Chapter Text
1: Aphrodite
Aphrodite was in a mood. A mood so foul it seemed even the prospect of an Olympic party could not rectify it.
She glanced at Perseus again, but his heart’s song remained the same. He would not fall for Annabeth in the future.
When had the change occurred? She’d been keeping a careful eye on their story throughout his quest, and things had been going perfectly. Not even ten minutes ago, Percy had awkwardly stumbled through an attempt to stop Annabeth from joining the huntresses. It had been adorable.
The boy needn’t have worried though, Aphrodite would never have let that happen. Her plans would not be spoiled. Yet looking at Perseus now, she knew she had somehow failed.
As the muses began to play, she threaded her way through the crowd of gods waiting to congratulate him. Reaching the front, she shouldered Apollo out of the way and grabbed his arm. The boy sent a panicked glance in Apollo’s direction as he was dragged away, but he allowed himself to be pulled into a corner of the hall.
“Look at me,” she compelled.
He already was, but now he’d have trouble looking away.
“Who is it you see? Who has tempted you away from her?”
The boy fought the compulsion for a few seconds, but he was no match for a request from Love herself.
“Annabeth,” he choked out.
“You lie,” Aphrodite accused. She could see that his attraction to Annabeth had vanished—except how could a mere demigod, even if he was a son of Poseidon, lie under her compulsion? Was this not a lie?
There was one way to find out. Her eyes skimmed the hall for Apollo.
“I’m leaving.” It was Perseus talking to her. He had used her wandering attention to finally free himself from her grip. She reached to grab him again only to find Apollo positioned in between them.
“He’s leaving,” Apollo affirmed, crossing his arms and glaring at her from over his sunglasses.
“No.” Aphrodite sneered. “I need a question answered first, and I need you to tell me if he’s telling the truth or not.”
Surprisingly, at her words Perseus stilled. Apollo also didn’t seem to know what to think of the now aborted escape attempt.
“Kid?” he inquired.
Perseus stepped to the side, still keeping Apollo in between them, but able to meet her eyes again. “You want to ask me, the same question as earlier?”
Aphrodite nodded.
“I’ll answer, but first you must swear not to eavesdrop on my conversation for the rest of this evening.”
Aphrodite bristled. Who was he to be making demands? Insolent mortal.
A glance at Apollo made it clear that the god did not share this attitude and was not going to let her get an answer unless she agreed to Perseus’s terms. How… strange. Flashes of the possessiveness Coronis and Hyacinth had inspired in Apollo came to mind, and she snuck a peak at the relationship between them. But no, nothing was going on there.
She sighed in defeat. “I, Aphrodite, swear on the River Styx to avoid eavesdropping on your conversations throughout the night in return for a truthful answer to my question as verified by Apollo.”
“Ask me your question.”
“Who do you see when you look at me?”
“Annabeth.” Percy grinned at her before turning to walk away, Apollo following shortly behind.
“What was that about?” Aphrodite overheard Apollo ask.
“Gods if I know. However, it’s nice to have one less potential eavesdropper—” it occurred to Aphrodite then that what she was doing could be construed as eavesdropping. Not wanting to test Styx’s limits, she turned and speed walked in the opposite direction.
2: Artemis
Artemis felt Apollo's presence before she saw him. She said her goodbyes to the gathering around the campfire, taking care to let Zoë know not to let anyone into her tent before going to meet her twin.
"Brother," she greeted, "looking for this?"
She held out the all-cure contained in Panaea's vial. Zoë had requested she return it after the fight, with the claim that Percy Jackson had saved her from Ladon's poison by giving it to her.
She wasn't sure how the demigod son of Poseidon had come across it, since he left that out of his summary for the Olympians and as far as she knew only Apollo knew of his granddaughter's location. She certainly had a theory though, and that theory was sitting right in front of her.
"Nah, what I'm looking for is actually on Delos." He pocketed the vial anyway. "Accompany me?"
Ah, so Apollo wanted a private conversation. She could grant that. Both twins flashed onto the island.
"What are we doing here?" Artemis asked. "I hope you are not expecting me to get on my knees and sing your praises, though, I am grateful for your interference in this quest as it saved the life of Zoë who is very dear to me."
Apollo placed his hands dramatically over his heart. "Little sister, you wound me. I would never make my assistance conditional on effusive praise."
Artemis raised an eyebrow at him. She took a certain amount of pride in her ability to pull off this expression even in her favored twelve-year-old form.
"No, really, it is enough for me to see that your companion is alive and well. I brought us to Delos because I thought you may have some questions about the current state of the prophecy."
Artemis frowned. "Brother, I was never informed of the prophecy's content."
Apollo face palmed, a novel gesture despite the two millennia they'd known each other.
"My bad," he groaned. "Five shall go west to the goddess in chains. One shall be lost in the land without rain. The bane of Olympus shows the trail. Campers and Hunters combined prevail. The Titan’s curse must one withstand. And one shall perish by a parent’s hand."
Artemis repeated the lines in her head. It was obvious she was the goddess in chains and Percy Jackson the one lost in the land without rain and the one who withstood the Titan's curse. However—
"Who perished?" she demanded.
None of her huntresses were dead. She would have noticed. She let her consciousness drift back to the camp and performed a quick headcount just in case.
"Artemis," Apollo called her back, "no one. No one perished."
"The prophecy would not lie."
‘One shall perish by a parent’s hand.’
Zeus would not kill her. In another world maybe he had killed Thalia, but not this one. Poseidon it seemed would rather fade than touch a hair on young Perseus's head. Bianca's parentage was still unknown, though Artemis suspected they were definitely one of the Chthonic gods. She resolved to keep a close eye on her in the upcoming weeks. Zoë’s father… Atlas had been there.
Artemis closed her eyes, tightening her grip on her bow. "Zoë is still dying. The panacea did not work."
"What? No!" Apollo shouted. "Arty, listen to me. Prophecy is my domain, and you are misunderstanding how it works. Do you remember from the ancient times our brother Perseus?"
"You know I most likely do not," she'd probably let it go in one ear and out the other.
Artemis was quite grateful that the age of Greek heroes was long gone. Their accomplishments had been all the nature spirits ever wanted to talk about back then.
"What about his mother Danaë. I believe she prayed to you?"
Artemis recalled her clearly. She had asked for a safe childbirth inside the walls of her prison, and Artemis had heard her prayer ring with the girl's maidenhood. For their father had impregnated her not through penetration, but through a golden shower of rain that left a newly conceived demigod in its wake.
"Aye, I do remember her. Our father was cruel to her, and her father Acrisius even crueler to try to dodge his fated death at the hands of her son by locking her in that tower."
Apollo nodded solemnly. "That they were, but do you remember how Acrisius died?"
"I do not."
"He died many years later, through an accident at an athletic competition. At the hands of Perseus yes, but not intentionally despite the suffering he forced upon the boy and his mother in his paranoia."
"And this is relevant because?"
"The prophecy says one of the demigods will die at the hands of a parent. The fates have decreed it and so it shall be, or perhaps it will even even be me, you, Atlas, or anyone else who played a role with some significance. But it does not have to happen yet."
Artemis took a deep breath. "I understand."
"I'm glad."
"And brother…" she paused, "make sure it is not you."
Artemis wasn't quite sure why she had added that. Maybe it was simply in response to Apollo's unexpected addition of their names to the list of possibilities. Her brother had always seemed so confident of his place in this world. A confidence that should not have let him even consider his fading or losing favor with Zeus as a possibility.
"Aww," Apollo crooned, "so you do love me."
She sent a hunting dagger flying his direction. Her aim was true: only his godly reflexes kept it from impaling his phallus. Pity.
"Rude." He handed the dagger back to her. "But Artemis, if I hold any sway with the fates, know that it will not be either of us."
"Good," she replied, turning to face the shore.
The sun was setting now, painting the waters in brilliant shades of red, pink, and orange intermixed with a gold so vibrant she knew Apollo must be giving it some divine attention. She gave herself one long moment to enjoy her brother's work, leaning slightly into him.
Then she stepped back, leaving his warmth behind. "I'm returning to my huntresses now. You've kept me away for long enough."
"See you soon, sister dearest," he called out behind her as she boarded in the moon chariot.
3: Sally Jackson
Sally Jackson was waiting anxiously at the door. While Percy had Iris messaged her briefly to tell her he’d rescued Annabeth and was coming home shortly, Sally knew she wasn’t going to fully relax until she had him back in her arms.
A knock sounded. She wasted no time in flipping the deadbolt, flinging the door open, and pulling her son into a hug.
“Mom.” He breathed out raggedly, and, oh god, that wasn’t a word she wanted to use to describe Percy. She squeezed him tighter, not letting go until he started to squirm.
As they drew apart, her eyes were drawn to the new gray streak in his hair. She decided not to ask. Percy could tell her when he was ready, but she wouldn’t make him talk about his quest a moment sooner.
If Percy noticed her scrutiny he didn’t seem bothered by it. He sniffed exaggeratedly at the air.
“Cookies?” he asked.
“Cookies," she confirmed. "Go to the living room. I’ll bring them out.”
Sally made quick work of removing the cookies from the cooling rack and stacking them on a plate, anxious to get back to her son.
When she emerged from the kitchen, Percy was perched on the edge of the couch bouncing his knee. He was nervous too. She frowned. Hopefully it was just leftover adrenaline.
He pivoted to face her as she set the cookies down, taking a seat on the couch.
"Mom…" he trailed off.
She resisted the urge to shove a cookie at him, but that would force him to accept her comfort before they had whatever this conversation would be.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. If he was ready, then she could be ready too. "Yes, Percy?"
"I think I should be taking a more active role at camp and—"
Her baby was leaving her. He wanted to go year round at camp, and he was leaving her. Except—the part of her brain that was still listening spoke up—that wasn’t what he was saying.
"—so yeah I was thinking of alternating weekends at camp and Atlantis."
“Percy, if you want to go to camp year round that’s alright,” she stated. It didn’t feel like it now, but it would be. They’d figure it out.
“No,” his response was immediate. “I’d rather stay with you.”
Thank Poseidon he was suggesting this instead.
"Okay.” Sally couldn’t help the relieved smile that slipped through. She suspected he knew this was her preference too. “We can definitely figure this out. Friday nights I attend my writing seminar, so I'd prefer if we drive up Saturday mornings. But I could miss it every other week if necessary. I assume your father will take care of transportation to Atlantis?"
"Oh no, you don't have to do that mom. I've got transportation all figured out."
Sally ran through her mental catalogue of Greek myths. A pegasus maybe? Would her son have told her if he'd encountered a pegasus? What would the Mist even do about a teenage boy riding a pegasus? She'd rather her son not get in trouble with law enforcement again.
"Percy, I feel like I ought to ask. How exactly do you plan on getting to camp?"
He hesitated before he replied. "Apollo agreed to take me in the sun chariot."
The sun chariot—of course that was real too, though in the one myth she knew, Phaethon's, it had been driven by Helios.
Phaethon was Helios’s son, had begged to be allowed to drive his chariot, and had driven it into the Earth. Her brain couldn’t help but conjure images of her son crashing and burning in a random field off highway 27.
She grabbed the cookie tray. "I'm withholding these until you promise to never drive the chariot yourself."
He shuddered slightly at the idea. "Don't worry, I'm good. Even if his car is super sweet."
She held out the tray towards him as an offering. "In that case, it's cookie time."
Percy gladly accepted one and began chewing away. Sally would join him, but she was still busy digesting her son's proposal.
"Your father told me it wasn't a good idea for you to be on flights because the sky is your uncle's domain. Have you considered if the sun chariot is safe?"
Percy had just picked up cookie number two. "It's not ideal. We're not really worried about Uncle trying anything. Apollo's aura is so bright he won’t even notice me up there unless he’s looking and it's a short trip. We're mostly worried about someone from camp noticing and letting it slip, but we think it’s worth it for the benefit I'll be able to provide by being there."
"Well, I'm glad you considered the risks." She was glad, and honestly a little surprised.
It was just a week ago when she dropped them off at Westover Hall that she'd been thanking Athena for Annabeth's level-headed nature and how great of a help her daughter had been on Percy's quests.
The Percy who sat on her couch now seemed like he had a lot more forethought than the one who’d been in the backseat of her car then. He'd even gone out of his way to avoid saying his uncle's name—a habit she'd been unsuccessfully trying to ingrain in him since he’d discovered his heritage.
While Sally would never wish being kidnapped and forced to hold up the sky on anyone—except maybe Gabe—it seemed facing a quest without Annabeth by his side had been good for him.
Sally finally let herself take a cookie. She was about to eat it when another thought occurred to her. "Wait, camp is east of here. Is that a problem?"
"Hrm." Percy didn't bother finishing the cookie in his mouth before answering her. "Prob’bly not? 'pollo wouldv’toldme ‘fitwas." He swallowed. "I think."
Well, if anyone would know, it would be Apollo. However, Sally would be up at the crack of dawn two weeks later to see her son off just in case.
4: Lee Fletcher
“Come in,” Lee called in response to a knock at the infirmary door.
The stranger who entered was far too tall, and also, a stranger. Lee checked that his bow has been left within reach. However, he refused to reach for it, not when the cloth bundle the man has pressed tightly against his arm is turning red where it meets skin.
There went one of his theories though—unless gods can purposefully turn their blood red?
“What happened?” Lee asked, grabbing a packet of ambrosia as well as the kit containing a sanitized needle and thread for stitches.
“I am Lester Papadopoulos, descendant of Zeus. I was stabbed by a demigod and came to Camp Half Blood for assistance. Will you provide it to me?”
Definitely a god.
Lee smiled widely as he agrees to treat the stranger. If this is a test, he refused to fail. He’d like to leave the infirmary on two human feet later.
The stranger didn’t try to engage him in conversation as Lee cleaned and stitched up their arm, which he took as a small mercy. The much larger mercy is that he’s experienced enough with basic wound care by now to work entirely on autopilot.
There was only room for one thought in his brain: ‘please don’t be Apollo’. For the third thing he’d noticed when the stranger walked in the room, after their unfamiliarity and height, was that their hair color is the exact same shade of blond as Will’s.
Getting turned into an animal would suck, but Lee would really rather it wasn’t his dad that did it.
What other god would choose their alias to be a “descendant of Zeus” though. It was a terrible cover. Lee couldn’t say for sure that there were no descendants of Zeus’s past demigod children with knowledge of the gods, but it seemed highly unlikely. This cover, however, was the only choice for a truth-telling god.
“And… all done.” Lee double-checked to make sure he wasn’t grimacing.
It’s a little silly. There was no reason to grimace. His father had been great whenever they’d met at the solstices and the few times they’d played music together in Lee’s dreams, but Lee couldn’t shake off the lingering dread. For Hades’s sake, why was he here?
Apollo inspected the stitches on his arm. “You have shown me great hospitality, Lee Fletcher, son of … myself.” Apollo’s form flickered and Lee squeezed his eyes shut tight.
When the back of his eyelids returned to normal dark, he decided it was safe to open his eyes. His father smiled at him, now in his favored form before lowering his sunglasses and to wink.
And despite having his fear proven correct, Lee felt a sudden rush of fondness. He dipped his head in a slight bow. “Father, what is this?”
“Lee—”There was a warm hand on his shoulder. That’s never happened before. Apollo gave him a tight squeeze. “You have done well, my son. I believe an appropriate reward would be an inspection of the infirmary and supplying anything you may be lacking or low on.”
The hand hadn’t left his shoulder yet. He let out an almost disbelieving laugh. “I—really? What is happening?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Apollo winked again—the addict. “I’ll tell you what isn’t happening: direct interference. However, Zeus Xenios could not possibly object to the rewarding of someone proven to be a good host.”
Apollo releases his shoulder and began opening and inspecting the contents of the various drawers around them.
So… his father was finding loopholes in the ancient laws to help them in the war effort. That was nice of him. Or maybe it was a bad sign.
“Are you,” Lee swallowed, “worried about how the war is going to go?”
Apollo froze mid search. When he looks up to meet Lee’s eyes, Lee can’t help but think this was the most human he’s ever seen a god look—even more so than the mortal disguise Apollo had been wearing earlier.
The silence hung heavy around them. Lee waited.
Finally, Apollo hummed a short note of consideration. “I’m not too worried about the war, Percy has that handled. However, I don’t want to lose you. Any of you, if I can help it.”
Lee was too busy feeling all warm and fuzzy from the second half of his father’s admission to question Apollo’s absolute faith in Percy Jackson until he’s trying to go to bed. That had been strange, right?
5: Annabeth Chase
Annabeth Chase wanted answers—and when Annabeth Chase wanted answers Annabeth Chase got answers. Percy was easy enough to find by following the shouts of delighted preteens who were having a full blown splash war against him in the canoe lake. She crossed her arms and leaned against a tree until he'd sunk the last of their boats, depositing the two campers it had contained safely ashore.
"Looks like I win again," he grinned, magically propelling his canoe to the shore and disembarking.
"We'll get you next time," one of her younger siblings shouted before the kids scattered.
Annabeth startled when he turned around to give his attention to her. She hadn't realized that he was aware of her presence. She constantly forgot how perceptive he could be.
"What's up, Wise Girl?" he asked.
Finally, it was time for catharsis. Annabeth grinned. "I just sparred with Clarisse."
"And? Did you win?" he asked.
She shook her head at herself. She may have just underestimated his perceptiveness, but that didn't mean he was a mind reader. "What's the deal with her new weapon, Seaweed Brain?"
‘Maimer,’ Clarisse had called it. Apollo had crafted it himself, because apparently he did that for random demigods now. Or at least for the random demigods that had beaten Percy Jackson in a fight. Annabeth burned to know how Percy had managed to arrange this.
"Ah, did you want your own?" Percy asked. "You're just so attached to your knife, so I didn't think you would, but I can totally get you one. You're still the one who can beat me most frequently."
His analysis was unfortunately spot on. Annabeth felt her frustration rise at the reminder that the new strangeness that existed between the two wasn’t mutual. Percy, despite sometimes seeming unrecognizable as the boy she'd been on two quests with, still knew her like the back of his hand.
She shoved it down. She was here for answers. "No, it's not that. How in Hades did you get Apollo to agree to craft special weapons for the demigods that could beat you in the fight?"
"It's about the—um—the idea of mediocrity?"
She snorted. "I don't think that's the word you were looking for Seaweed Brain."
"It isn't? It's the idea that it's good for the education system to reward the people who are talented. Apollo is also the god of education and philosophy, so he was down to help me institute it."
"Really, Seaweed Brain? You're not going to convince me that you knew what a meritocratic education was and used it to convince Apollo to arm the demigods, when you told me it was called mediocrity."
Percy deflated slightly. "I just thought it would be a good idea if we were better armed as a camp."
"I agree,” Annabeth stated. “And I want to know: how did you pull that off?"
“Annabeth, can you please just drop it.” He looked her in the eyes. "I don't want to lie to you."
"Then don't," Annabeth's eyes started to burn and she blinked rapidly, trying to dismiss the tears. "Just tell the truth. It's not that hard."
Her first tear escaped during the ensuing silence. Percy's eyes tracked it down her face, looking so incredibly guilt ridden she almost felt bad. Except he was the one making the choice to lie to her, his supposed second-in-command.
"Come here, Wise Girl." Percy tried to pull her into a hug.
She shoved him. Hard.
"Fair enough," he glanced at the lake as if seeking guidance. "Punch me if it'll make you feel better, but this is what we're going to do. I swear on the River Styx—"
Annabeth’s panic flared and she punched him to cut him off. "Percy, don't. I trust you without bringing the Styx into this and it's dangerous to have her oaths floating over you."
He grinned at her and she could tell he was already relieved.
Annabeth couldn’t have that. She scowled at him until he continued.
"What I was going to say was ‘I would tell you the truth if I could be 100% sure it wouldn't jeopardize the war against granddad, but right now I'll tell you as much of the truth as I'm able to.’
"I came up with the idea and brought it up to Apollo. Riptide has always been extraordinarily helpful to me in fights, and I thought it would help the war effort if other people also had access to weapons with unique abilities. After Artemis had to hold up the sky, Apollo thinks the gods should do more to stop granddad and is willing to help as much as possible.
"The meri—meritocracy idea was Apollo's excuse for what to say if Zeus or anyone on the council objected. If he connects it back to his domains and pretends it was his idea born out of his love for education, he thought it would be less of an issue. He thought it was best if that's what we told people here too since secrets quickly become harder and harder to keep the more people that know about them."
'This isn't the whole truth,' Annabeth had to remind herself. It seemed pretty complete, but Percy had told her that he wouldn't be able to tell her the whole truth himself.
She thought about continuing to interrogate him. This obfuscation had been well-delivered, but it had the advantage of being practiced. She was reasonably confident she could figure out what he was keeping from her if she tried.
However, the last thing Percy said, 'secrets quickly become harder and harder to keep the more people that know about them', she couldn't disagree with.
Percy was smiling at her now with the easy confidence he’d carried ever since his quest to rescue her. It was the smile of a stranger, containing none of the teenage awkwardness she was used to seeing, but she looked into his eyes and found that she trusted him all the same.
"Fine. Keep your secrets, Seaweed Brain," she finally replied. "And you're right about me not wanting a new weapon, but I'm glad you've been able to arrange this for the rest of the campers. Keep up the good work."
"Aye-aye, Captain Chase," he saluted.