piper, Annabeth, and Rachel. They swapped dirty stories, laughed over old jokes, and spent time coddling Annabeth’s baby. Clarisse, as far as Silena knows, spent the evening with Percy, Reyna, and Will Solace. Only the gods know what those fools got up to. 

“Got a bit of a headache, to be honest,” Silena admits, pressing herself firmly against Clarisse’s side. “I think we went through six bottles of that strawberry wine I like so much.” 

Clarisse snorts, pressing a kiss to the top of Silena’s head. “I hope you saved some for today.” 

“Hmmm… I’ll have to check,” Silena says teasingly. “Dionysus will be devastated if the reception doesn’t have any wine. I suppose I’ll have to check in with the kitchen beforehand…”

“We can go and check now if you like?” Clarisse asks, eyebrow raised. 

“Oh, no, not right now,” Silena murmurs, pressing a kiss to the underside of Clarisse’s jaw. 

“Tsk tsk,” says Clarisse, though the corners of her mouth tilt up into a smirk. 

“I’m the queen,” Silena protests, pressing another kiss to Clarisse’s neck. “I do what I please.” 

Clarisse’s nostrils flare, her eyes darkening. “Oh?” 

“Mhmm,” Silena hums. She bites her lip, which immediately draws Clarisse’s eyes. “There will be time for all those last-minute problems later. Right now, I think I’m rather busy.” 

“Is that so?” Clarisse asks, eyebrow raised. Clarisse licks her lips, hands dropping down to Silena’s thighs. “Would it please you to kiss me, your majesty?”

***

Silena props herself up on one elbow so that her head is level with Clarisse’s. “It would. Although…” Silena hums, trailing a finger down Clarisse’s muscled arm. “I think you might be a bit overdressed for what I had planned.”

Clarisse swallows heavily, her eyes flitting from Silena’s eyes to her lips to her chest. Silena can practically hear the thumping of her fiancé’s heart. 

“That can be fixed,” Clarisse whispers as she slides cool hands underneath Silena’s shirt to skim up her sides. Just as quickly, she draws her hands away, leaving Silena shivering. Clarisse tentatively picks at the hem of her own shirt. She tugs her shirt up and off, leaving her muscled chest and torso bare to the world. 

“Well aren’t you helpful,” Silena says, drinking in the sight of her. She tilts her head just a bit as Clarisse trails her lips along Silena’s jawline, making her pulse pick up and a delicious tingle run through her body. When Clarisse moves her lips to a sensitive spot just below Silena’s jaw, the queen sighs in pleasure. 

Silena lets her teeth graze over Clarisse’s neck while her hands move up to cup Clarisse’s breasts. Thumbs sweep over rapidly stiffening nipples, and Clarisse shakily exhales and presses closer into Silena’s touch. This neediness that Clarisse displays in bed will never not wreck Silena. 

“You’re fully dressed,” Clarisse murmurs, her breath hitching on the last word when Silena bites gently on her neck. After a moment, she collects herself. “What do you think we should do about that?” 

Silena shudders in pleasure as Clarisse rakes her dark eyes over her body. Clarisse’s lips curl up into a devilish grin as she notices Silena’s arousal. She snakes her warm, sure hands up Silena’s sides under her shirt. She caresses Silena’s breasts, soft and gentle and teasing. Silena arcs into her touch. Before Clarisse can continue teasing her, Silena yanks her shirt up and over her head, leaving her completely bare from the waist up.

Above her, Clarisse’s gaze skims from her chest up to her eyes. “Better,” she murmurs.

Silena takes a moment, skimming her knuckles against Clarisse’s sides. She stares up at the woman she loves, the woman she is going to marry, and she smiles. In response, Clarisse lowers her mouth to Silena’s neck, kissing up that scar now permanently etched in Silena’s skin. 

Silena captures Clarisse’s lips in a slow, tantalizing kiss that she can feel everywhere. Clarisse’s strong arms wind around her back as Silena presses into her mouth. Silena can feel her body already growing desperate with need; every touch and sound makes her crave more. 

Apparently sensing that need, Clarisse settles a knee between her thighs without ever breaking their increasingly heated kisses. 

“Fuck,” Silena pants into Clarisse’s mouth, grinding her hips forward onto Clarisse. Heat licks through her body, settling lower and lower. Clarisse is dedicated and focused on the battlefield, and she's no different in bed. She attunes her focus to Silena’s every want and desire, moving back and forth just enough to give Silena the friction she so desperately wants. 

Silena rubs her hands up Clarisse’s bare back, her fingertips finding every dip and nook in the other woman’s body. She runs her hands over the scars there; the proof of survival. Clarisse arches her back into Silena’s touch, moaning softly when Silena digs her nails in. 

“The window is open,” Clarisse pants, her breath hot against Silena’s face. “We should… we should probably slow things down before someone hears…” 

When Silena sucks on her neck, Clarisse abandons her train of thought and moans again. Silena’s hands grow bolder between them, cupping and stroking and dragging her nails. She should probably care about the open window. And the castle, which is currently full of her friends and family members. But with Clarisse on top of her and this desire pooling between her legs, her mind is far from what she should do. 

“I don’t care if they hear me scream your name,” Silena whispers, grinding down ever harder on Clarisse’s well-positioned knee. 

That seems to do something wild to Clarisse. Her eyes become impossibly dark, a familiar, cocky smile coming to her face. Silena has always found that arrogance to be devastatingly attractive. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want our guests to hear you so early in the morning,” Clarisse hums, her hips pressing onto Silena’s own. The pressure, the friction, is enough to make Silena audibly moan.“I’m to be your wife and queen-consort. Aren’t there formalities and rules to think of?” 

Wife. The word is enough to make Silena surge forward and catch Clarisse in a kiss, who eagerly meets her, stroke for stroke. The need between Silena’s legs grows even more intense, so much so that she thinks she might come undone without even touching Clarisse. 

“Fuck the rules,” Silena whines, “You’ve never once followed them. Don’t start now. ” 

Clarisse grins. She pulls away from Silena’s lips, apparently sensing her desperation. She slowly slides her thigh out from under Silena, ignoring the huff of indignation Silena lets out. Clarisse kisses her way down Silena’s body, licking and kissing until Silena’s toes are curling and her breath is coming in hot, fast gasps. 

Silena’s legs spread involuntarily as Clarisse hovers over her, eyes dark and lips swollen. Clarisse tugs her underwear down, down, down until they hit the bedroom floor. 

“We’re going to be late,” Clarisse warns, pressing a kiss to the inside of Silena’s thigh. 

Dear gods this is torture. Silena is about to sit up and say so when Clarisse presses another kiss to her, higher this time. Silena forgets whatever she was going to say the moment Clarisse’s tongue finds her center. Electricity crackles through Silena’s veins, pleasantly burning her from the inside out.  

She tilts her head back and moans, twisting her hands into curly, brown hair as Clarisse continues to lick and kiss. Clarisse takes her time, lavishing every inch of bare skin before her. Silena can barely form a thought; her body arcs and shakes, her breathing coming in rapid pants. She fists her hands in Clarisse’s hair, tugging on the ends ever so slightly. Clarisse hums in approval, which only pleasures Silena more. 

“Clarisse…” Silena moans out in a low, strained voice. 

“So desperate for my touch,” Clarisse hums. 

She can feel Clarisse’s smile. At the sound of Silena’s whimpering plea, Clarisse drags a hand down Silena’s body, then begins to circle Silena’s clit with her thumb. The touch, combined with Clarisse’s tongue, makes Silena see stars. 

She moans — she doesn’t even know what she’s saying. It might be Clarisse’s name, it might be complete gibberish. She doesn’t have the presence of mind to know or care. Clarisse’s touch speeds up and intensifies, which only makes the pressure in Silena build up even more.

The moment Clarisse dips two fingers inside of her, she knows she won’t be able to hold out much longer.

Silena glances down and a throaty moan escapes her lips when she finds dark eyes already trained on her. Long, steady fingers thrust and curl into her and Silena knows she's almost there. She’s going to explode, she’s going to fall into a million pieces, all under Clarisse’s confident touch. 

Her climax builds and builds, her entire body tense and shaking. She moans Clarisse’s name over and over; her chest heaves and her thighs clench around Clarisse, who never slows her pace. Silena’s mouth falls open in a silent moan until finally, finally her orgasm rips through her.

She sees stars and white light and nothing, all at once. Her body is buzzing, her mind racing, her heart pounding. As Clarisse talks her through it, murmuring words of praise and approval, Silena slowly comes down from her release. 

It takes a while for Silena to recover the ability to speak. When she does, she meets Clarisse’s gaze and says, “Your turn.” 

Clarisse’s eyebrows shoot up, whether in surprise or arousal, Silena isn’t sure. She stays settled between Silena’s legs until Silena starts pouting. Clarisse gives a low, hoarse laugh and kisses her softly. She climbs on top of Silena, who is delighted to discover how slick and wet her fiancé already is. 

“Fuck,” Clarisse whispers as she moves her hips back and forth across Silena’s thigh, seeking her own pleasure. 

“As you wish,” Silena says cockily, her energy renewed. Clarisse tilts her head down to capture Silena in a kiss that’s pure desperation. Silena can taste herself on Clarisse’s tongue as they kiss; she can’t help the smirk that comes to her face.

Quicker than Clarisse can follow, Silena manages to flip them over, so that she’s on top of Clarisse. Clarisse lets out a happy sigh and rolls her shoulders as she settles against the mattress. 

There is nothing in the world that Silena likes more than pleasuring Clarisse. There is no image better than that of Clarisse with her head back, moaning, as Silena lies between her legs. 

So that’s exactly what Silena does. 

She takes her time working her way down Clarisse’s body. She presses soft, tender kisses to each scar on Clarisse’s body. She smirks every time Clarisse lets out a deep, throaty moan. 

Clarisse’s lust-filled eyes stay trained on her as Silena continues to drag her mouth lower and lower. When she pauses above Clarisse’s center, her knight begs, “Don’t tease.” 

Silena obeys immediately. She presses her mouth to Clarisse. After a moment, she slides her fingers through Clarisse’s slick heat. A long, low moan escapes Clarisse as Silena inserts herself. Clarisse uses one hand to brace herself on the bed, and the other to card through Silena’s hair. 

“Gods,” Clarisse moans, bucking her hips to Silena’s pace. 

“Don’t bring them into this,” Silena teases. 

“Silena,” Clarisse moans. 

“Much better,” Silena says, drawing another moan from Clarisse’s lips. She eventually starts to increase her speed, which makes Clarisse’s head fall back and her eyes close in pleasure. When her lips part and she moans, Silena can’t help the revered whisper that escapes her lips, “You’re so beautiful.”

Clarisse doesn’t stop moaning as she rides Silena’s fingers. That’s one of the things Silena likes most about their time in bed — Clarisse is loud. She’s never meek or quiet; she’s always vocal about the things that bring her pleasure. 

When Clarisse reaches her own climax, walls tightening around Silena’s fingers and her body arching, Silena takes her through it. She slows her pace only when Clarisse’s moans finally quiet into soft, pleased whimpers. 

****

Silena slowly climbs back on top of Clarisse, collapsing into the bed next to her. Clarisse’s chest rises and falls rapidly, her eyes still half-closed in delirious pleasure. 

“I love you,” Silena murmurs, pressing a kiss to Clarisse’s bare shoulder. 

After a moment of collecting herself, Clarisse says, “I love you, too. And not only because you can do that with your fingers.” 

Silena grins, pleased with herself. She snuggles closer to Clarisse, wrapping her arm around Clarisse’s bare torso. They stay that way for some time, just pressed against one another and enjoying the peace they fought so hard for. 

When Clarisse finally regains control of her limbs, she turns on her side to face Silena. A curl hangs in her face, so Silena carefully tucks the strand behind Clarisse’s ear. 

“We really should get up, you know,” Clarisse murmurs. 

Silena scoffs, “Who knew you were such a rule follower? Always worrying about schedules and rules. Hmmph. I’m beginning to wonder if you aren’t related to Annabeth somehow.” 

Clarisse laughs, “Well, excuse me for not wanting to be late to my own wedding.” 

Silena rolls onto her back, a grin overtaking her face. “Oh, is that today?” 

Clarisse snorts, pressing a kiss to Silena’s cheek. “I believe it is, yes. Will you be attending?” 

Silena stares into the eyes of her knight. Her lover. Her fiancé. Her soon-to-be wife and consort. She smiles, overwhelmed with the joy and excitement in her heart. 

“It would be my honor,” she whispers. 

Clarisse beams, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. 

“Good. Then get out of bed. We are very late for our own wedding.”

Notes:

thank you again for reading this and supporting me! you're all amazing and I'm grateful to have engaged with you.

if you're looking for more Ruegard content, check out my other fics! I plan on writing more fics with this pairing, too. that said, if you have any recommendations or suggestions for what YOU would like to read, let me know!

saying goodbye to this world is bittersweet, but I'm comforted in the fact that so many of you enjoyed it, too.

see you next time <3