why is writing in first person so awkward

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why is writing in first person so awkward
Have you been thinking about writing something else? Because I would like to read something written by you. Like an orignal story or a fanfiction, both are great so it does not matter, but if you lack the inspiration I would recommend you to think about Jon Connington and Rhaegar Targaryen.
Rhaegar Targaryen is brilliant inspiration, thank you. I am planning a few things and I’ve only just finished college recently, so now I have about 3 months of free time.
Look to the horizon (aka my tumblr hahaha) because I’m going to be posting relatively soon!
(I’ll be looking up Jon Connington, too)
Parchment Notes and Night-Time Duels
Title: Parchment Notes and Night-Time Duels Characters | Pairing: Thomas, Minho, Newt, Gally | Thomas/Newt [Newtmas] Summary: [Thomas had never liked Gally, not even in First Year when they had both been sorted into Slytherin. The boy was a bully and he didn’t like it. So when he comes across Gally harassing a certain Gryffindor, Thomas decides enough is enough and intervenes.] Notes/Warnings: Chapter 1 / 1 [Oneshot] Unbeta’d, a gift for my delightful friend mewsugarpudd. Hogwarts AU
Thomas rounded the corner at speed with Minho hot at his heels, the two nearly slamming straight into a bewildered third year Hufflepuff girl. Thomas dodged out of the girl’s way, throwing a hasty apology over his shoulder, cursing at himself. McGonagall was going to skin them. They were going to be late. They were going to be really, really late. Minho cursed as well as the two ran at the same pace, their bags flying around wildly on their shoulders.
Voices came from ahead and Thomas stopped himself letting out a cry of joy: McGonagall hadn’t let the class in, he and Minho were safe! They rounded the final corner, stopped a short distance from the door and doubled over, clutching their sides and wheezing. Nobody turned and looked at them. Thomas glanced up when he had his breath to see what was so interesting and saw what was unmistakably Gally pushing and shoving a Gryffindor around, yelling at him. Nobody seemed to step forward, unwilling to take the obnoxious Slytherin on – the boy who had a reputation for dirty duelling. The Gryffindor boy shoved Gally back.
“You’re pathetic, Gally.” The boy spat. “You’re not even worth the effort it’d take to hex you, you slinthead.” The boy turned around and strode away from Gally towards the classroom door. Gally glanced at the friends he had gathered around him, his face red with hot rage.
“Pathetic? I’m pathetic?!” He yelled, whipping out his wand and aiming at the boy’s back.
Thomas reacted reflexively. Before he knew it, his own wand was out and pointing at Gally and a hot rage filled Thomas, too. He hated Gally’s dirty tactics.
“Locomotor Mortis!” Thomas yelled the first thing that came into his mind when Gally levelled his wand at the retreating Gryffindor’s back. There was a flash of purple light and Gally toppled forward when the spell struck him, his legs locked together by the spell. He crashed to the floor, his wand skidding out of his reach.
The Gryffindor boy spun around at Thomas’s yell, a surprised look on his face, his wand coming to his hand somewhat slower than Thomas’s. He looked confusedly between the downed Gally and Thomas. Thomas strode forward, sending a curt nod in the boy’s direction. Gally’s friends looked ready to attack him, but they shrank back when Minho - who had a reputation in duelling just as impressive as Gally’s - advanced with Thomas, his wand ready too. Thomas and Minho stopped when they came to Gally’s side, and Minho kicked the boy onto his back, laughing loudly.
“Thomas got you good, slinthead!” Minho yelled and the others around them laughed at Gally who turned an ugly shade of red in embarrassment. “That’s what you get for backshooting, you shuck coward.”
“Maybe in the future you’ll pick fights with people who can actually defend themselves, slinthead.” Thomas spat down at Gally. Gally blushed an even uglier shade of red bordering on purple before he struggled to his feet with the help of his friends. One of them shoved his wand in his hand and Gally flicked it in the direction of his feet, muttering the counter-curse. He glared up at Thomas and Minho, looking as if he was seriously considering attacking.
“Try it, I dare you.” Thomas said. “I’ll get Snape to put you in detention for a week cleaning out flobberworm mucus.” Gally blushed in anger again and raised his wand. Minho stepped forward and pulled out his own wand, pointing it into Gally’s face. Gally seemed to reconsider and shrugged it off, stowing his wand away after a moment. He snarled again before he looked at his friends.
“C’mon boys, these blood traitors aren’t worth it.” Gally sneered before he walked off to the back of the long line outside the classroom. Thomas waited until he had gone out of reach before he turned to face the Gryffindor. Minho kept an eye on Gally behind him.
Thomas was greeted with the sight of Professor McGonagall who had strode out of her classroom after all the loud noises, a furious expression on her face. She glanced once between Thomas, holding his wand and looking flushed with anger, and Minho who had his wand and was snarling at Gally down the line and her nostrils flared.
“Duelling in the corridors?” She asked rhetorically, her nostrils flaring again in anger. Thomas flinched and he and Minho hastily stowed their wands away. “How dare you! And against a member of your own house, too! I expect more from you Thomas, considering you’re a Prefect. Five points from Sly--”
“-- Actually, Professor, they were defending me.” The Gryffindor boy spoke up. Thomas and Minho exchanged a look, the pair of them not believing their luck. McGonagall turned and looked at Newt with a raised eyebrow and waited for him to explain. “Y’see, Gally here was harassing me and I walked away. He took his wand out and tried to hex me from behind so Thomas here stopped him.”
McGonagall looked at Newt for a moment before she glanced at Minho and Thomas, gesturing in the direction of Newt.
“This is the truth?” She asked. Thomas and Minho nodded. The anger seemed to fade from her face and she nodded once. “Then no points will be taken - or awarded.” She added, when she saw Minho’s hopeful face. “Duelling, after all, is prohibited in the corridors. Inside now, all of you.”
*
The lesson proceeded as normal. McGonagall had Gally hand a mouse to each of them and told them all to transform it into a teacup as they had been practicing for the past few lessons. Thomas prodded his mouse with his wand and muttered the incantation and frowned when his mouse only squeaked. Minutes passed and nothing particularly remarkable happened to his mouse.
Minho broke the silence after a minute, exclaiming in joy as he lifted his mouse up in front of Thomas.
“Look at it, Thomas!” He said, almost hitting Thomas in the face with the rodent. The mouse squeaked fearfully. “See?” He pointed to the mouse’s tail. Thomas didn’t see anything.
“What’re you pointing at, Minho?” He asked. Minho sighed in frustration and pointed again at the mouse’s tail.
“It’s shinier than it was before!” Minho said indignantly. Thomas looked closer and found that the tail was a bit shinier than it was and even a bit paler.
“You transfigured its shucking tail into porcelain, you shank.” Thomas said. Minho’s face fell but then he smiled again.
“It’s more than what you’ve done!” Thomas cursed when Minho pointed at Thomas’s own mouse which looked completely as it did before. McGonagall glanced up from her desk and looked at the two of them, her eyes narrowing in anger. They took the hint and stopped arguing, carrying on with their transfiguration work.
Thomas had just raised his wand and was about to attempt to transfigure the mouse once more when a folded aeroplane made of parchment glided down in front of him and landed neatly on his desk. He exchanged a look with Minho. Minho looked pointedly down at the piece of parchment before he prodded his mouse too hard with his wand. The mouse squeaked and scuttled off his desk, running across the classroom and squeaking madly. Minho darted from his desk comically in pursuit of the mouse. The class turned collectively to look at him and watched, laughing, as he chased the mouse around. McGonagall’s nostrils flared as she too watched with increasing irritation.
Thomas, glad for the distraction, tapped the parchment plane with the tip of his wand. The plane unfolded into a neat square of parchment. He glanced at the paper and saw a neat scrawl in one of the corners.
Thank you for stopping that slinthead Gally from hexing me. I didn’t expect anyone to jump in, least of all a Slytherin. No offence.
Thomas glanced at the note before he reached across his desk and grasped his quill, scribbling a quick reply.
It was nothing, and none taken. Nobody likes Gally except his group of brain-dead cranks.
Thomas picked up his wand and tapped the parchment with the tip of his wand again. This time the parchment folded up neatly into a plane. Thomas picked it up and blew gently on it and it took off from his hand, gliding over the heads of the oblivious to the back of the classroom where the Gryffindor boy sat.
McGonagall stood up and had evidently had enough. She gave a curt flick of her wand and the mouse Minho was chasing was lifted into the air and landed gently in her waiting palm. Minho ran over and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, holding his hand out for the mouse, muttering a quick thanks to her.
“Maybe next time you will use your brain rather than your muscles in my lesson. Back to work.” She said with a curt nod in the direction of Minho and Thomas’s desk. Minho grinned before he ran over, clutching the mouse that gave an indignant squeak and sat next to Thomas looking pleased with himself.
“You just embarrassed yourself in front of the entire class for a note saying thanks, you shank.” Thomas hissed out of the corner of his mouth, tapping the mouse in front of him gently with his wand. Minho shrugged.
“Better than giving slinthead Gally something to gossip about, you and that Gryffindor sending little love letters to each other.” Minho replied, setting his mouse back on the desk and taking up his wand again. The mouse squeaked.
Thomas and Minho spun around in their seats as a loud bang filled the room and they heard the scraping of a chair. McGonagall darted up out of her seat and strode over to the source. Thomas and Minho stood and grinned when they saw that one of Gally’s friends had been too busy showing off to a Slytherin girl to notice their mouse preparing a running jump on them. Their grins widened when they saw the mouse hanging off the boy’s finger, its teeth sunk deeply into the skin which was bleeding profusely. McGonagall strode over and with a quick flick of her wand the mouse was back on the desk and the boy was being told to say: “I am a wizard, not an idiot with a stick” over and over.
When Thomas turned back around, he saw that the parchment aeroplane had returned and was busy unfolding itself on the desk. He grabbed the parchment and pulled it to him, looking at the new scrawl under his message.
I’m Newt, by the way. What’s your name?
Thomas pulled his quill towards him once more and dabbed it in the ink before he scribbled a quick reply, knowing that McGonagall would be done lecturing Gally’s friend soon enough.
A pleasure to meet you, Newt. I’m Thomas.
He once again tapped the parchment with the tip of his wand and it folded itself back up into an aeroplane shape before it flew off on its own accord to the back of the classroom. McGonagall returned to her desk then and kept a keen eye on the class, and Thomas knew that there was no chance the Gryffindor – Newt – would risk sending another note with her watching.
The bell rang shortly after and McGonagall dismissed them. Thomas gathered his stuff and shoved it haphazardly into his bag which he slung over his shoulder. He strode out of the classroom with Minho at his side, eager to get to the Great Hall for lunch. He glanced at Newt and shot him a small smile when he passed him before he left the room. Newt too hurried and packed his bags before following them, leaving the note behind on the table. Gally strode past after them but stopped, eyeing up the note before he swiped it from the desk and stuffed it in his pocket.
*
The two exchanges notes for a while after that. Thomas would find a planes and cranes soaring through the air and landing neatly in front of him in the middle of Potions and Transfiguration whenever Snape and McGonagall had their backs turned and even when he was eating in the Great Hall. He’d pass the notes off as reminders when people would ask, and one glance from Minho and they wouldn’t question him.
He learned a lot about the mysterious Gryffindor boy in those weeks. Newt was a half-blood (not that Thomas was concerned with blood purity like a lot of his house) with a younger sister due to start Hogwarts in a few years and a mother and father who worked for the Ministry. He liked Quidditch and preferred playing Seeker than the other positions, and that his father had managed to secure tickets for the Quidditch World Cup the following year.
Minho kept pointing out to Thomas that he’d caught Newt looking at him in corridors and classes, throwing sly glances when he thought they were looking. Thomas never saw it himself: every time he looked Newt was either looking in a completely different direction or he had his head buried in a book. He was surprised the boy wasn’t in Ravenclaw with how often he saw the boy’s blond locks hidden behind a dusty leather cover of a book. The two of them also kept a wary eye out for a vengeful Gally, but Thomas figured as long as he had the advantage of numbers – and Minho – that Gally wouldn’t try anything.
The notes stopped for a while then, and Thomas wondered if he’d said something that had offended the Gryffindor boy. Whenever he turned around to look, the boy would always be busy working or reading a book in front of him or even chatting to his fellow Gryffindors. Thomas shook his head and tried to focus on his own work, but he had a nagging feeling he’d upset the boy.
Then, one day in the Great Hall when Thomas and Minho were eating breakfast, a parchment crane flapped onto the table and landed smoothly in front of him. Thomas looked at Minho and Minho rolled his eyes. Gally looked up from down the table and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“Well go on then, shank.” Minho said, eagerly savaging a piece of toast. “It might be another letter from lover boy.” Thomas rolled his eyes and prodded the crane with the tip of his wand.
The crane unfolded in front of him and Thomas picked up the piece of paper, reading the familiar neat scrawl in the corner.
Meet me in the Trophy Room at 11pm tonight.
Thomas frowned and furrowed his brows. Minho looked up from his ravaged piece of toast and cereal and glanced at the note, chewing loudly.
“Wonder what he wants?” Thomas thought aloud as he scribbled a quick reply. Sure, see you then. Minho choked down a bite of toast. Thomas tapped the parchment with his wand once more and it folded back up into a crane and flapped off. Thomas turned to Minho immediately after.
“Dunno,” Minho managed to choke out with toast still in his mouth, threatening to spill out, “A private little chat with nobody else? I didn’t think the shank was the romantic type.”
Thomas flinched away from Minho and his mouth full of food.
“Slim it when you’re eating Minho, that’s disgusting.” He said. Minho grinned then, a big mistake as cereal dribbled out from between his teeth. Thomas gagged and turned away while Minho swallowed and laughed.
*
Thomas left the common room at 10:30 that night in his pyjamas and school cloak, his wand stowed in his pocket, leaving Minho in one of the comfy green armchairs by the fire. He made his way to the Trophy Room quickly but quietly, knowing that if he got caught detention would be the least of his worries what with being a Prefect. He paused when he arrived at the door of the Trophy Room and tapped it with his wand.
“Homenum Revelio.” He muttered. Nothing happened. Thomas frowned and then pulled the door open quietly, stepping into the room. He made his way fairly quickly down the staircase before he stood in the centre of the room, shiny trophies adorning every wall and every surface, with shields scattered among them.
He spent some time looking at the various trophies and awards lining the walls while he waited. He wasn’t waiting long until he hears a set of footsteps coming down the stairs behind him. He turned, ready to greet Newt but saw Gally instead. Thomas blinked in surprise and then saw that Gally had his wand out, pointed straight at Thomas’s face. Thomas reflexively moved his hand towards his pocket to pull out his own wand.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Gally said. “I’ll hex you before you even get it out.”
Thomas cursed. Gally was right - he’d hex him before he could get his wand out for certain. He cursed his luck. If Minho had been here, he wouldn’t have this problem. How had Gally known he was coming here? As if reading his mind, Gally answered.
“I sent the note, slinthead.” He said, his wand still raised. “I took that note he sent you in Transfiguration when you cursed me, didn’t take much to copy his handwriting.”
“So, what? You lure me here to hex me? You really are pathetic.” Thomas spat, his hand moving painfully slowly towards his pocket, trying not to let Gally know what he was doing. If he could just keep him talking…
“What, you expect me to fight fair when you have that shank Minho at your side 24/7? No thanks.” Gally laughed. “It’s about damn time I got payback after that little stunt you pulled outside McGonagall’s classroom.”
Thomas grinned. “You fell on your ass pretty damn hard. I knew you were brain dead but Christ Gally, did you hit your head too?” He laughed and Gally twitched, tightening his grip on his wand.
“Enough!” He yelled viciously, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “Minho isn’t here to protect you any more, I’m going to enjoy this.”
Gally raised his wand then. He opened his mouth but was cut off before he could so much as utter a syllable when something large, heavy and metallic slammed into the side of his head. Gally was knocked sideways and onto a row of heavy silver trophies which clamoured noisily when hit them, and lay motionless, his wand flung from his hand and onto the floor several feet away.
“Shuck, that was bloody louder than I expected!” Thomas turned to look at the staircase leading up and was surprised to see Newt standing there, his wand raised and pointing at Gally, a scrunched up parchment note held in his free hand. He glanced from Gally’s unconscious form to Thomas and raised an eyebrow when Thomas laughed. “I take it you didn’t write this bloody note then?”
Thomas shook his head. “Gally did, by the looks of it. Tried to lure us here one by one to hex us, the slinthead.”
Newt inclined his head. “Sounds like Gally, the sly shank.”
The two froze as a creak came from overhead and they glance up at the ceiling before they exchanged a fearful look. Someone had definitely heard the crash of the trophies. Newt glanced at the ceiling again.
“That definitely didn’t go unnoticed.” He said, flicking his wand in the direction of Gally. Thomas nodded in agreement. Newt half turned and gestured to the stairs. “Shall we?” Thomas nodded again before he followed. They paused at the top of the staircase and Newt flicked his wand, extinguishing the orb of light before they headed out.
They wandered the corridors for a while, getting lost pretty quickly. Newt cursed suddenly, surprising Thomas. Six years he’d been going to this school and he was still getting lost. It was a bloody maze at night.
Suddenly a figure carrying a lantern emerged from around a corner ahead of them. Thomas reflexively grabbed Newt’s hand and yanked him, pulling the two of them behind a statue. They stood pressed together with baited breath as the figure of Filch hurried past them, wheezing and muttering to himself about students out of bed, Mrs Norris hot at his heels, heading in the direction of the Trophy Room. It was then that Thomas became painfully aware of exactly how close he was to the Gryffindor boy, and the latter seemed to appreciate the proximity too, if the red blush filling his face was any indication. Thomas took a risk then and leaned forward, a teasing smirk on his face.
“What’s the matter, Newt? You’re a bit red.” He said, grinning when Newt blushed even more.
“Slim it!” The other boy muttered defensively, trying to push Thomas away. Thomas decided then to test his theory and leaned in, whispering into the boy’s ear.
“Been looking at me in class and the corridors have you?” Thomas asked, a playful smile on his face. Newt looked like a mortified tomato, red and defensive and shocked. He cursed again.
“How’d you know?” He asked with wide eyes.
“Well, for one, you just confirmed it.” Newt snarled and muttered something that sounded like, ‘Bloody Slytherins and their tricks.’ Thomas grinned. “That and Minho saw you doing it.”
Newt cursed and tried to push past Thomas, but Thomas grinned and pushed him against the statue again, grinning like a predator who had its prey trapped. Newt’s eyes flicked from Thomas’s eyes to his lips.
“You’ve gone even redder.” Thomas said. “That’s interesting.”
Newt snarled again before he reached up and grabbed Thomas by the collar, yanking him down and crashing his lips against Thomas’s own. The Slytherin blinked in surprise for a moment before he hungrily returned the kiss, pressing the small Gryffindor against the statue.
They separated desperately breathless when they heard loud footsteps approaching and looked fearfully at each other, their faces blotched red. They waited in silence until Filch hurried past them again, accompanied by a sore-looking, bruised but fully conscious Gally and a sour-looking, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Snape.
“It wasn’t me!” Gally protested angrily. “It was Thomas! That shank attacked me!”
“Be silent.” Snape said, his voice deceptively calm and cold. Thomas and Newt risked a smirk at each other. “You were found alone in the Trophy Room surrounded by several damaged and irreplaceable trophies.”
“But it wasn’t me, Professo—!” Gally started.
“—You are already facing detention with Mr Filch for an evening. Do not make me extend it to a week.” Snape said, cutting Gally off with a cold look. Thomas grinned again. He knew Snape would believe him over Gally. Thomas’s reputation was entirely unblemished and untarnished, whereas Gally was the first suspect for anything.
The two waited until the voices had long since faded before they stepped out from behind the statue, the redness fading from their faces but the smirks still present. Newt glanced at the statue and a look of recognition crossed his face.
“I know this statue,” he said, “I can make my own way back from here.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to accompany you?” Thomas teased, his grin widening.
“Don’t push your luck, shank.” Newt said before he leaned forward and kissed Thomas once more: a quick, innocent kiss. “G’night, Thomas.”
Newt turned and hurried away them. Thomas watched him go before he called after him.
“See you first thing tomorrow in Transfiguration!” He yelled and then flinched. If Snape found him he’d definitely be doing detention with Gally. Even from the distance he was at, he could see the redness filling Newt’s skin. Thomas risked a laugh before he too turned and hurried off in what he hoped was the general direction of the dungeons and his common room.
*
He found his way and after a short while he was ducking through into his common room, finding an anxious-looking Minho waiting for him.
“Where the shuck have you been?!” Minho asked, prodding Thomas in the chest with a finger. “It’s been well over an hour!”
Thomas grinned sheepishly and Minho narrowed his eyes. Thomas raised his hands in surrender before he dived into his tale, telling Minho how it had been Gally who sent the note and Newt who had rescued him. He left out the parts after.
“So Snape got Gally?” Minho asked. Thomas nodded. “Good. That slinthead deserves it. Just one question though.”
“What?” Thomas asked, raising an eyebrow.
“When were you going to tell me the two of you kissed?” Minho blurted out and Thomas choked, the smile wiped cleanly off his face. How had Minho known? “Oh come off it you shank, you expect me to believe nothing else happened? I might be a bit stupid sometimes but I’m no troll.”
Thomas blushed and stood up, choosing to ignore Minho. He yawned widely then and headed towards his dormitory and his four poster bed waiting for him.
“Is a certain Gryffindor going to be sitting with us in Potions and Transfiguration now?” Minho called after him with glee in his voice.
“Slim it, Minho!” Thomas yelled back at him.
The OTW, the non-profit that runs the Archive of Our Own, has a murky future
Following a controversy around its most recent board election, the non-profit group that runs the fanfiction hub Archive Of Our Own (AO3) announced on Sunday its entire board had resigned.
Now the leadership of the Organization for Transformative Works is up in the air.
Andrea Horbinski, a current member of the seven-member board, was up for re-election to two open board seats, but she came in last in the members election. The membership, made up of roughly 8,000 fans who paid a $10 membership fee, voted for Matty Bowers, Atiya Hakeem, Alex Tischer, Katarina Harju, Aline Carrão, and Horbinski in that order.
During a public board meeting on Sunday, the OTW board appointed Horbinski back onto the board to fill an unfinished term on a third open seat not included in the election. Horbinski voted in favor of the motion to re-appoint herself to the open seat, rather than abstaining from the vote. The board meeting came to an abrupt halt after several OTW members voiced their opposition to the decision, pointing out that other candidates got more votes than Horbinski in the election.
[READ MORE]
This is kinda a mess, but considering a lot of people regularly give over 500K twice a year to the organization, I think it’s important to pay attention. OTW effects not just people with an AO3 account.
@fangirlandiknowit101, @kizukatana, @prince-puri, @uchihanochidori, @offansandflames keep an eye on it and save your stuff locally, please
@nee-saan, @cinnamonrollwannabe, @maybeillride-changemylife, @daxii
Plz save yo shit.
@liazim @kuramisawa @southpaws-catcher @starrwinter @daiyafordayz @redeyessharplies @avianlacie save your things please
@daiyascenes and for EVERYONE SAVE YOUR BEAUTIFUL WRITINGS
TO EVERYONE WHO WRITES ON AO3:
PLS SAVE EVERYTHING
@cinnamonskull @ryuusea :(!
@kiokushitaka @foreverautumnblog @sciencefictioness @fearthekeira @bfketh @erengayer Please save your works, we can never know what might happen q~q this goes to all the other writers on AO3 too
oh shit, thanks for tagging me. reblogging for all my writer pals. this is worrisome. i do have docs saved of all my work though and i’m working on backing them up on google.
@aureateparalian @ancestors-lullaby omf please save your works they are too wonderful
WELL FUCK
What. The. Hell.
After Dec. 15, only the two board-elect members, Bowers and Hakeem, will remain on the board. Bowers responded to the board’s resignation in a Tumblr post,
A few things quickly: We will have a Board come Dec. 15th. Atiya and I are currently discussing what happens next. AO3 is not going anywhere. Neither is the OTW. It says Ao3 won’t be going anywhere, but it is never a bad idea to back up your writing anyway.
I can’t imagine not having my stuff backed up, and I have back ups of my backups on flash drives. Just because I’ve had computer failure and I’m paranoid as hell.
Thank you for this.
What’s life when you want to be a prolific writer but college is also a thing
Duty and Love
Title: Duty and Love Characters | Pairing: Jason Grace, Percy Jackson, Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano | Jason/Percy [Jercy] Summary: [Jason had watched as a little boy as his father was sent by the Emperor to inspect cities throughout the Empire. He knew one day he would grow up and take his father's place, he just never expected he would find love at the same time, least of all in a childhood friend of his: an enigmatic boy with black hair, sea-green eyes and a mischievous, cheeky smirk.] Notes/Warnings: Chapter 1 / 1 [Oneshot] Beta’d by my delightful friend mewsugarpudd. Latin terminology is used. Glossary is at the bottom. Mild sexual references. An occasional euphemism/implied action. Ancient Rome AU.
Their procession halted at the outskirts of the bright and thriving city, coming to an efficient stop before the gates. A man stood there flanked by guards and a group of official-looking men, waiting for them patiently with the sun on his back, obscuring him from Jason’s sight. Jason himself stood at a reasonably average height with a strong build for a boy of only 14 years, with a gladius strapped securely to his waist, though he was dwarfed by his father’s impressive height and even more impressive build.
His father strode ahead from Jason’s side and hailed the man ahead of them, leading the procession into the city. The man raised his arm in response and walked forward to greet his father. Both of them saluted before they shook hands and began talking. Jason let his mind wander and admired the city around him. He had never visited this strange, buzzing and positively alive city before – his father had always left him with his mother at home in the capital. He admired how quiet it seemed in comparison to Roma, though still buzzing feverishly as civilians went about their business in the bustling marketplaces.
Jason snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed his father gesturing for him to come forward and obeyed, standing at his father’s side. His father gestured again to the man in front of him with a smile on his bearded face.
“Jason, this man is Castellan. He is the governor of this city and will be my aide while I conduct my inspection.” Jason nodded and then his father gestured to him. “Castellan, this is my son, Jason.” The man called Castellan surveyed him intently, looking at him from head to toe with interest. Jason bowed in respect to the man as his father had taught him.
“Ave, Propraetor.” Jason said, inclining his head to Castellan who responded in turn. Now that he was closer and the sun no longer in his eyes, Jason saw Castellan’s features in sharp relief and he was surprised to see that the man looked little older than he was, though if he had heard correctly from his father during their travels, the man was approaching his thirtieth year. Jason also noted, with some surprise, a lack of stress lines on the man’s face. “As my father said, my name is Jason Grace, though if it pleases you, you can address me as Jason only.”
“Ave, Jason. My name is Luke Castellan and you can address me as Castellan or,” Castellan smiled now approvingly and even a little proudly, revealing perfectly white teeth. “As you did before, Propraetor.”
Jason nodded. From the corner of his eye he caught another rare look of approval from his father before his father stepped forward and took charge of the conversation. Castellan and his father broke into a leisurely walk and Jason fell in step behind them, knowing that he had fulfilled his role so far. Castellan treated them to a tour of the city and its fortifications. His father inspected the city guard - the Vigiles Urbani - and was evidently satisfied with them if the approving smile on his face was any indication.
Castellan and his congregation then led them through the bustling marketplace where Jason looked from corner to corner, looking from trinkets on display to stalls bursting with food and a lavish selection of wines of all colours and flavours. He distinctly heard someone shouting but was only brought out of his attention on the stalls when he was knocked off balance when something small and fast slammed into him.
He glanced down at the cause of the disturbance, realising it was a boy somewhat younger than him with messy black hair who had ran into him. The boy looked up fearfully before another shout caught Jason’s attention. The boy remained where he was on the floor, frozen in fear. The shout went up again and Jason heard the words this time - a mixture of profanity and slurs he now realised were directed at the boy. The source of the shouts hurtled around the corner and stopped ahead of them, having spotted the boy: a towering girl younger than Jason with hair bearing a striking resemblance to the colour of mud. She advanced forward towards Jason and the boy and stopped only when one of his father’s guards stepped forward with their hand on their gladius, a calculating gleam in her eyes as if she were considering how to both get to the boy at Jason’s feet and get away with it. She backed off and the gleam in her eyes faded when she noticed Castellan and her face paled, her stance shifting to submissive and her tone apologetic.
“Forgive me, Propraetor.” She hastily muttered. Jason was entirely convinced she was only sorry for being caught. Castellan waved his hand dismissively though there was a glint of steel in his eyes, a warning to the girl.
“Vado, La Rue.” Castellan flicked his hand dismissively again. “Leave this child be, or you’ll be cleaning the city for a week.”
The girl flinched but dared not challenge Castellan’s authority and so shrank back before she disappeared around the corner once more. They then turned to the boy at Jason’s feet who still bore a fearful expression. Jason lowered himself to one knee and extended his hand to the boy who flinched and looked from Jason’s hand to his face as if expecting a trap. When Jason smiled the boy took his hand and Jason helped him to his feet, brushing dust from the boy’s tunic.
“Thank you, sir.” the boy muttered, his eyes on the floor, daring not to look up. A look of recognition lit up in Castellan’s eyes when the boy spoke and he seemed to reprimand himself for forgetting a name.
“Perseus, is it?” Castellan inquired and the boy nodded quickly. Castellan seemed satisfied with the boy’s answer before he exchanged a look with Jason’s father. “If I may, I think it would be a good idea for your son to explore the city in greater depth while we proceed to business; I have heard tell of how efficient you are.” His father nodded.
“As you say, Castellan. Ramirez-Arellano,” His father began. One of the guards behind Jason - a girl older than him that he was friendly with and who was responsible for training him to be a swordsman, clad in full armour with a gladius at her waist - stiffened up with her back straight. “You will accompany my son as an escort. Try to keep him in one piece.”
“Ita domine.” The girl replied. Jason turned his attention from his father and Castellan back to the boy and smiled again.
“Ave, Perseus. I am Jason.” The boy returned his smile and nodded, relaxing when Jason’s tone became more casual. Castellan, his father and their congregation departed to finish the tour of the city, leaving Jason, his escort and the boy alone. “Could I ask why that girl was harassing you?” The boy shrugged.
“She always is. She says I’m not a true Roman.” Perseus said, a sad look in his eyes that changed quickly to defiance.
“I’d say you’re more Roman than she is.” Jason began kindly, his smile still present. Perseus looked at him curiously. Jason assessed the boy’s stance and body and nodded. “You have what she lacks - the makings of a soldier.” The boy’s eyes shone with happiness at the compliment and Jason wondered just how often the girl - La Rue - confronted him.
“You think so?” Perseus asked, a grin on his face. Jason nodded and rested a hand on Perseus’s shoulder.
“Of course. It’s my job to know these things.” Or rather it would be in a few years, Jason privately thought to himself.
“Would you be kind enough to show me and Reyna here,” Jason indicated his escort to Perseus, “Around the city Perseus?”
“Call me Percy,” He replied. “And of course.” Percy took Jason’s hand and led him eagerly through the marketplace. Reyna fell into step behind him, her palm resting on the pommel of her gladius constantly. He showed Jason and Reyna a variety of stalls he was evidently familiar with, food stalls, jewellery stalls and even a wine stall whose merchant Percy was friendly with. Jason took each opportunity to speak to the people, inquiring about how business was, how they were faring and what they thought about the city. He was surprised when he heard few, if any, complaints from them - usually there was at least one complaint to be made about a city.
Jason also questioned Percy. The younger boy told him his father, nicknamed Neptunus by his colleagues, was a busy man and had served the Empire as a legionnaire. Jason learned that this ‘Neptunus’ was tasked with managing a century of the Vigiles Urbani that Jason’s own father had just inspected, and that he was training Percy to follow in his place as a legionnaire. Jason was both impressed and pleased - impressed that the boy already dreamed of serving the Empire and pleased with himself that he had assessed the boy’s stance and body accurately. He also, as they were walking through one of the broader, busier streets, that the attacks from the La Rue girl were frequent - if they didn’t happen at least once every other day, then Percy counted himself lucky. Percy led them up a hill just outside the city, a place where they had agreed to rest a while, muttering something about not being confident enough to stand up to her: his father had been training him but La Rue’s father was a hardened war veteran who had trained her to hold a sword before she could even walk, or so the rumour went. Jason shook his head and turned to Reyna.
“Your gladius please, Reyna.” She obliged, unsheathing it and placing the hilt in his waiting hand. Jason then turned back to Percy and smirked, circling the boy. Percy blinked and shifted nervously as Jason walked around him. “Show me your stance, Percy.” Percy obliged, entering his stance. Jason examined the boy’s posture, tapping the inside of Percy’s leg with the tip of Reyna’s gladius. “Wider. Shoulder width apart.”
Percy obliged once more and widened his stance. Jason then pressed the tip of the sword into the back of Percy’s knee gently. Percy bent his knees forward as Jason instructed and sat into his stance when Jason tapped him on the top of his shoulder while Reyna looked on approvingly. Jason then placed the hilt of Reyna’s gladius in Percy’s hand, adjusting the boy’s grip and the positioning of the blade.
“Good footwork,” She commented. “Now your stance is stronger, it won’t be easy to overwhelm you.”
Jason nodded in agreement before he unsheathed his own gladius in one fluid movement and suddenly slashed at Percy, who reflexively parried it with his own sword before he lunged forward. Jason batted his blade aside effortlessly and smirked, lowering his gladius.
“See?” said Jason after a moment, a proud smirk on his face. “Reflex can only save you so many times. A strong stance can overcome any attack. Well,” He glanced in Reyna’s direction. “Almost any attack.”
Jason tossed his gladius to Reyna and took a step back. Reyna caught the gladius and twirled it around, adjusting her grip. Jason sat down a distance away from the two.
“Now try out your new stance against Reyna.” Jason said with a mischievous grin. Percy blinked in surprise and looked from Jason to Reyna, who had already dropped into her own stance with her gladius raised. The boy shook his head and focused on Reyna, his sword in the stance Jason had shown him.
Reyna attacked first, feigning first to the left before switching and slashing at Percy’s right. Percy saw through the feint, to Jason’s surprise, and parried it swiftly, knocking her blade aside and driving his own blade forward towards her chest. Reyna span around, pivoting on her heel, and deflected Percy’s gladius effortlessly with her own, knocking the blade clean out of his hand with the force of the blow. She placed the tip of her sword at his throat and Percy dropped to one knee. Reyna sheathed her gladius and pulled the boy to his feet. Jason smiled.
“Not quite there yet.” He laughed and Percy shrugged embarrassedly. “But then again, Reyna learned to use a sword before she could walk, so it’s no major defeat.”
“Practice makes perfect.” Reyna interjected. Jason nodded in agreement and pointed at her gladius. Reyna obeyed and unsheathed it and handed it to Jason in a single movement. Jason looked at Percy expectantly and the boy dropped into his guard position. Reyna folded her arms and watched.
“Watch my swing, Percy.” Jason said, raising his gladius. Percy obeyed and kept his eyes intently on Jason’s blade. He slowed down his movements to allow the boy to follow him when he guided his gladius down in a slow slash. “Do you see the way my wrist moves when I use this sort of attack?” Percy nodded. “Good.” Reyna strode forward and pointed at a section of Jason’s blade, right near the tip. “Strike there as hard as you can and you’ll knock my blade aside and stagger me, maybe even disarm me. That’s what Reyna did to you.”
Percy obeyed and imitated Reyna’s earlier movements, pirouetting on his heel and thrusting his sword against Jason’s, knocking the slash brutally aside. Jason smiled approvingly while he fixed his grip on his gladius.
“It’s crucial when you’re getting attacked to identify someone’s weak points and use them against them.” Percy nodded, understanding. “Attack me without your sword.” The boy raised an eyebrow and hesitated. Jason discarded his gladius and so did Percy after a moment.
Jason beckoned him to start and Percy complied, throwing a punch at him. Jason sidestepped the punch and stepped in to Percy’s space, sliding his foot behind one of Percy’s and pushing on the boy’s chest. Percy’s balance and stance broke and he fell, though Jason caught him before he hit the floor.
“The next time that La Rue attacks you, just see where she’s weakest. If she throws a punch at you or kicks you, knock her down and keep her there.” He said. Percy smiled approvingly when Jason pulled him back to his feet and patted his clothing down, freeing it of dust and dirt. “Now, I’d say that’s enough of combat training for a future warrior for one day.” A disappointed expression crossed Percy’s face fleetingly, disappearing when Jason ruffled his hair affectionately. Despite only knowing the boy for a few hours, he had really taken a liking to him, and the same was true in reverse.
“So, Percy, what do you do for fun in this city?” He asked, sheathing his gladius and handing Reyna hers.
*
The memory faded as quickly as it had come to him as he looked out at the nearing city. Even from this distance, he could see the familiar outline of Castellan and his aides waiting to greet him at the city entrance. He raised his arm, much as his father had done, and hailed him, striding out to meet him with his guards - and Reyna - following behind him. He saluted the man as his father had once done.
“Ave, Castellan.” He began, a friendly and warm smile gracing his features. The man looked exactly as Jason remembered him, as though time itself had stood still for the man, even though very nearly a decade had passed. “I see the years have treated you well.” Castellan nodded appreciatively.
“A blessing from the Gods, no doubt.” He saluted Jason in return with a smile. “Though, if I may, it seems the years have treated you far fairer than I.” Castellan gestured to Jason. “The boy that once stood before me is gone, replaced instead by a man. Your father must be proud.” Jason blushed and grinned.
“You are too kind.” Jason reached inside his robe and brought out a sealed scroll and handed it to Castellan. “I have been instructed to inspect the city to ensure it is prepared for Vulcanalia. I should be finished within a fortnight, Castellan, and I hope to begin immediately.”
“You are truly your father’s son - straight to business, just like him.” Castellan nodded in thought for a moment before he swept his arms towards the city and gestured Jason to walk with him, guiding him in. “It has been a while since you last visited, my friend, but nothing has changed. The layout of the city is still the same as it once was, with a few new additions to house the growing population.”
Jason nodded and allowed his mind to wander as Castellan navigated them through the bustling city. He recalled the various stalls the boy called Perseus had once shown him and made a mental note to visit the marketplace at one point to see if anything had changed.
“Is the boy called Perseus still in the city?” He asked. Castellan considered it for a moment then replied with a nod.
“Yes, I believe he is. You may recall his father commanded the Vigiles Urbani - he now manages our busy port. I believe his son is one of the senior harbour guards.”
Jason inclined his head at that and continued following Castellan. The blond-haired man led him to the city’s main government building and guided him straight to the archives. He left him then, telling him that if he required any help to send for him and he would be there as soon as possible. Jason nodded absentmindedly as he took in the grand scale of the city archives, wondering how his father possibly managed to compile a report on this sheer size so quickly. He shook his head to dismiss the daunting thought and sat down at the nearest desk, pulling the nearest scroll to him.
*
He lost count of just how many scrolls he studied and just how many figures he noted down. He took note of anything and everything, from the total population of the city to the amount of livestock and the city’s annual crop yield. He rolled up the scroll he had been writing on and secured it before he placed it inside his robes. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that his guards were waiting patiently nearby. Reyna, he noticed, was resting her palm over the pommel of her gladius and Jason smiled, recalling how he had never seen her without her sword in gripping distance. He raised his arm and called one of the men Castellan had left with him over to him. The man practically ran forward and bowed hastily when he reached Jason’s desk.
“I’m going for a walk. Tell Castellan not to worry about my disappearance.” The man nodded and Jason paused for a moment, his father’s advice coming back to him: be complimentary and charismatic and the men will do whatever you ask. He added after a moment of thought, “And also tell him that I’ve began my report and I’m very impressed with what I’ve seen so far.” The man nodded once more and waited for Jason to add anything else on. Jason flicked his hand dismissively and the man bowed again before scurrying out of the room.
He stood up and straightened his robes, combing a hand through his hair and massaging his temples to ward off an oncoming headache. Reyna stood waiting for him and he strode to her and the two left the archive, heading back out into the bustling city. Jason glanced at the sky - a decision he regretted an instant later when the sun glared down at him - and gathered that it was around midday already. He sighted contentedly when a sea breeze wafted over him and Reyna, carrying with it the smell of salt. He turned to look at Reyna and raised an eyebrow.
“We never did see the port in all of our visits here, did we?” Reyna shook her head, her hand, as always, resting on the pommel of her gladius. “Let’s change that then.” She nodded and Jason led the way through the busy city. They passed through the marketplace and the fond memories of the sights and smells he had once experienced here flocked back to him stronger than ever before; the marketplace was exactly as he remembered it, with a few new additional scents of fruit and berries that no doubt belonged to some of the city’s exquisite wine. They didn’t stop to look, however, and Jason pressed on towards the port.
They stopped with a satisfied sigh when they first caught sight of the dock and the boats there. The sea was lapping gently against the stone walls and the moored ships rocked gently. From a distance, Jason could see approaching ships. He glanced in each direction of the dock and caught sight of the man that was no doubt in charge - lightly clad in leather armour and with a gladius at his waist, the man stopped occasionally at each moored ship and seemed to scrutinise it carefully, even running his hand along the wood to check for dents and holes. Jason walked towards him and, as the man got closer, his rank became apparent. The way the port authorities gathered around him, the man was undoubtedly the harbourmaster Castellan had been referring to earlier. A boy that was undoubtedly the man’s son stood at his side, similarly clad in light leather armour with an old, tarnished gladius at his waist. The boy’s sharp, angular, high cheekbones that accentuated his sea green eyes and black hair perfectly seemed almost familiar to him. He shook the thought from his head when he noticed the harbourmaster approaching. The man nodded his head respectfully and saluted.
“I was not aware you had arrived, Domine.” The man said. Jason returned his salute. “I must say I am surprised to see you at the docks so soon after arriving, though. I am the harbourmaster here. Feel free to call me Neptunus, everybody else does.”
“A fitting name, I think. It was only a matter of time until I visited the docks, I never had the chance when I visited with my father all those years ago.” Jason replied after a moment’s glance at the boy standing next to the man. “How has the port fared these past months, Neptunus?”
Neptunus regaled him with tales of how quiet the port had been in terms of unlicensed trade and smuggling. Jason’s mind wandered to the boy next to Neptunus and caught only snippets of what Neptunus was saying - a few smugglers here and there, a scuffle or two a month - and he found himself increasingly distracted by the black-haired boy. He seemed to be purposely avoiding his eye, instead looking intently at a group of merchants crowding the nearby marketplace and glancing at the people passing them. He remained silent while his father talked, and Jason was reminded of himself years ago: he, too, had spoken only when spoken to and had listened to and obeyed his father completely. Jason was brought out of his reminiscing when he noticed Neptunus looking at him intently, waiting for a reply.
“I’m pleased to hear you have had little trouble, Neptunus.” Jason hastily replied. “You are doing an admirable job and I will be sure to make mention of it in my report.”
Neptunus nodded, pleased, and looked ready to speak again when a shout rose up. They turned as one to the source and from a distance spotted a merchant scuffling with a group of guards. Neptunus heaved a weary sigh and saluted once more to Jason who returned it automatically.
“Forgive me, but duty calls. My son will be your guide in my stead.” Jason nodded and Neptunus strode off, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword and a fierce look in his eyes. Jason turned to face the boy, pausing when he heard Neptunus’s powerful voice ringing over the dock, commanding the merchant to stop, and noticed that - at last - the boy was finally looking at him. Time seemed to rewind before Jason’s eyes and he was transported back to a grassy hilltop with a smaller boy with the same jet black hair and sea green eyes standing in front of him, gripping a gladius clumsily. He blinked the image away and smiled.
“What happened to the little boy I once knew that couldn’t hold a sword to save his life?” He teased, cracking a smile. Even Reyna grinned behind him. “It’s good to see you again, Perseus.”
“It seems my friend has grown up and made himself all important.” Perseus countered, folding his arms and returning the smile. “I’d heard an inspector had been dispatched to the city but I didn’t dare think it would be the same family after all this time.”
“My father now works for the Senate. Somebody had to do his job.” Jason shrugged and began walking. Percy took the lead after a second and guided them towards the marketplace. Reyna followed silently behind, her hand on her sword as always, her hawk-like eyes sweeping the area for any potential threats.
“The man next to me is a stranger.” Percy thought aloud. “Your activities of choice used to be sparring and roughhousing, not talking and inspecting. What happened to wanting to join the exercitus Romanus?”
“How poetic.” Jason laughed. “I do still intend to join up, but my father said I should see the empire I plan on defending with my life first.” He glanced up at the sky, then, and noticed how low the sun was and frowned. Had the day really gone by so quickly? “Not enough time in the day it seems. I’ve got a pile of scrolls waiting for me. Would you care to come back with me so we can talk more and reminisce?”
“I would,” Percy hesitantly began. “But my father i--”
“Our friend here will handle it.” Jason said, indicating Reyna with a smooth gesture. Reyna frowned and looked ready to complain but Jason silenced her when he pointed at the gladius at Percy’s waist. “I’ll be fine, Reyna.” Reyna nodded and, reluctantly but obediently, walked off.
Jason took the lead then and quickly located one of Castellan’s men when he approached the main city buildings. The man guided them to Jason’s allocated quarters and bowed, leaving them. Jason paused and allowed Percy to enter first, wanting to see the boy’s face when he saw the interior. Jason had already seen the furnishings his father’s rooms had had, he imagined he’d have an identical room.
Percy opened the door and Jason couldn’t help but grin when the boy’s mouth dropped open. He watched as the younger boy took in the rich furnishings of the room, the elegant furniture and the beautiful tapestry adorning the walls. Percy was clearly unused to the sheer amount of luxuries in one location. He watched the subsequent facial expressions with a hint of amusement before he himself strode in and gestured to the bed and the chairs.
“Make yourself comfortable. We may be here a while.” Jason noticed a pitcher of wine was waiting on his desk with a set of goblets. He poured two out and handed one to Percy. The boy raised an eyebrow but accepted it. “Seeing as you’re a man now, I feel no guilt whatsoever in offering you wine.”
Jason turned back to his desk and pulled the scrolls spread out there towards him. He noticed that Castellan had taken the liberty of having the scrolls he had looked at in the archives delivered to his room and made a mental note to thank him. He took a sip of the wine while Percy settled himself on the bed and blinked in surprise: a rich, flavourful mixture of berries and fruit that complemented each other perfectly exploded over his taste buds, leaving a fruity, teasing aftertaste behind that only made him crave more. Percy’s reaction was identical and the two shared a grin.
“It seems the city lives up to its reputation as the finest winemakers in the empire.” Jason said admiringly while swirling the contents of his goblet around. “I can see why Roma imports this wine so heavily now.”
“What’s the capital like?” Percy interjected, taking a light sip from his goblet. Jason glanced over with a raised eyebrow and a fleeting expression of surprise on his face.
“You mean you haven’t seen it?” He asked. Percy shook his head. “One day I will take you with me and show you everything Roma has to offer. It’s beautiful, Percy.” He paused and took a sip from his drink before he changed the topic. “Do you plan on enlisting, Perseus? The boy I remember seemed to enjoy sparring as much as I did, among other things.” Percy raised an eyebrow at the use of his full name and blushed the same shade of red as his wine.
“In a year, yes.” He said after taking a moment to compose himself, a smile gracing his face. “The Classis, that is. Something about the sea just seems to appeal to me.” Jason now raised an eyebrow.
“An unusual choice. Most prefer the exercitus.” He shrugged after a moment. “I wish you luck with your choice.”
He continued searching through the records Castellan had provided him with, chatting the time away with Percy until the sun had long since set and their wine had long been drank. Percy began to stand - swaying slightly from the wine - and stretched.
“Thank you for the wine, Jason, but I have to go.” Percy blinked a few times, evidently trying to focus his eyesight. “My father will be expecting me by now.”
“You could stay here,” Jason protested. “I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind, knowing you’re helping me.” Percy smiled.
“A kind offer, and perhaps one night I will accept, but for now I will leave you in peace.” He raised a hand in farewell and Jason nodded, not pressing on further. Percy excused himself with another nod and a wave and then he was gone. Jason gestured to Reyna - who was waiting patiently outside his door as his guard - and she nodded, following Percy to make sure he got home safely. He spent another hour or so perusing the documents and making notes before he too, finally and wearily, turned in.
*
He woke to a violent shaking - everything was clattering around wildly and violently. His scrolls rolled from the desk and fell. The empty pitcher of wine rolled over and smashed on the ground. Jason jumped out of bed, but by the time he had gathered his wits and dressed, all had gone silent. The shaking had stopped as suddenly as it had started. He hastily washed with the basin provided and fixed his attire before moving over to his door and throwing it open. Reyna was already waiting for him, an alarmed look on her face, clad already in full armour and with her hand resting firmly on her sword. He was surprised to find Percy already awake and standing next to her, looking surprisingly relaxed and unalarmed compared to the two of them. He raised an eyebrow before he turned to face Reyna.
“Fetch Castellan immediately.” He ordered, combing a hand worriedly through his hair. “This event cannot go unexplained.” Reyna inclined her head.
“Ita, domine.” She replied, saluting before she stalked off down the corridor and out of sight. Jason turned to Percy, his heart still racing from the shaking, and gestured him nervously into the room. Percy strode in and sat on one of the chairs next to the desk and watched Jason with a hint of amusement. Jason paced the room for a moment, stopping only to gather the scrolls that had fallen and sweeping the broken glass pitcher up.
“You’ve never experienced a quake before?” Percy asked, sipping from a goblet of water he had poured from an unbroken pitcher. “I thought you had visited Campania felix many times?”
“Several times.” Jason corrected him. “And not once did I experience anything like this. My father told me once how he had been here when a great quake hit, but that’s neither here nor there.” Percy nodded. The two of them turned their heads when a knock came at the door. “Enter.” Jason called.
Reyna led the way in, with a smaller man than Castellan trailing in behind her. He was dressed equally as richly as Castellan, though their appearances differed greatly. Where Castellan was well built, similarly to Jason himself, this man was slim and wiry, and his tanned skin drew Jason’s attention. He discarded the thought immediately and looked to Reyna for explanation.
“Castellan was indisposed and begs your pardon, so he sent his advisor in his stead.” Reyna gestured to the man - Jason saw he was around the same age as Castellan but he, too, looked younger than he was - and the man sprung forward, bowing when he reached Jason. Jason noticed a small patch covering one of the man’s eyes and gathered from the man’s calloused hands and soldier-like gait, not unlike Reyna’s and Jason’s own, that it was from a history of military service.
“Advisor Nakamura, at your service.” The man said. “Though if it pleases you, you can address me as Ethan.” Jason beckoned the man forwards and pulled a seat out for him. The man threw a curious glance at Percy who was sat, lazing on Jason’s bed and watching with faint interest. Reyna settled herself standing against the wall, her arms folded.
“You know I am inspecting this city.” Jason began. Ethan nodded and settled himself, watching Jason intently with his hands neatly on his lap. “I was woken this morning by shaking and, naturally, I was concerned. Are they anything to be worried about, Advisor Nakamura?”
“Not at all.” Nakamura replied. “The quakes have been here as long as the buildings have, Domine, and they are little more than a minor irritant at most.” Jason nodded and paused a moment, allowing the information to sink in. He busied himself for a moment by scribbling down what Nakamura had said in his report. He pulled a scroll yellow with age towards him and scanned through it quickly.
“It says in a report here that a great quake hit the region around 16 years ago and permanently damaged one of the temples here.” Jason said, reading from the scroll. He looked up at Nakamura and raised an eyebrow. “Have you experienced a great quake similar to that since then?” Nakamura shook his head. Jason nodded absentmindedly for a moment before he focused again on Nakamura. “Thank you for your help, Advisor Nakamura, you have been invaluable. My guard here,” He indicated Reyna. “Will escort you to wherever you wish to go from here.”
“You are most generous, Domine.” Nakamura said as he rose and adjusted his robes. He led the way out of the room with Reyna at his side, closing the door behind them. Jason sat back in his chair and nursed his temples, lost in thought. Percy sat silently on Jason’s bed, waiting for the older boy to speak.
“Did he speak the truth, Perseus?” Jason asked after a few minutes. He brought his head up and stared into Percy’s eyes intently, waiting for his answer. Percy nodded genuinely.
“He did. The quakes are entirely commonplace and little to be concerned about.” Jason seemed satisfied with this answer and sat back in his chair again.
“How can a city prepare for Vulcanalia with such quakes?” Jason shook his head bemusedly. “How has the city been doing in terms of preparation, anyway?”
“More merchants have been coming into the city.” Percy answered him. “That’s why the marketplace is so busy - it’s never that packed usually. My father even told me that some of the farmers are keeping their livestock rather than selling it to make sure there are enough sacrifices for the festival.” Jason nodded again, pleased with Percy’s answer, and then stood and stretched.
“It’s far too early to be compiling my report,” Jason said. “I’d much rather be wandering the city.”
“That would be much more achievable if you were dressed more like a commoner or a guard.” Percy pointed out. “You’ll be bothered less by the people if you don’t look like an official.”
“You have a point.” Jason conceded, inclining his head to Percy. To remedy his appearance, Jason strode over to one of the dressers and pulled out one of his more simple outfits: a plain tunic, belt and cuffs. He quickly stripped down then, untroubled by his lack of clothing in front of Percy, and strapped his own gladius to his belt. He turned to face Percy - who had not averted his eyes throughout - and waited for his approval. The boy nodded after a moment, bringing his eyes back up to look at Jason’s.
“Now you look as much a commoner as I do.” He said, standing up briskly and fixing his own clothing. Jason nodded at the remark and led the way to the door. He opened it and found Reyna waiting patiently outside, having returned from escorting Nakamura already. He shared a brief look with her before he nodded.
“We’re ready to go, Reyna.” He indicated Percy to her over his shoulder. “Percy’s coming with us. We’re going to look around the city and make sure the marketplace can cope with the festival’s needs.”
They headed off then, with Reyna and Percy serving as both his guards and his guides through the maze-like city. Jason spent the majority of the time moving from market stall to market stall, chatting with the merchants that tended to them and generally assessing the morale of the city. He checked the items on a list Castellan had given him and ensured that the markets were actually prepared to supply the festival’s feast.
They stopped at several stalls and sampled the items for sale. One merchant was kind enough to let them try the wine he was selling and once more Jason found himself blinking himself silly from the powerful and fruity taste of the delicious wine. They sampled a variety of other stores before Jason finally pocketed his list and combed a hand wearily through his blond hair, displacing the golden locks.
“Time for a break, I think.” He said, looking around the immediate area for something to do. Percy grinned.
“I know a certain hilltop not that far from here. We could go there and rest for a while?” He suggested.
Jason considered this for a moment and, after a brief shared glance with Reyna, the two nodded and beckoned Percy to lead the way.
Percy guided them to a small and familiar hilltop a small distance from the city, slightly uphill atop the peaceful mountain that watched over the city. They sat in companionable silence for a while - Jason lay on the grass, dozing peacefully. Reyna sat, seemingly lost in thought but perked up after a moment and looked over at Percy with a curious and even mischievous look in her eye.
“Let’s see how much you’ve improved, Perseus.” Reyna said, rising and unsheathing her gladius. “Let’s spar.” Jason opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Percy glanced calculatingly over at Reyna before he nodded and rose to his feet, his sword already in his hand. Jason pushed himself a distance away from the two and watched with an amused expression on his face as the two dropped into their stances.
Reyna was the first to move. She lunged aggressively but precisely at Percy’s right in a feint but changed direction at the last moment and instead slashed at his left. Jason expected the manoeuvre to catch Percy off-guard as it had done to Jason himself many times in the past, but the boy saw through it and countered it with a clean flick of his sword, lunging immediately in a counterattack aimed at her armoured chest. An impressed look crossed both Jason and Reyna’s faces, and Reyna dodged Percy’s counterattack and moved backwards several paces out of his range. She wove herself around his next attack until she was behind him, and slashed at his exposed back. Jason watched with a smile as Percy dove forward to avoid the blow, his eyes focusing intently on the boy’s body as he moved, watching as the boy quickly became overwhelmed by Reyna’s ferocious assault. Percy attempted a counter here and there but he increasingly became more defensive as Reyna pushed him back and battered his defence down.
A calculating look crossed Percy’s face as he spotted an opening in Reyna’s defence. Jason watched as the boy’s muscles visibly tensed, betraying his planned actions, and watched as Percy seized the fake opening, lunging with his blade forward towards Reyna’s now exposed chest. Reyna countered the slash, brutally smashing her own blade against the tip of Percy’s, jerking the blade harshly to the side and breaking the boy’s grip on the sword. The gladius flew out of Percy’s hand and landed a small distance away on the ground with an audible thud. Reyna advanced and pressed the tip of her sword against Percy’s throat. Percy visibly froze in surprise and blinked in shock, raising his hands slowly after a moment.
“I cederet.” He muttered after a moment. Reyna grinned and lowered her sword, sheathing it smoothly with a satisfied look on her face. Jason watched as Percy retrieved his sword and noticed that the boy’s face had completely drained of colour and laughed, grabbing the boy’s attention.
“It’s good to see my hero can be undone so easily by such a simple feint.” He taunted playfully. Percy glared over at him fiercely. Jason winked, enticing a blush out of the boy. “I learned the hard way that if an opening in the middle of combat looks too good to be true, it usually is - especially with Reyna.” Jason pulled up the arm on his tunic and turned his right arm over, showing the white scars that littered his skin to Percy. “Souvenirs of my training sessions with Reyna when I didn’t pay attention.”
“Well, if you lost to her then there’s no shame in me losing.” Percy said, grinning. Reyna looked overly pleased with herself and Jason rolled his eyes at her.
“If you were as smooth with your swordsmanship as you are with your tongue then you’d never lose a fight.” Jason muttered. Percy blushed again and Jason laughed.
They returned to the city after a short while more spent lounging on the hilltop. Jason marvelled at how his worries and anxieties over his report had seemed to slip away as they lay there on the grassy surface, staring up at the clouds. Despite being in his twenty-third year, he felt as if he were fourteen again while he was in the company of Reyna and Percy, unbothered by the troubles of the empire. He ran a hand through his hair once more, wrinkling his nose when his hand came away slightly damp with sweat from the hot sun.
“I don’t know about you two,” Jason began, sparing a glance at Reyna and Percy who looked at him, waiting for him to continue talking. “But I’m filthy and in dire need of a bath.”
Percy nodded in agreement, mimicking Jason and running a hand through his hair which was considerably damper from sparring. “Sounds good to me.” Reyna seemed reluctant and Jason noticed, sweeping his eyes to glance at her expression.
“You don’t have to come with us, Reyna.” Jason said, watching as her face relaxed into a thankful expression. She bowed to him.
“Thank you, Domine. I will take my leave.” Reyna bowed promptly again before she strode off and out of sight, leaving Jason and Percy behind. The two shared a look before Jason gestured for Percy to lead the way.
“After you.” He said simply. “You know where the private baths are, after all.”
Percy chose a relatively quick path to the nearest Thermae and found it deserted, closed except for special admittance. He grinned lopsidedly when he was allowed to enter with Jason behind him, enjoying the perks that came with being the friend of an official. They unbuckled their weaponry and removed their belts in the first room – the apodyterium – and placed them neatly away. Jason took a moment to spare a glance around the room, admiring the patterned masonry that adorned the walls before, with a mischievous glance at Percy, he stripped down completely. He watched with amusement as Percy blushed red and turned away, busying himself with stripping down and folding his clothes. When they were done they handed their clothes to the waiting capsarii and proceeded in to the tepidarium where they sat in comfortable silence while the unctores anointed them. Jason closed his eyes and enjoyed the heat of the room while he was anointed – it was a pleasant heat, not too hot as to be boiling and not too cold as to be freezing. He opened his eyes after a while and spotted Percy’s eyes roaming over his body. The boy blushed and averted his gaze when he noticed Jason watching him.
They stood when the unctores finished and Percy led the way in to the much hotter caldarium. While Percy led the way to the puelos – a large quadrangular bath filled with pleasantly hot water – Jason’s eyes were drawn to the boy’s naked back. He raised an eyebrow in surprise when he saw the outline of a faint white scar along the boy’s back. When they settled next to each other in the water, Jason placed his elbow on the edge of the bath, resting it, and traced the white scar along Percy’s back with his index finger. Percy tensed up at the sudden touch and the boy shivered, but he did not object. Jason finally spoke up.
“How did you get this scar?” He asked, tracing the scar with his fingertip again, hoping that the question wasn’t too personal. Percy didn’t mind and he smiled sadly.
“Clarisse La Rue.” He said, enjoying the sensation of Jason tracing his scar. “She was the bully you and your father saved me from, once.”
Jason nodded, still absent-mindedly tracing the scar tenderly. “I remember her.” He looked up at Percy then and his hand stopped, much to Percy’s disappointment. “Does she still bother you, Perseus? Say the word and she’ll be cleaning the city after Vulcanalia. I’ll make it so.”
Percy smiled then – a proper smile, and Jason’s breath caught when the corners of the boy’s mouth tugged upwards and revealed the whites of the boy’s teeth.
“A sweet offer, but completely unnecessary.” Jason’s confusion must have shown on his face, so Percy added, “I gave as good as I got, I used the advice you and Reyna gave me. She hasn’t bothered me since.”
Jason’s face split into a grin then and he ruffled the boy’s hair lovingly. “That’s the boy I knew from all those years ago.”
Percy shared the grin and his eyes faltered, glancing down at Jason’s lips. Jason’s grin widened when the boy leaned in towards him and stopped inches away, as if asking for Jason’s permission. Even with the heat in the room, he could still feel Percy’s hot breath ghosting against his cheek. After waiting a further moment to tease the boy, Jason finally closed the distance between the two, his hand snaking its way around Percy and pulling him close, his other hand threading its way through the boy’s hair as he brought their lips together. He allowed Percy only just enough time to savour the innocent kiss before he tore himself away with a mischievous grin, enjoying the disappointed and flushed expression that flitted across Percy’s face at the lack of contact.
“That’s all you’re getting for now,” Jason began with a teasing tone and an even more mischievous expression on his face. “Once Vulcanalia is over and my report is done, we’ll have all the free time we want.” He leaned forward then, his breath grazing against Percy’s ear and eliciting a shiver from the other boy. “I might even bring you with me when I return to the capital. The thermae are even better there.”
Jason felt the boy grin when he leaned in to the crook of Jason’s neck. “I’ll have to help you complete that report pretty quickly then.”
Jason returned the grin. “My hero.”
*
They retired from the baths soon after, cooling themselves with colder water before drying themselves and retrieving their clothes, changing in flirtatious silence, casting glances at each other every few seconds. They left the thermae feeling much more refreshed and relaxed both physically and emotionally than they had felt before they bathed and Jason stretched, enjoying the relaxed, lethargic feeling in his muscles.
I could get used to feeling like this. He thought. He spared a glance skyward and was surprised to find it late afternoon already.
The two shared another glance before they headed off in unison back to Jason’s chamber where they enjoyed a relatively quick meal before they set about compiling and writing his report on the city. Jason read aloud from a list in front of him provided by Castellan while Percy checked them against the list Jason had written the previous day. They finished Jason’s report in half the time it would have taken Jason on his own. Jason glanced up after a while when the room had long grown dark and quiet, save for the scratchings of his ink-dipped metal pen on the scroll in front of him, and saw that Percy had fallen asleep on the bed, the list still clutched in his hand. Jason took a moment to savour the view of Percy’s face free of expression and peacefully slumbering before he moved over and gently prised the list from the boy. He shook his head with a small smile as he untied the boy’s armour and placed it neatly on the side, his own not-so-fond memories of falling asleep in armour and waking up covered in bruises coming back to the forefront of his mind. He took a moment to manoeuvre the boy in to a more comfortable position on the bed before he stripped down himself and joined him, pulling the cover over the two of them. The world went black and he drifted asleep the exact moment his head touched the soft pillow, managing to wrap an arm around the boy before sleep took him.
*
Jason’s eye opened wearily, his vision bleary and an unfamiliar warmth and weight snuggled into his chest. He glanced down and was met with soft locks of black hair tickling his face and smiled, pressing his nose down into Percy’s hair and inhaling. He grinned when he caught the scent of sea salt – even after bathing, the smell of the sea still clung to Percy as if he had just dived in the deep waters five minutes earlier. Percy stirred when Jason brought a hand to the boy’s cheek, tracing one of the boy’s cheekbones fondly, and stretched, looking around in confusion and rubbing his eyes sleepily.
“I must have fallen asleep reading.” Percy said after he had woken himself properly.
Jason stood up while the boy adjusted himself to his surroundings and dressed. Percy glanced down and blushed crimson when he realised he was wearing little and leaving even less to the imagination.
“I’m guessing I have you to thank for removing my armour?” He asked.
Jason turned and grinned back at the boy, winking flirtatiously. “Of course. I was very thorough.”
Heat rushed to Percy’s face and red leaked into his cheeks, leaving him as brilliantly red as a rose. A daring expression crossed his face after he regained his composure and he arched his eyebrows in an unspoken and flirtatious challenge.
“Well,” he said, pausing to bite his lip and looking at Jason’s clothed body. “I guess I’ll have to return the favour after the festival tonight.”
“I hope that’s not an empty promise.” Jason said, taking a sip of wine from the goblet set next to the bed, savouring the fruity taste that seemed less delicious now that he was looking at Percy with a coy smile on his face. The boy responded by standing and pulling on his clothes with deliberate slowness, making sure Jason was watching.
A sudden knock on the door startled the boy, who tangled himself quickly in his clothing and lost his balance, falling with a thud to the floor. Jason snorted and nearly inhaled all of his wine, choking in an attempt to clear his airway. Percy repaid Jason’s laughter by throwing his tunic at Jason’s head when the older boy moved towards the door. Jason dodged the tunic and opened it, unsurprised to see Reyna waiting there. She inclined her head respectfully.
“Domine, the bonfires have been constructed and all of the necessary preparations have been made. The festival has already begun.” She said. Jason looked at her in confusion for a moment before he turned on his heel and looked out of the window, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw the bright sunlight of the late afternoon already shining through.
“We must’ve slept pretty late if they’ve already made the bonfires…” Jason commented aloud to himself.
Reyna nodded and Jason turned back to her, spotting the merest hint of a smirk on her face. “I figured you would need longer to… refresh yourself this morning, Domine.” Jason watched as Reyna cast a glance at Percy before she averted her eyes and returned to looking at him, the hint of a smile on her face growing with each passing minute.
Jason grinned sheepishly. “It’s not what you’re thinking, Reyna.” He could tell she didn’t believe him just by looking at her. “We’ll meet you at the central bonfires in a while.”
Reyna nodded and took her leave without another word, glancing back only once with a smug grin on her face. Jason closed the door and turned on his heel again. He was greeted with the sight of a shirtless Perseus waiting impatiently for his tunic. Jason took a moment to sip from his wine and savoured the view before he bent over and picked the thrown tunic from the floor, throwing it back to the boy.
“As much as I’d like to see you make good on your word before the festival, I’d sooner wait for the main event.” He watched streaks of red permeate Percy’s cheeks and decided there and then that it was one of his favourite sights to behold. He took another sip of his wine and savoured his view of a blushing and embarrassed Percy before he turned around and allowed him to dress privately.
*
They left the room soon after once they had ensured Percy was decently clothed – a task which took far longer than it should have because Jason spent half the time teasing the younger boy, and the younger boy would always rise to the bait and throw whatever article of clothing he was holding at him. The first thing Jason noticed was how busy the city was – sure, it had seemed busy when he first arrived, but now it seemed to have swelled and even doubled in size. There was a loud chatter in the air from all the people talking and celebrating and drinking. Jason busied himself with Castellan and his waiting advisors in ensuring that the final preparations for Vulcanalia were made and that the city was ready for the evening ahead of them, with Reyna and Percy flanking him as his personal guards.
He spent so much time with his head down in a list, wandering the city and inspecting the bonfires with Castellan that he barely noticed the time. When he finally looked up with weary eyes, the sky had gone dark, Castellan had given his speech, the bonfires had been lit and the sacrifices were being prepared. He was brought out of his thoughts once more when Percy took the list out of his hands and put a goblet of wine in its place.
“You’ve done enough today, Jason.” He said, lifting Jason’s hand upwards towards Jason’s mouth. “Drink and celebrate like everyone else. You’ve done everything you needed to.”
Jason looked from Percy to the goblet and raised an eyebrow, smiling playfully. “If I didn’t know better, Perseus, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk.”
Percy smiled coyly and pressed the goblet to Jason’s lips. “I’ll admit the thought had crossed my mind.”
Jason blinked and then smiled, parting his lips and allowing Percy to tip the contents of the goblet into his mouth. He downed it in one and Percy looked surprised. Their attention was brought to the nearest bonfire when Castellan announced the sacrifices were about to begin. The chosen livestock were brought forward and Jason put his arm over Percy’s shoulder. When the animals were brought to the fire, Percy buried his face into the crook of Jason’s neck and closed his eyes. Jason cupped the boy’s ear but did not look away: he had to play the role of an official and not just look the role, so he had to look. It was brutal and chilling, but Jason got through it.
With the offerings to Vulcan made, Jason filled two goblets of wine and handed them to Percy and Reyna. When they both raised their eyebrows and looked ready to refuse, he silenced them with a look and a smirk.
“You should be allowed to enjoy Vulcanalia too.” The two shared a glance and still looked ready to protest. Jason took a moment to refill his own goblet and sipped from it, a grin forming on his lips when he looked at the two again. “That’s an order, Jackson, Ramírez-Arellano.”
Percy grinned and shrugged, then downed his drink after a moment, surprising Jason. Reyna confined herself to taking a small sip from her goblet, savouring the wine rather than practically inhaling it like Percy.
Jason found himself a seat and watched the festival progress. He watched and listened as songs were sung honouring Vulcan and his many forges, listening to the melodic music played by skilled musicians who gathered around the roaring bonfires and sipping from his goblet that was never allowed to be empty. He watched with a blurry, amused expression on his face – his eyes somewhat unfocused and a grin constantly adorning his lips, his head swimming from the alcohol – as Percy became more and more drunk and clumsy with his actions and even Reyna seemed to loosen up a little, her stoic demeanour giving way to a smile after her second goblet of wine.
Jason stood and found Castellan sometime after spotting Percy staring up at the sky dazedly and excused himself for the evening. He made a conscious effort to commend Castellan and his advisors for their effective organisation of the festival, impressing both Castellan and himself with how formal and official he had managed to be even when obviously drunk.
With that done, Jason turned and weaved his way clumsily through the dancing and celebrating crowds, losing his footing more than once and stumbling, though never falling. He found Percy pretty quickly and helped the boy to his feet.
A drunken grin crossed Jason’s face as he forced his eyes to focus on Percy’s face, taking the empty goblet out of Percy’s hands. “T-that’s enough wine for one evening, don’t you think?” Jason was surprised his speech wasn’t ridiculously slurred and grinned. Maybe I’m getting used to this wine after all?
Percy grinned up at Jason and rested his head on Jason’s shoulder again while Jason half-carried, half-steered the boy away from the crowd. He found Reyna on the way and told her to enjoy herself and to make sure she got some sleep that night before he continued walking on, supporting Percy along the way. He was almost certain he could hear Reyna’s laughter at their drunken swaying even when they reached Jason’s door.
Percy stopped them before Jason could open the door, moving in front of him and wrapping his arms around the older boy’s neck. He stood on his toes and brought his lips clumsily against Jason’s, his breath smelling like the zesty, fresh fruit used in the vibrant wine. Jason let out a soft gasp in surprise as Percy’s hands wandered downwards and grinned into the kiss. Percy returned the grin and reached behind him with one hand, opening the door and leading the way in, never breaking the kiss, and closing the door behind them.
*
Jason’s eyes snapped open and he shot up in bed, dislodging Percy who had been resting his head on his chest. He looked around in alarm, his head pounding and his vision somewhat blurry. Percy looked the same, his eyes darting around the room, looking for whatever had woken them. They shared a confused glance before the answer came: a sudden boom that shook the room and the building. The two dived out of the bed and ran towards the window, Percy with a slight limp, and looked out. Jason privately thought to himself disbelievingly that he was surely looking out into the fiery underworld and not the city of Pompeii.
The sky was black and stormy and there was no sign of the sun. A howling wind tore its way through the city as another boom shook the buildings around them. Thunder roared its displeasure in the skies above, as if Jupiter himself commanded it, and lightning streaked violently across the sky, striking tall trees around the city. What looked like black rain that Jason figured was ash was pouring from the sky, covering the rooves of the buildings around them. Everything – absolutely everything was shaking. Smaller buildings with weak foundations flew apart and crumbled from the force. Taller buildings – like the one they were in – shook madly but remained standing, remaining mostly unscathed. Jason looked up at the source of the noise and his heart near stopped, his breath caught in his throat and he gasped in shock and fear. The mountain – the seemingly peaceful, slumbering giant he had relaxed on not two days before was awake and very much alive, beating the land with quakes and hurling ash into the sky.
People were running and screaming in the streets. Quakes they were used to, but storms like this they were not. They ran covering their mouths and letting out loud, harsh, raspy and desperate coughs Jason could just about hear from his window over the mountain screaming its rage and hate for all to hear, spewing fire and ash out of its once peaceful and fertile top.
Jason’s eyes widened in shock and he gulped in fear, then he cursed loud enough to wake the gods. He ran back to the bed and picked up his discarded clothes from the evening before and quickly dressed. He looked over and saw Percy still frozen at the window, his face devoid of colour and his eyes empty of everything save fear and terror. Jason steeled himself and projected an expression of controlled calm when the boy looked to him for example. Jason walked over and placed a reassuring hand on Percy’s shoulder, forcing the boy to look at him.
“Percy. Get dressed. We’re going to be okay.” The boy looked at him dazedly, but Jason could see fear losing its control over the boy. “You’re with me. You’re safe. Get dressed.” Percy blinked before he nodded, running as fast as his limp would allow before he dressed. The door to their room flew open and Reyna ran in, a wild look in her eyes but otherwise her face was devoid of emotion like Jason’s. She gestured wildly for them to follow and Jason nodded, pulling Percy by the hand out of the room.
They stuck close together, hardly able to hear themselves let alone each other over the raucous cacophony of the civilians’ screams of terror, their violent and raspy coughing and the monstrous roars of the mountain. They sprinted through the streets, slowing down only to help the wounded citizens on their way, and each time Jason would yell “Fugite! Fugite!”
Percy knew where the civilians were heading – the places they always went when quakes hit: they would gather under strong arches and wait the quakes out, knowing themselves to be safe under the arches. Percy had never hid under one himself and had always stayed at his father’s side by the sea. Now he was alone, save for Jason and Reyna. His face was pale with palpable fear. Jason did not lead them to the arches and Percy’s stomach settled somewhat.
The reached one of the stables on the city outskirts and found a lone horse tied up, thrashing against its bindings and neighing desperately to escape. The beast calmed enough for Percy and Reyna to saddle themselves on it and the two looked, waiting for Jason to join them. Jason shook his head and slipped his father’s ring off, grabbing Percy’s hand and sliding it on to the boy’s ring finger. Confusion took over Percy’s fear, temporarily holding back fear while Reyna went white with shock – she knew what he was doing.
“I’ll see you soon, Perseus, but I have to make sure the people are okay.” Jason said in as calm a voice as he could manage, fighting back the quavering tone in his voice and the fear that was no doubt visible in his eyes. Percy moved to dismount from the horse but Jason pushed him back on and slapped the horse’s hind. “Fugite! Go!”
The horse shot off at breakneck speeds and Reyna took the reins, barely managing to keep control of the horse to prevent the two from being flung off. Percy looked back with a face as pale as death itself and even from a distance, Jason could see the unmistakable tears that streaked their way down the boy’s cheeks. He forced a calm expression on his face and attempted to steady his breathing, even attempting a confident smile. Percy’s expression remained unchanged and Reyna grabbed onto him tightly when the horse jumped over fallen debris. With a heavy heart, Jason turned to look at the fiery mountain with a pale face, knowing that his façade hadn’t fooled Percy. His body broke out in fearful tremors that challenged the quakes in their violence and he offered a silent prayer to the gods to help them – help him.
With Percy’s direction, Reyna quickly spurred the horse towards the port and saw that Neptunus was waiting, diverting the civilians that had not sought shelter under the stone arches onto the few, available boats that were docked in the port. The two dismounted from their horse and the horse bolted, overtaking those who ran out of the city and away from the mountain rather than into the water. They could see the water thrashing around violently, disturbed from its lazy slumber by the quakes and Percy knew it was only a matter of time before the water began to rise.
Neptunus spotted Percy instantly and even over the screams of the people and the roars of the mountain, Percy could hear his thundering voice clearly, yelling for him to get on a boat. Percy looked wide-eyed at his father and shook his head wildly, fighting to get free of Reyna’s iron grip to get back to Jason and bring him to the dock. Neptunus’s eyes snapped to Reyna and he barked an order for her to get him on the boat and keep him there. Reyna nodded her head and she took a stronger grip on Percy, half-carrying him, half-dragging him onto the nearest boat while Percy kicked and hit and bit and tore to get free. When he finally broke her vice-like grip on him, the boat had already been filled, untied and launched too far for Percy to swim back. He watched with maddening desperation as his father shrunk from his view, a lone figure looking back at him from the docks, his hand reached out as if to grasp Percy, and Percy screamed his fury and his hurt at the world that his father and Jason weren’t with them. And then it all went black.
*
News of Vesuvio had spread far and wide across the Empire long before Percy and Reyna arrived at the capital, Roma. Whispers and rumours spread like wildfire, claiming that the gods had been angered and Vulcan had not been pleased with the offerings made. Hasty decisions were made by the emperor to increase the offerings made to the god each year, and across the empire, prayers were held to the gods to spare them the wrath they had unleashed in Campania.
Percy raised his head when Reyna approached him and gestured for him to lead the way. She escorted him into a marble chamber adorned with beautifully sculpted statues of the gods and exotic plants he hadn’t seen before. Sat behind a desk with a pale face and unmoving was a man who looked almost as if he were made of marble himself. His expression was blank and betrayed no emotion, though Percy saw through him, and he saw fear. The man looked up when Percy approached. Percy shared a glance with Reyna and she nodded approvingly at him. Percy removed Jason’s ring from his finger and placed it in front of the man. This close to him, Percy recognised some elements of the man’s face – the chiselled jawline was unmistakable: it was the same as Jason’s.
The man studied the ring for a moment before he glanced from it to Percy and then back again. His face, if possible, grew even whiter and his expression slipped, his face contorting violently into agony and his eyes twitched before he regained his composure. He flicked his hand at Percy and spoke only one word: “Speak.”
Percy launched into his explanation and explained how Jason had commanded them to flee, telling them to get to safety while he remained behind to ensure the citizens were safe. He paused for a moment.
“I-I don’t know whether your son survived the gods’ wrath, Domine.” He said, after a moment of tense silence.
The man took a moment to process Percy’s story. He shot a glance in Reyna’s direction before he returned to looking at Percy.
“I remember you, boy.” The man said simply after another moment of silent thought. “My son took a liking to you the moment he saw you those many years ago.” He paused again to take a small sip from his water goblet. “If my son is dead, he will have died an honourable hero and he will have died well. He will be honoured, as will the other victims of this catastrophe, and he will live well. He did his duty and died a true Roman.” Percy twitched but held his tongue, wanting to point out how if his father had not made obedience such an important thing, Jason would not have felt compelled to remain and would not have died. “I thank you for going to the trouble to bring me this news… you will be rewarded, of course.” Percy began to refuse but the man silenced him with a commanding look. “But please, leave me to grieve for now.”
Percy bowed and swiftly left the room. Reyna followed behind him, watching the boy’s face carefully.
*
It had been some time since they had arrived at the capital, and yet more days passed, blurring together in an amalgamation of hurt, suffering, pain and then emptiness in successive, unending cycles that threatened to break the resolve of even Reyna. Reyna had kept him company since they had arrived, but Percy could tell she too was grieving, though she tried to hide it from him and he found they often drowned their sorrows in wine – though not Pompeii’s wine. That wine was too painful to drink, for both of them.
It was on the seventh day after arriving that they were broken from their sorrow when news of Campania survivors arriving reached them. The two perked up and shared a glance, neither of them daring to hope, and headed down to the source of the commotion. They arrived at the main city gates and fought their way through the crowd to the front. Reyna snarled at any who shot them a look or looked ready to get in their way and they quickly backed off, fright evident on their faces.
The two watched as survivors in varying conditions poured in to the city. Percy noticed that each and every one of them wore clothes blackened and smeared with ash and soot. Percy’s heart faltered a little with each face he looked at and was met with disappointment time and time again. When the flow of people ended, he turned with a heavy heart and began walking away. Jason wasn’t there, and neither was his father.
Reyna’s arm shot out and grabbed Percy, pulling him to a stop. He looked back in surprise before his eyes widened in shock and his breath caught in his throat.
Two men were walking towards the city – from this distance, Percy and Reyna could tell they were battered and bruised and covered with ash, but very much alive and well. Percy recognised the taller, bulkier man immediately – his father was alive. His heart was lifted immediately and for the first time in days, Percy genuinely smiled. When they slowly got closer, Percy saw that his father was supporting someone. His father’s arm was around the other’s waist while he half-carried him forward, and Percy could see the other man was limping.
The smaller man raised his head and Percy saw the strikingly familiar blue eyes and the soot-covered blond locks and he and Reyna let out a cry of surprise and joy, before the two of them surged forward and embraced the two men. Jason smiled weakly, fatigued by his journey, before he and Neptunus returned the hugs with relieved smiles on their faces.
Glossary Roma - Rome, the capital city of the Empire. Ave - "Hail" Propraetor - Roman rank equivalent to a governor Vigiles Urbani - "Watchmen of the city", the firefighters and police of ancient rome. Gladius - the primary sword of Ancient Roman foot soldiers Vado - "Go" Ita Domine - equivalent to "Yes Lord" Neptunus - Latin name for the god Neptune Exercitus Romanus - "Roman Army" Classis - the Roman Navy/fleet Campania felix - literally "fertile countryside", the Latin name for the southwestern region of Italy, Campania I cederet - "I yield" Thermae - Roman bath Apodyterium - the entrance room in a Roman bath where people undressed and stored their clothing Capsarii - slaves that attended the apodyterium and managed clothing Tepidarium - the warm room in a Roman bath Unctores - slaves that annointed people before they bathed Caldarium - the hot room in a Roman bath Puelos - a quadrangular bath filled with hot water in the caldarium Vulcanalia - Roman festival celebrating the god Vulcan/Vulcanus Fugite - "Flee" Vesuvio - Latin name for Mt Vesuvius
Will you write more? If yes, when?
Hello there, so sorry for the long delay in my response, I’ve been caught up with college work.
I’m actually planning two things right now and should be posting fairly soon - within the next few weeks, though no promises as both projects are going to be quite long.
More detail later but I’ll say that one will be a long oneshot centred on Jercy (Jason x Percy) while the other will contain multiple pairings and will also be Percy Jackson-centric.
Update: I’ve started writing the Jercy fic. So far I have 3702 words and aim to have at least 15,000. It’s a oneshot, as mentioned above, and will have only one chapter. More details later.
The other one with multiple pairings is in the planning stage, and my friend is helping me plot out some of the areas of it. I think you guys will love it, and I aim for that one to have at least 20 chapters.
Will you write more? If yes, when?
Hello there, so sorry for the long delay in my response, I’ve been caught up with college work.
I’m actually planning two things right now and should be posting fairly soon - within the next few weeks, though no promises as both projects are going to be quite long.
More detail later but I’ll say that one will be a long oneshot centred on Jercy (Jason x Percy) while the other will contain multiple pairings and will also be Percy Jackson-centric.
I LOVED CONCERNING DRAGONS IT WAS SO GOOD YOU'RE AWESOME
Thank you, your support is invaluable <3
Concerning Dragons [9] [Finale]
Title: Concerning Dragons Chapter Title: A Violent Encounter Characters | Pairing: Will Solace, Clarisse la Rue, Nico di Angelo | Will/Nico [Solangelo] Summary: [The war with Gaea is over and peace has been restored - or so the campers would like to believe. While Gaea herself has been defeated, many of those loyal to her remain and threaten the fragile peace, and so once more the campers are called upon by the Olympian gods to slay the fiercest dragon to live and redeem a god fallen from grace.] Notes: Chapter 9 / 9 Beta’d by my delightful friend mewsugarpudd.
It was with heavy hearts and shaky legs that they finally stepped out of the car. With Jules Albert’s expert driving and navigational skills they had reached Delphi in record time from Athens, even after being delayed by Tityos. They had stopped a distance from the main ruin and had quickly said their farewells to the zombie chauffeur before scaling one of the hills overlooking the archaeological ruins. From there, Will looked down with a pale face at the main ruin: a pillar at the centre that had no doubt once been part of an impressive, decorated temple, reduced now to a crumbling, weatherworn ruin. Following his gaze, Nico’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted their target. Wrapped around this temple ruin, seemingly asleep, was Python – a monstrously large serpent with a ridged, spikey, emerald hide, horned tail and vicious talons on each foot. Will pulled back from the edge of the hill and turned to face them, brushing a stray lock of blond hair out of his wide eyes.
“Well,” he began shakily. “On the bright side, we don’t have to worry about any mortals seeing us.” Clarisse attempted a laugh but it died in her throat. Will spared a glance back at Python and the world seemed to spin and he swayed where he stood. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, snapping himself out of it.
“I imagine a fire-breathing, carnivorous lizard does that to tourism.” Nico replied, a hollow smile on his face, quickly turning to alarm when Will started swaying again. He reached out and placed his hand on the blond’s shoulder, steadying him.
“It’s strange… I feel weaker here than I did before.” Will muttered, rubbing his eyes again.
“Probably because Python’s cutting off the source of Apollo’s power.” Clarisse suggested. “Wasn’t that one of the first things your dad did, killing Python? It was one of his first proper acts as a God.” Will nodded.
“So what’s the plan, Solace?” Nico interjected, his arms folded and his brows furrowed in concentration. A sheepish expression flitted across Will’s face and the boy shrugged. A small amount of colour filled the boy’s cheeks.
“I don’t have one.” Will said, smiling awkwardly. “I just expected we’d go in all guns blazing and hope for the best.” Nico’s stomach dropped while Clarisse looked on in surprise.
“That’s a brilliant plan,” Nico spat viciously. “For dying instantly.” Will shrugged once more in response.
“Planning wastes time and brings no guarantee of success.” He countered, looking to Clarisse for support. Clarisse seemed to nod, then turned her gaze to Nico.
“He’s right – to some extent.” She added when she noticed the triumphant light in Will’s eyes. “I didn’t plan when I charged that Drakon during the Battle for Manhattan. I just ran at it.” Nico narrowed his eyes.
“This is dangerous thinking, La Rue. I’m sure Python is a bit craftier and a bit more cunning than a Drakon.” He countered.
“All the evidence points to the contrary – what overgrown lizard attacks a pregnant Titaness and expects to survive?” Nico looked on the verge of giving up, though still somewhat unconvinced. One part of him agreed with the apparently senseless logic the two were suggesting while another part – his common sense, he bet – screamed for him to force the two into agreeing with him and planning for this battle. Seeing no guarantee of getting his way, he decided to compromise.
“Alright, we’ll do it your way.” Will and Clarisse shared a grin, but before they could celebrate their verbal victory, Nico cut them off. “But we’re at least doing it somewhat intelligently. If I’m going to die today, I don’t want to die a complete idiot.” Now the two shared a suspicious glance. “We’ll ambush it – one of us goes in first and gets Python’s attention and the other two jump it from behind.”
“Guess that’ll be me going in then.” Will said. When Clarisse looked ready to object and volunteer herself, he spoke again. “Why not me? A son of Apollo will get its attention more than a son of Hades or Ares will, more history with my blood and all that.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Clarisse spoke up, leaning against her spear. “So you’ll go in, hopefully not get roasted alive and me and Di Angelo will attack from behind and try and create an opening long enough for you to shoot the bastard with your special arrow.” Will nodded.
“Sounds like a plan – happy Neeks?” He shot at Nico who shook his head in disbelief.
“You’re crazy, both of you…” Nico raised his head and looked at the two then, a small flicker of hope in his eyes. “But it just might work. Alright, I’m in. It’s too late to back out now anyway.”
“Hey, if we survive this then drinks are on me when we get back.” Will said in an attempt to cheer them up. Clarisse grinned and Nico smiled weakly. The three of them turned then and looked down at Python before they split – Will headed down while Clarisse and Nico wove around in a circle to come out behind Python.
*
Will stepped out into the open, climbing the few steps that separated him from the behemoth of a lizard coiled around the temple remains. With each step he seemed to grow heavier and fainter, finding it harder and harder to lift his foot and place it on the step above. Each step became a trial of strength and willpower, and he knew if his pride as a Half-Blood and his father’s status as an Olympian weren’t at stake, he would be fighting the urge to run away. After what seemed like an age, he finally reached the top and took in the sight of the dragon that lay before him.
Python was sleeping, if the deep rumbling from its chest and the closed eyelids were any indication. Will glanced around, taking in the places he could use for cover and anything that could be advantageous to the three of them before he picked up a small pebble, took aim and lobbed it at the sleeping dragon. The pebble found its mark and struck Python right on one of its closed eyes. The dragon inhaled and the eyelid opened, revealing a slit pupil surrounded by a harsh green iride. It rose from its position on the ground and surveyed Will lazily, its eye half-closed. The dragon’s nostrils flared and Will felt the temperature around him rise. When Python’s eye grew wide, Will got the impression the dragon had figured out he was a son of Apollo. A low hiss escaped the dragon’s mouth and its forked tongue darted out to taste the air, much like a snake.
“Didn’t your father tell you not to wake a sleeping dragon, child of Apollo?” Will brought a hand to his temple as the slithery, velvety, mocking voice spoke in his mind. “You have travelled far to die.” Python rose fully from the ground then, standing on its legs and unfurling its monstrous wings, blocking out the sun from Will’s position. Will’s stomach dropped and his heart seemed to skip a beat in fear, but he held his ground, shaking slightly.
“Sorry, Python, but you’re dying here.” Will spoke up, his voice equally shaky but determined. “I kill you and redeem my dad. It’s completely personal.” The same voice entered his mind now, laughing deliriously.
“Perhaps I’ll eat you to send your father a message.” Python snorted, a ring of smoke escaping from its nostrils, and bared its overlarge fangs at Will. “How do you hope on killing me alone, son of Apollo?” Will grinned.
“It’d be suicide if I came alone – now!” He yelled. Clarisse appeared from behind a rock and lunged with masterful grace and precision at Python’s hind quarter with her sharpened spear from one side while Nico, who had dove from behind a pillar, slashed with his stygian iron sword at Python’s exposed flank. The dragon let out a mighty roar and span, an impressive feat given its startling size, and lowered its wings to cover its body, protecting itself from Nico and Clarisse’s attacks. The sheer force and speed of the dragon’s movements caught the two by surprise, and they were quickly whipped off their feet with a flick of Python’s spiked tail.
The dragon advanced on Clarisse, raising a clawed foot to stamp on her prone form. Clarisse rolled, keeping a tight grip on her spear, and quickly jumped to her feet, diving into Nico and knocking him out of the way when Python spewed a jet of fire at the two of them. Will drew his bow and nocked an arrow, taking aim at the dragon before releasing the bowstring. The arrow struck the dragon’s flank but bounced harmlessly off of the armoured scales, denting the arrow tip. It was only then that Will recalled Artemis and Annabeth’s warnings about the reinforced scales. His reflexes kicked in and brought him from his thoughts when he dove and rolled out of the way of a clawed swipe from Python, barely avoiding the jet of flame that followed soon after. He took cover behind a pillar, panting and sweating. He brushed stray, wet locks of hair from his face and spared a glance from behind his cover.
Nico and Clarisse were weaving their way around Python, dodging most of his attacks. Clarisse was caught on the shoulder by one of the dragon’s claws and it left a shallow gash that bled furiously, while Nico was knocked off his feet with a swipe of the dragon’s tail and slammed into a pillar. He recovered before Will could intervene and dove behind the pillar for cover, the jet of fire Python had released parting harmlessly around the pillar that Nico was now hid behind. A sense of desperation overcame Will then, and he figured now was as good a time as ever, considering death seemed likely.
“Hey, Nico!” He called over the roars of Python and Clarisse’s war cries, getting the younger boy’s attention. Nico’s head whipped around in alarm, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated from the adrenaline pumping through the boy’s veins. “I think I love you!” The boy visibly paled with shock and surprise, though a small smile quickly spread across the other boy’s face.
“I think I love you, too!” He called back before diving out of cover and slashing at Python’s neck. Clarisse rolled her eyes and stabbed with her spear at Python before dancing backwards out of its reach when it swiped with its claws in her direction.
“Of all the times to confess, you choose now?!” She yelled back at the two, diving out of Python’s path and the jet of flame it had sent her way. Clarisse reacted too slowly and the fire licked at her armoured back, singing the metal and burning the skin underneath lightly, but not as badly as if she had been caught in the full torrent of flame. She winced but continued striking at Python and retreating, angering the dragon by continuously avoiding its attacks with a mad grin on her face. Will joined her now, alleviating the pressure on her by drawing Python’s attention to him by firing three arrows at the dragon’s head. He dodged and weaved his way through swipes and jets of flame, receiving mild burns and gashes all across his body, shredding parts of his clothes.
“You have the romantic soul of a slug, La Rue!” Will shot back at Clarisse, diving behind cover again to avoid another spray of fire from the dragon, gasping for breath and wincing from the pain of the burns and gashes across his body. Opposite him, Nico glanced from behind his own cover and scanned the beast’s body for a weakness, his eyes flitting wildly from limb to limb. His eyes settled on the beast’s neck and he spotted a dented, damaged scale just before the joint, no doubt where an artery lay.
“Clarisse, I’ve fou—“ Nico stopped short when he noticed Clarisse wasn’t next to him and spared another look out of cover, looking for her. When he didn’t immediately see her he began to worry, but was quickly relieved when she sprinted out from behind a pillar, shouting profanities at the overlarge dragon. Python took the bait and swiped at her, striking the pillar she had ran from behind which keeled over and came crashing down on top of the dragon, stunning it. Clarisse took this opportunity to clear the distance between her and Nico and joined him behind cover.
Nico now pointed to the dazed beast’s neck, indicating the injured scale. Will and Clarisse found the spot at the same time and looked at Nico in understanding, nodding in acknowledgement.
The three leapt from cover and dove in different directions, racing around Python at different angles. The beast’s head swivelled from demigod to demigod, clearly confused and wondering which to attack. Nico felt heat sear the skin on the back of his neck and yelled in agony, slipping and falling to the ground when he felt his back burning, skidding to a halt near a pillar. He got to his feet just barely in time to see Will be knocked into the air with a whip of Python’s tail. Clarisse alone was crouched in front of the dragon, panting with exertion, having been knocked down by a swipe of the dragon’s claws. She had a gash on her face that was bleeding profusely, but the mad grin on her face never left her face, even when the dragon opened its mouth and released a torrent of flame right at her, engulfing her immobile form in the searing blaze.
“No!” Will shouted, scrambling to his feet and firing an arrow at Python’s eye. The dragon turned its head and the arrow bounced off the armoured scales on its snout, the plume of fire stopping as Python moved. Nico looked in desperation to where Clarisse had been and then looked in surprise as she rose to her feet, singed but relatively unharmed and very much alive, cloaked in a red aura that seemed to radiate from her. Once he had recovered from his surprise, Nico prayed to Ares and thanked him.
Python arced its neck to attack Will and released a torrent of flame at the blond, who yelled in fear and dropped to the floor, letting the fire cascade over his head harmlessly. Clarisse yelled triumphantly as she spotted an opening and, with a great yell and a tremendous amount of effort, heaved her spear through the air at Python like a javelin. The spear soared through the air, spinning and gaining momentum before it sank into the beast’s neck, embedding itself in one of the undamaged scales.
Python roared in agony and reared on its hind legs, its great wings unfurling once more as it prepared to take flight. Nico inhaled deeply and quickly thrust his sword deeply into the ground, once more calling on the powers of his father. The ground responded quickly to his request, tearing itself apart violently and repairing itself in an endless, earthquake-like cycle beneath the dragon’s feet, unbalancing the beast and preventing it from flying. Will reached behind him and drew the golden arrow from his quiver. The arrow hummed with violent energy when he aligned it on his bow and seemed to radiate pure sunlight from its very core. Will took careful aim at the beast’s damaged scale.
“This is for my father.” Will said, and released the drawstring. The arrow soared through the air, reflecting rays of sunlight as it span in a dazzlingly brilliant display of iridescent light and ripped its way through the damaged scale of Python’s neck, embedding itself deeply in the vulnerable skin and the artery that lay beneath. Python’s eyes grew wide and it let out a roar that died quickly in its throat. The arrow embedded in the beast’s chest began to hum louder with energy and glow even more brightly, and light erupted from the cracks separating Python’s scales before light itself engulfed the dragon in a tremendous explosion that whipped the three off of their feet and into the air. The three slammed to the ground, winded by the fall. They looked over when the blinding light as bright as the sun had finally faded and saw only a charred crater where Python had stood.
The three stood up warily, advancing to the centre of the ruins as a trio. They collapsed weakly against one of the intact pillars and sat there, looking in disbelief over the ruins of Delphi. Will laughed, quietly at first but it quickly grew louder, and Nico and Clarisse joined in. They marvelled at their survival and laughed at their victory. They stopped only when they had to draw breath, and Nico turned to face Will.
“So, Solace, did you mean what you said?” Nico asked, his smile still on his face though his voice was somewhat hesitant, as if expecting a bad reply. “Or was it just a we’re-going-to-die thing?” Will looked over at him then and grinned sheepishly, pulling the smaller boy towards him and pressing his lips against Nico’s own. They separated after a moment, a grin still plastered on Will’s face.
“Does that answer your question, Di Angelo?” Will winked and Nico blushed. Clarisse rolled her eyes and busied herself making gagging noises. Will let his head fall back and rest against the stone pillar behind him. “We did it. We killed Python.” He said disbelievingly.
A bright flash of light obscured the world from their sight for a moment and the three jumped to their feet, weapons in their hands with the exception of Clarisse who balled her fists, ready to defend themselves. They relaxed when they spotted a young teen that could only possibly be Will’s double, only slightly older looking and more toned, walking towards them with a wide smile on his face and teeth shining as bright as the sun itself. The teen lunged forward and grabbed Will, embracing him in a hug.
“Thank you…” Apollo said. “I’ve watched your progress and I couldn’t be prouder, my son.” Will was surprised by the sudden contact from his father at first, but after a moment he returned the hug. After a long moment the two broke apart and Nico and Clarisse averted their eyes until Apollo turned to them and embraced the two of them too, surprising them both. Apollo turned his head to look at Nico when he had released the two and smiled. “I knew you’d achieve great things when I first met you, and I can now say with all certainty that I was right.” Apollo then turned to look at Clarisse and the smile didn’t leave his face. “And you, Clarisse la Rue – drakonslayer and now dragonslayer. You’ve made Ares a very proud father.”
“He’s been downright insufferable.” Another voice chimed in. Nico turned his head and looked past Apollo, surprised to see his own father walking towards them with a proud gleam in his eyes, with the god of war, Ares himself, not far behind. “It’s been hard to get him to shut up since you took down my brother’s renegade child, Halirrhothius.” Ares glared at Hades before he turned and looked appreciatively at his daughter, Clarisse, mirroring her pose with his arms crossed.
“I guess I was wrong when I said you’d amount to little, girl.” Ares said simply. Clarisse’s face flushed red with pride and she bowed to her father who nodded his head in response. Nico copied her movements and bowed to his own father. Hades smiled and placed his hand on Nico’s shoulder, beaming down on his son with pride. They stood like that for a moment and basked in the pride of their fathers before Nico finally spoke up.
“What happens now?” He asked, looking from Ares to Hades to Apollo, a questioning look in his eyes. They had slain the dragon Python and had finished their quest, but they had never planned for what would happen should they survive the deadly encounter. It was Apollo who answered.
“My father has pardoned me – that was the purpose of this quest, you see. The outcome of your quest would determine whether or not I was to blame for the Second Giant War.” Apollo explained. “Zeus decreed that if the Fates destined your quest to fail, then that would be an indication of my guilt. It’s only what you humans would call a suspended sentence, but it’ll do – my father isn’t known for his mercy, after all.”
“It’s time for you to go back to Camp Half-Blood now, Nico.” Hades said, the look of pride still on his face. “It’s time for you go to back to your friends and celebrate and get some very well deserved rest.” Nico nodded.
“I’ll summon Jules-Albert to get us back to Blackjack then.” Nico concluded, but before he could begin drawing on his power reserves, Hades cut in.
“That won’t be necessary.” Hades interjected. “The Pegasus has been returned to Camp Half-Blood courtesy of my brother.”
“And the chariot by my sister.” Apollo finished for him, a grin on his face. Will shared the smile for a moment before it faded.
“How will we get back to camp then?” Will asked, furrowing his brows in confusion.
“I’m sure something can be arranged.” Apollo answered, winking mischievously with a pair of keys twirling around his index finger, glinting in the sunlight.
*
They arrived back at Camp mere minutes later. Apollo left them at the camp border with an extremely cheery wave and a bright smile, and as a group the three headed on. They entered the camp battered, bruised, burnt, clothes torn, hair singed and smelling like firewood but very much alive. A loud cheer rang up when the three climbed to the top of a hill and the camp caught sight of them.
The camp fell on them in waves, easily closing the distance between them and the three atop the hill. Nico was pulled off his feet and hoisted onto Jason’s shoulders whilst the Apollo cabin seized Will and carried them above their heads to the centre of camp. Nico glanced over and saw that the Ares cabin was doing the same with Clarisse, loudly yelling “Dragonslayer!” with each step. The three were deposited before the campfire where Dionysus stood waiting, an expression of vague surprise on his face, with Chiron standing just behind him.
“Well, you’re back. You killed Python. Today, you secured the peace of Olympus and redeemed an Olympian.” He said, taking a moment to look at each of the three in turn. “I guess congratulations are in order.”
“And celebrations, too.” Chiron chimed in, much to the approval of the crowd of demigods who roared with joy in response. The camp broke into motion immediately – each demigod surged forward to congratulate the three before bustling off to help with the feast preparations. Nico rolled his eyes when Percy, Annabeth and Jason had congratulated them for the third time in a row and interlaced his fingers with Will’s. He shared a look and a smile with Will before he looked over at the bustling camp, thinking that if there was one thing the Greeks were good at, it was partying. For the first time, he could genuinely say he felt no worry or anxiety about the future – after all, now he had Will to help him through it, and Will had him.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [Finale]
Concerning Dragons [8]
Title: Concerning Dragons Chapter Title: In The Shadow of a Colossus Characters | Pairing: Will Solace, Clarisse la Rue, Nico di Angelo | Will/Nico [Solangelo] Summary: [The war with Gaea is over and peace has been restored - or so the campers would like to believe. While Gaea herself has been defeated, many of those loyal to her remain and threaten the fragile peace, and so once more the campers are called upon by the Olympian gods to slay the fiercest dragon to live and redeem a god fallen from grace.] Notes: Chapter 8 / ? Beta’d by my delightful friend mewsugarpudd.
It didn’t take them long to reach the city of Athens from the Hunters camp. The sprawling capital of modern Greece itself was positively alive and buzzing with energy even from a distance, and Blackjack neighed nervously as they flew closer. The three of them could guess why – the closer they got to Athens, the closer they got to the monstrous dragon that no doubt lay in wait for them at the ruins of Delphi, not to mention the hordes of monsters that lay between them and the end of their journey.
They landed smoothly and without incident. Will and Clarisse quickly unharnessed Blackjack who proceeded to curl up on the ground a small distance away whilst Nico surveyed the area. Judging by the lack of tourists, Nico gathered the mist had hidden their landing pretty well. He took a moment to allow his eyes to wander over the city and looked over towards the decaying ruin of the Parthenon. He tore his eyes away and turned his back on the ruin when Will began speaking.
“Well, I guess this is where we leave you, Blackjack.” Will wore a sad smile while Clarisse stood next to him with her arms crossed. “It’s not safe for you to go any further. Thanks for taking us this far, buddy. I’m sorry you got hurt and got caught up in our fights on the way.” Blackjack whinnied and flicked his tail, and Will got the impression that Blackjack understood him. The blond turned away from the resting Pegasus and looked first at Clarisse and then to Nico, a puzzled expression on his face. “Now then… how are we going to get to the ruins of Delphi? We can’t walk it, it’s way too far…”
Clarisse herself looked puzzled and vented her frustration by kicking a stone at a tree. Nico rolled his eyes and drew his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. Both Clarisse and Will jumped at the noise and then jumped again when the ground in front of them cracked and split open only to then be stunned into silence when a car rose up from the gaping maw which closed neatly under the tyres. Will and Clarisse looked to him for explanation but Nico simply ignored them, opened one of the passenger doors and clambered in. Will followed and recoiled in horror when he caught sight of the driver. Clarisse, who jumped in the front, didn’t so much as blink in surprise. Once Will had composed himself, he turned to face Nico.
“Any reason you’ve got a zombie chauffer, Di Angelo?” He asked weakly. Nico merely grinned.
“Perks of having a dad who rules the underworld, sunshine.” Nico replied, sparing a glance at Will’s face before he turned to face the driver, Jules Albert. “You know where we’re going. Avoid the motorways if you can, they’re probably going to be full of monsters waiting for us.” The zombie chauffeur nodded once before he put the car into gear and they drove off, the Parthenon shrinking behind them until it was little more than a small speck in the distance.
*
They drove for hours and the sun had already long begun its descent in the sky before one of them finally spoke up – they had spoken only briefly at the start of the journey to discuss the battle strategy for when they finally got to Python (not much was to be said on that front – the best they could hope for was to dive for cover and strike when they got the chance and pray to whatever god would favour them that they wouldn’t be incinerated) and since then the car had fallen quiet, with only the quiet music coming from the radio (courtesy of Clarisse) breaking the silence.
“How about a game to pass the time?” Will ventured into the quiet car. Clarisse groaned and rolled her eyes while Nico looked at Will with a raised eyebrow. “Alright,” Will turned and looked out of one of the car windows, squinting out into the fading light. “I spy with my little ey—“
The car shook violently as a boulder slammed violently into the ground just in front of it. The three of them jumped in shock whilst Jules Albert slammed his foot down on the brake and spun the steering wheel quicker than the three demigods could follow, expertly bringing the car to a skidding stop inches from the boulder. Nico took a moment to thank Hades for having the sense to gift him a driver with a history of racing before they jumped out of the car, narrowly avoiding another boulder.
“I spy with my little eye… another boulder!” Will yelled as he jumped to the side and rolled, a boulder crashing into the ground where he had been moments before. The three of them gathered their composure and looked to the source of the boulders, spotting the hulking behemoth of a monster silhouetted against the sun at the same time. Will drew his bow, nocked an arrow and took aim before he released the drawstring. He watched as the arrow soared through the air and found its mark, embedding itself deeply in the skin of the monster. The three of them stood in stunned silence as the monster was not reduced to a pile of dust but merely pulled the arrow out as if it were a wooden splinter and cast it aside before advancing slowly towards them.
Nico didn’t recognise the huge monstrosity and neither did Clarisse. Will, however, swore loudly and nocked another arrow on his bow, aiming it at the oncoming behemoth.
“Tityos,” Will said in answer to Clarisse and Nico’s silent question. “The would-be rapist of Leto that my dad and Artemis slew.” Nico and Clarisse swore at the same time and exchanged a grim glance between the two of them – demigods and monsters they could handle, a Giant was something else entirely: they needed an Olympian for that.
“And here I was thinking the journey here was far too quiet.” Nico thought aloud sarcastically and Clarisse, despite their seemingly helpless situation, grinned. Tityos roared at them before he broke into a charge, the very ground shaking beneath his heavy footfalls. The three of them steeled themselves in preparation, their weapons raised and ready though their faces were devoid of all colour.
“How do we kill him?” Clarisse asked, sparing a glance at the other two. Nico swallowed, hard, and gave her the answer they were dreading.
“We can’t without an Olympian.” Nico raised his stygian iron sword a bit higher while he wiped his brow free of sweat with his free hand. “The best we can do is trap him.”
“And how do you propose we do that, Di Angelo?” Clarisse replied, her recently-sharpened spear ready in her hands. Nico shrugged.
“Still thinking on that one, Clarisse. Give me a few minutes.” Clarisse rolled her eyes while Will nocked two more arrows onto his bow, taking aim at the incoming Giant. Their reflexes kicked in and the three of them dove in completely different directions at the exact same time just as Tityos reached them and swung a heavy club – a thick tree trunk more than five times the width of Clarisse’s torso and seven times as tall – down on the space they had occupied seconds before. Each of the Giant’s attacks were brutal, and more than once their reflexes saved them from what would have been a potentially deadly sweep of Tityos’s club. Nico cursed when one of the attacks brushed dangerously close to Will, who barely managed to dance out of the way of the wooden trunk in time. Clarisse backed away from a swipe, her eyes analytically sweeping over the giant’s body like a predator, hunting for weaknesses. She spotted a jagged-looking scar across the Giant’s chest and vaguely remembered one of Chiron’s lectures about this very Giant – something about having his livers picked out by vultures each night in Tartarus.
She clenched her teeth and reluctantly drew Halirrhothius’s dagger from its sheath at her waist and dove forward, weaving her way through the giant’s defences with a dancer-like grace that came from years of honing her body for fights exactly like this. She ducked under the Giant’s tree trunk and rolled forward, stopping just short of the Giant’s chest where she lunged with the dagger, sinking it deeply into the skin of the freshly-healed scar. The Giant roared in agony as the wound smoked and hissed from contact with the celestial bronze blade. With a heave of exertion, Clarisse pulled the dagger down and through the muscle tissue of the Giant’s chest, ripping the scar open afresh before she dove back, her damage done.
Will, seeing this new opening in the Giant’s chest, nocked an arrow on his bow and squinted against the sunlight, taking aim at the scar. He inhaled deeply and released the arrow, exhaling, and watched as the arrow soared through the air and once again found its mark – sinking deeply into the reopened wound on the Giant’s chest.
Tityos stumbled backwards, howling in agony and rage, and brought his hands to his chest, trying to grasp the small dagger and the arrow to try and rip them out. Nico, spotting his opening, stepped forward and levelled his sword at the Giant, drawing on the powers inherited from his father. He felt his face drain of colour and the temperature around him and Tityos plummet and felt a tugging in his navel before a wave of power swept over him and the ground cracked beneath the Giant’s feet. With a final yell, Nico released his power and the ground tore itself open beneath Tityos, who saved himself only by grabbing onto the ledge, his eyes looking desperately into the gaping maw of nothingness beneath him.
Nico advanced steadily towards the Giant desperately trying to pull himself up to safety, looking down at the beast without a hint of mercy in his eyes.
“This is for my friends.” He said, looking straight into the Giant’s eyes as he plunged his sword into Tityos’s hand. The giant howled in agony once more and released his grip on the rocky ledge, plummeting with a final roar of rage into the depths below before he disappeared completely. Nico stepped back as the abyss closed and turned to face the other two, surprised to find them staring at him. Will’s eyes shone with what Nico took to be admiration, noticing the boy’s eyes sweeping up and down his body whilst Clarisse looked on with a look of deep respect.
“Are you sure you’re not an Ares kid?” She asked, her arms folded and a grin on her face. “You’d make a damn fine brother.” Nico grinned and rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, damn fine…” Will muttered, glancing at Nico. Nico heard him and blushed, but held his head high and led the way back to the car where Jules Albert waited, unscathed, for their return. Clarisse stopped for a moment and felt at her waist before letting out a few choice swear words in English and Ancient Greek. When Will and Nico turned with raised eyebrows to ask her what was wrong, she snarled.
“I lost it, damn it! My war trophy, Halirrhothius’s dagger!” She stamped her foot in not-so-silent rage while Nico grinned and Will rolled his eyes.
“I’ll buy you a new dagger for Christmas, how about that La Rue?” He asked, throwing an arm around her shoulder and Nico’s and steering them towards the car. “Now come on, we’ve got a dragon to kill.”
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [Finale]
Concerning Dragons [7]
Title: Concerning Dragons Chapter Title: A Creeping Shadow Characters | Pairing: Will Solace, Clarisse la Rue, Nico di Angelo | Will/Nico [Solangelo] Summary: [The war with Gaea is over and peace has been restored - or so the campers would like to believe. While Gaea herself has been defeated, many of those loyal to her remain and threaten the fragile peace, and so once more the campers are called upon by the Olympian gods to slay the fiercest dragon to live and redeem a god fallen from grace.] Notes: Chapter 7 / ? Beta’d by my delightful friend mewsugarpudd. Sorry it took so long. I wrote more to compensate for the time.
The first thing he felt was the dull, throbbing pain absolutely everywhere, but strongest at his head. That was the first indication he was alive. The second was the bright light that burned when he opened his eyes, shutting them quickly and cursing at the pain. It gave Will some comfort to know that he was still alive and could feel, but he was pretty damn sure not even death was that painful; he felt like at any moment his head was going to be cleaved in half by the pain. He cautiously opened his eyes and attempted to sit up slowly, groaning and stopping when the pain spiked. His sight was blurred and slow to correct itself and when the blurry shapes finally became recognisable, he saw he was wrapped cosily in a white blanket in the inside of what he thought was a house until he noticed the walls were moving.
He sat up slowly again, ignoring the pain and protests from his back and joints, rubbing his eyes weakly before nursing his temples to ward off the agonising pain in his head. He weakly looked around the room which spun mockingly at his attempt and lowered his head, fighting back nausea.
“Push yourself any further and you’ll rip something. Stay down, doctor’s orders.”
Will looked up then and focused on the source of the voice. He couldn’t help the wide, albeit painful, smile that spread across his face then, replacing the grimace of pain that had been there moments before. Standing at the entrance of the tent, leaning on a support pole, looking slightly worse for the wear with bruises and cuts across his face and sporting a relieved smile, was Nico. Will was even more surprised when the smaller boy strode over to him and enveloped him in a crushing hug. Nico pulled away awkwardly after a few seconds and sat on the chair next to him.
“And when did you become a doctor, Di Angelo?” Will asked, grinning.
“I became a doctor when I half dragged, half carried my half dead friend to safety from an overgrown lizard with too many heads.” Nico replied, a victorious and even bragging smile on his face. Will gasped as a particularly large surge of pain hit him and he reached up, clutching his head. The smile fell from Nico’s face and the boy darted forward out of his chair in shock. “Are you okay?”
Will batted him away with one hand, managing a weak smile. “Fine, fine.” He said, unconvincingly. “Who saved us, anyway? From what I can remember, we were being overwhelmed by the hydra.” A dark expression crossed Nico’s features and the boy didn’t answer. Will took the hint and hastily moved on. “Where’s Clarisse? Is she okay?”
The dark expression on Nico’s face softened and Will heaved a mental sigh of relief. “She’s fine,” Nico replied. “A bit shaken after her fight, but fine.” Will nodded and examined himself in the brief silence that followed. The first thing he noticed was that most of his lower chest was bandaged. He experimentally touched an area of bandaged skin and winced in pain, no doubt from the bruising. He was relieved to find that when he performed a cursory examination he found no broken bones. Nico watched as Will ran a hand up his side, muttering a prayer to his father as he had done so many times before. When he finished, Will looked up at Nico.
“Whoever healed me did a great job of it, no broken bones or any fractures. Where are we, anyway, Di Angelo?” He asked, failing to notice the blush on the boy’s face at being caught staring. Nico quickly composed himself and answered.
“We moved while you were unconscious. You got carried,” Nico added when Will raised an eyebrow as if to imply Nico was incapable of carrying him. “We’re about two days travel from Athens and not that far from Delphi. Once you’ve recovered, we’ll be flying with Blackjack.”
Will looked curiously at Nico. “And how will we manage that? I remember our chariot being smashed to pieces against a tree. Mason’s going to kill me… he’d only just had it fixed, too.”
“Well, that’s—“
“—Where we come in.” Will noticed two things. One was the dark expression that returned to Nico’s face when the girl stepped inside the tent. The second was that the girl had a hardy expression and a commanding aura. She seemed almost familiar to him, but he reasoned that that was because he had grown up surrounded by people like her. It took him a few moments before he realised who the girl was.
“Thalia Grace?” He ventured, raising an eyebrow. The girl nodded and crossed her arms while Nico seemed to take great lengths to look anywhere but at her. “Well, I guess I’ve got you and the Hunters of Artemis to thank for saving us.”
“Thank us when you kill Python. We arrived ju—”
“—They got there just after you lost consciousness,” Nico interrupted in an almost accusatory tone, throwing a dark glance in Thalia’s direction that the girl ignored. “They managed to kill the hydra before it could finish the job.” Nico’s tone was bitter and he seemed to Will almost reluctant to admit that the Hunters had saved their lives. Thalia exchanged a tense look with Nico.
“We were ordered to track down the monsters that were following you and destroy them.” Thalia answered calmly. “We would have arrived far sooner if we hadn’t been delayed by stormy waters.”
“If you had arrived any later then he,” Nico gestured brazenly and accusatorily to Will, who shifted uncomfortably. “Would be dead.” Thalia narrowed her eyes.
“Then you should be thankful we arrived when we did, Nico di Angelo.” She said in a cold tone, then she turned from Nico to look at Will, who shifted uneasily under her gaze. “We’re giving you our chariot to use, seeing as yours was destroyed.” She continued as if Nico hadn’t interrupted her earlier. “That should get you to Athens but as you know, Blackjack can’t go any further than that without putting himself at risk.” Will nodded. With a final glare shared between the two, Thalia pulled back the entrance flap to the tent and strode out.
Nico sat back in his chair and heaved a sigh of anger, running his hands through his hair before resting his head in his palms. Will waited a few minutes before he spoke up.
“So are you going to tell me what that was all about or am I going to go grey with age waiting?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. Nico looked up and stared at him for a while before he answered.
“I’ve never really liked the Hunters,” Nico admitted, shrugging dismissively and lowering his eyes to the floor as if fearing Will’s judgement or reprimand. “Not since Bianca joined them and died just a few weeks later.” Nico’s voice faltered and Will could almost feel the loneliness radiating from the smaller boy. Will blinked in surprise – this was quite a change: from cold, hostile and confident in his behaviour to sad, introverted and unsure. He leaned forward and enveloped Nico in a hug, hiding a painful wince when his sides protested in pain, surprising the smaller boy. He couldn’t fully blame Nico for hating the Hunters of Artemis – if Artemis hadn’t fallen into that trap and needed rescuing, then Bianca would never have died. He was content to sit there for a few minutes in silence, listening to Nico breathing while he comforted him with the hug.
“I understand,” He soothed into Nico’s ear. “But they did save our lives, and it’s not Thalia’s fault your sister died, you know.” He combed a hand through Nico’s hair and felt as the boy sagged against him.
“You’re right.” Nico admitted after a while. “I’ll apologise to Thalia later…”
Will smiled and patted him on the back. “That’s the spirit.” They sat in silence for a few minutes more until they both seemed to realise the situation they were in and awkwardly separated, looking in opposite directions with a red dusting on their cheeks. The silence was broken when Nico glanced over at Will’s chest, looking at the bandages, and spoke up.
“It’s time to change your bandages, I think.” He said, moving over to a small box and pulling it towards him. Will shifted on the bed and shrugged the blanket off of him, laying down. Nico came over with a small wet cloth in one hand and scissors and fresh bandages in his other hand. He carefully cut the top bandage on Will’s chest, frowning in concentration, and peeled the rest away. Will winced when he looked down and so did Nico. His skin was raw and bruised and split in places. They both grimaced – Nico in revulsion and Will in pain – when Nico dabbed at the dried blood on Will’s stomach with the wet cloth, wiping it away. His actions were careful and slow, and Will couldn’t help but feel some gratitude for the slowness. Nico exchanged the damp cloth for a dry one and began drying Will’s chest.
“Did you watch us in the Apollo infirmary or something, Di Angelo?” Will asked. “You seem to know something about wound hygiene.” Nico spared a glance upwards and grinned.
“I learned from the best.” He answered. His hands lingered around a patch of healed skin and Will raised a playful eyebrow.
“If you wanted to check me out, Di Angelo, you should’ve just asked instead of changing my bandages.” He winked and laughed when Nico looked horrified and blushed a startling shade of crimson, a major contrast to his usual pale pallor. He bustled around quickly, securely wrapping the fresh bandage swiftly, but gently, around Will’s bruised abdomen and securing it with medical tape. He stood up to leave then and cast a final glance in Will’s direction.
“It’s my turn to keep watch now, get some sleep or I’ll have you sedated, Solace.” The two of them shared a grin. As Nico turned to leave, Will shot out and grabbed his arm, pulling him down and planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks, Dr. Di Angelo.” He grinned playfully. “I think I’ve been a bad influence on you.”
Nico froze with a hand on his cheek, his eyes wide. He turned to leave again but stopped on the entrance, looking back with a smile on his face.
“More of an influence on me than you know.” He said, and with that he left, leaving Will to lay back down and try to get some sleep.
*
Nico spent the next few hours next to a campfire, prodding the flames as he had so become accustomed to doing when pondering his thoughts. The flames flickered feebly in response to his prodding, sparking up occasionally. His thoughts varied and drifted from the quest to Hazel and to Reyna and he wondered how they were getting on, remembering his promise to send an Iris message to them at the first opportunity. He wondered about Will, then, and his thoughts grew hazy with confusion.
What were they, exactly? Friends? Judging by the comment Will made earlier and the apparent flirting he had been directing at Nico, they were clearly more than acquaintances. Was Will joking with him in some peculiar attempt at humour, or were his comments genuine and meaningful? Nico ran a hand through his hair and rested his head in his hands, leaving his discarded stick to burn in the flames of the fire while he thought, the cracking and splitting of the wood serving as a surprisingly soothing noise to him.
He didn’t know how he felt with the whole thing, if he was being brutally honest with himself. Only a few months ago – weeks, really – he’d been exposed by a delinquent God of love and had been terrified of being who he was. Jason had changed some of that, he reasoned. Jason had taught him that it didn’t matter what he was – the world he lived in now was different to the one he was born into, and no matter how out of place he felt, he’d have friends who would accept him for who he is. He was sure Will was one of those people like Reyna and Jason.
Clarisse sat down next to him abruptly which dragged him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to the side and nodded in acknowledgement to her before he returned his gaze to the fire.
“If you’re thinking about whether Solace means what he says and does, he does.” Clarisse said abruptly, kicking the burning stick in the fire with the tip of her boot, scattering ash and sparks in the air. Nico blinked in surprise and then disbelief, gazing at Clarisse as if she had sprouted a second head. How she had guessed, he didn’t know. He settled for it being her natural intuition – it had been pretty on point for the majority of the journey. He took a moment to compose himself before he spoke in reply.
“How you can be so blasé about these things amazes me.” He said, rubbing his temples to ward off a headache, a habit he had picked up from Will.
“Here I was thinking it’d be my telepathy that’d impress you, but sure, settle for my lack of subtlety.” Clarisse replied and Nico smirked.
“How’d you guess?” He asked, then when Clarisse raised an eyebrow, he added, “About me, that is, not Solace.”
Clarisse shrugged. “It was kind of obvious,” A wicked grin spread across her face. “What with you sneaking glances at him every few seconds when you thought nobody was looking.” She cackled when his eyes widened and he blushed in embarrassment. He didn’t think it had been that obvious – he hadn’t even realised he had been doing it until he quite literally caught himself staring. “Relax, Di Angelo. It’s not that obvious. I just have a good eye for these things.”
“And you’re fine with it all?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. A look of faint surprise and even annoyance crossed Clarisse’s face.
“Just because you were born in some backwater century doesn’t mean things haven’t changed, Di Angelo.” She kicked a twig into the fire and watched it burn with a smile. “People are a lot more tolerant now. Nobody cares if you’re gay, bi or whatever you are.”
Nico blinked in surprise. “I wasn’t aware there was more… things… you could be.”
“There’s more than you could possibly know, trust me.” Clarisse stood up then and patted her clothes down. “I’m going to get some sleep. You should try to get some, too, Nico.” She left him in peace then, to ponder their newfound friendship. Of all the people he had expected to become friends with during his life, Clarisse hadn’t been very high on the list – they both seemed to be polar opposites at first glance, but he soon realised he’d gotten what he deserved for judging a book by its cover, or in this case a child of Ares by their tendency towards violence. Nico wasn’t sitting alone for long, as Thalia dropped into the space Clarisse had vacated, as if she had been waiting for Clarisse to go. Her presence was different to Clarisse’s – Clarisse had a surprisingly calming influence when she wasn’t in a frenzy. Thalia, on the other hand, had a charged presence, causing the hairs on Nico’s arms and the back of his neck to stick up as if expecting a lightning strike. It served as a warning, he reasoned, that the wrong words or the wrong actions could easily trigger Thalia’s anger.
“Let’s talk, Di Angelo.” Thalia said before falling silent and offering nothing more. Nico sat, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t and the air began to grow awkward, he spoke up.
“About what, Grace?” He ventured in an attempt to diffuse the tension.
“How about we start with the obvious problem – your sister.” Nico tensed and seemingly so did the air around him, as if warning him to remain quiet until Thalia had finished speaking. “Look, we both know that her death was an accident and she died the way we all want to – like a hero.” Thalia glanced up at the sky, mapping out the stars. “She died too young but she died happy, Di Angelo. The last thing she did before she died was make a giant robot dance. I bet Jackson didn’t tell you that, did he?” She looked over at him then, her expression softening. After all, he was still quite young and he had lost his only living relative – with the exception of his half-sister Hazel – at an even younger age. Nico shook his head.
“No. I guess it slipped his mind.” He replied, his eyes returning to the fire and watching the flames flicker mildly in the evening air.
“I may sound harsh when I say it, Di Angelo, but in the end it was her choice to become a Hunter.” Thalia returned to looking at the stars. “We all know the risk when we pledge ourselves to the hunt and we do it anyway. Bianca knew that and so did I when I took the oath too. She died living the life she wanted to live – you can’t begrudge her that, or blame her comrades for her death.” “Anyway,” She patted him on the shoulder awkwardly before she stood and began walking away, calling over her shoulder, “La Rue is right, you should get some sleep. You look half dead. I’ll get Marianne to cover your watch.”
Nico rolled his eyes before calling out his thanks to Thalia’s retreating form before he turned back to the fire and sighed. That night had certainly given him a lot to think about – Will’s apparent attraction to him and whether or not he reciprocated it, Clarisse’s friendship and a discussion about his dead sister with the last person he expected to talk to about her. He massaged his temples again, desperately trying to fight off an oncoming headache before he took Clarisse and Thalia’s advice and headed to his own tent, pitched next to Will’s in case the Apollo medic needed assistance, and turned in for the night. He was almost surprised that he fell asleep nearly instantly when his head touched the pillow. Almost.
*
Will rolled onto his side and cracked open a weary eye, shielding himself from the sunlight filtering into the tent only to jump in slight surprise to find Nico sitting directly opposite him, wide awake and sifting through a leather-bound book in his hands. Ignoring the smug grin on Nico’s face, Will cautiously sat up and stretched precariously, happy to find he wasn’t met with pain from his bruises – his father must have followed through on his late night prayer. He made a mental note to make an offering to him when – if – they returned to camp. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Nico admiring his handiwork and smirked. Nico rewarded Will’s smirk by throwing a clean shirt and clean pair of pants at him.
“Go get a shower or something, Solace.” Nico wrinkled his nose. “You reek.”
Will grinned and slowly eased his way out of his bed. Though Nico looked deep in thought with his book, he could tell the son of Hades was ready to spring from his seat at a moment’s notice to catch him – he could tell by the slight crease in the boy’s brow. He admired that about Nico, really, how the boy was always ready to defend his friends. He took a few moments removing the bandages covering his chest and admired his father’s handiwork, pleased to find no bruises remained. Nico looked similarly pleased.
“You love me really, Di Angelo.” Will winked but headed to the front of the tent regardless. He threw a glance and a mischievous smirk back at Nico. “Care to join me?”
Nico rolled his eyes and turned a page in his book. “Dream on, sunshine.” Will grinned but didn’t press the subject further and left the tent without another word. After being pointed in the right direction by a Hunter, he quickly located the secluded and quite well-hidden stream and stripped down, lowering himself cautiously in to the water, careful not to knock any of his recently-healed bruises and cuts. He leaned his head against a low-hanging rock and heaved a sigh of relief before he inhaled deeply and dove under the water, running his hands through his blond locks to rid them of flecks of dirt, dust, dried blood and even bits of soot and ash. He resurfaced a short while later and cleaned himself quickly before he simply sat back and looked up at the sky, gazing at the moving clouds.
His mind wandered to camp and he wondered how they were doing and whether they knew just how close the three of them had come to death already, and they weren’t even there yet. He thought of Jake Mason, who would no doubt kill him if he survived for breaking the chariot they had only just repaired. He thought of his siblings who had been reluctant to take his place in the quest – not that he held it against them, he would have done the same – and wondered if they believed he would return or not. He prayed it was the former. Then he was brought out of his wondering by the thought of Annabeth, and he looked around wildly. Hastily, he reached across from the stream to his discard pants and reached around inside a side pocket, practically ripping a golden drachma out of the seams. He looked around equally wildly until he spotted what he was looking for – a slight drop in the stream with cascading water – and swam towards it, tossing the drachma through the small rainbow that had formed there.
“O Iris, Goddesss of the Rainbow, accept my offering.” He watched as the drachma disappeared the moment it passed through the iridescent rays of the rainbow. “Show me Annabeth Chase.” Annabeth’s face flickered into view through the rays of the rainbow and Will adjusted himself to get comfortable, leaning against a rock in the water. She had her back to him and was clearly busy, bent forward over a giant table in what Will guessed was the Athena cabin. He took a moment to take in the various maps and scrolls strewn across the top of the table before he got her attention. “Chase, I’m reporting in as asked.” Annabeth jumped and turned around with a startled look in her eyes but inhaled and quickly regained her composure.
“Solace.” She glanced at a clock behind her. “You’re a day behind schedule. What kept you?” Then she seemed to take in his appearance and raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest. “Are you even wearing any clothes?”
“Yeah, uh, about that,” He scratched the back of his head and grinned sheepishly. “I’m kinda taking a bath right now – don’t worry, you can’t see anything – and we’re behind schedule because we got attacked.” Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline and, Will was convinced, off her head completely. A new look of surprise and alarm crossed her face.
“Attacked? By who?” She asked.
“A jumped-up demigod with a grudge against Ares, an overgrown lizard with too many heads and bad breath, a load of vampire ladies and a lovely guy called Dr. Thorn.” He answered, watching with some sense of dark amusement at the expressions that crossed her face.
“The Manticore?” She asked, disbelievingly. When he nodded, she added, “Well, I guess it was about time he reformed… he went for Nico, didn’t he?” Will nodded. Annabeth didn’t look surprised. “Where are you now?”
“We’re about a day’s travel from Athens, we’re heading off soon I think. After that, we should be at the ruins in two days at the mo—“ His head snapped to the side as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and stood up. He glanced around the area, so still he may as well have been paralysed and deathly silent. After a moment of nothing but the sounds of the rushing stream, he turned back to Annabeth who had a concerned expression on her face but remained silent. “Sorry… thought I heard something.”
“Be careful, Solace. You may have more monsters on your trail.” She checked the clock on the wall again. “You better be going. Contact me when you get to the ruins.” With that, she swiped her hand through the image of his face and ended the call. Will sighed and ran a hand through his dripping wet hair before he swam back over to where his clothes lay abandoned and climbed out, drying himself quickly with the towel he had brought with him before slipping into the clean clothes Nico had thrown at him.
He got back to the campsite and was greeted by the sight of Nico and Clarisse standing in front of a jet-black chariot securely harnessed to Blackjack. He brushed a wet lock that fell into his eye to the side and walked towards the two. He noticed the chariot was already packed and all their bags were accounted for, looking slightly bigger and heavier than before. Thalia emerged from one of the tents carrying another bag and joined him in his walk to the chariot, filling him in on the way.
“The Gods aren’t strictly allowed to help during this quest, but that restriction doesn’t apply to us so long as Lady Artemis isn’t here.” Will smirked – that explained why the goddess was absent. “We’ve refilled your supplies and we’re even giving you our chariot to complete your journey to Athens.” They stopped in front of the chariot and she handed the rucksack in her hand to him “Do me a favour, Solace? Don’t destroy this chariot.”
Will smiled, his white teeth shining in the sunlight, and jumped onto the back of the chariot, dropping the extra bag next to the others. Clarisse clambered on behind him but Nico paused and turned to Thalia.
“Look,” He began, extending a hand out to Thalia. “I’ve been a jerk to you and I’m sorry.” Will was surprised by the sudden apology and so too was Clarisse and the hunters. Thalia’s expression, however, remained unchanged until she grabbed Nico’s hand with her own and shook it, a small grin on her face.
“We’ll never exactly be the best of friends, but it’s good you don’t hold a grudge Di Angelo.” She said and then she walked back to her Hunters and took her place among them, clearing Will and the others for take-off. “Good luck. You’re gonna’ need it.”
The three of them looked back once and raised their hands in farewell before Will took the reins in his hand and with a quick whip of the reins they were airborne again. The campsite quickly shrank to nothing while the grey speck in the distance that was Athens grew steadily larger. Will glanced behind him once and took in Nico and Clarisse’s confident expressions before he turned back to the front of the chariot with a new sense of confidence setting in.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [Finale]
Concerning Dragons [6]
Title: Concerning Dragons Chapter Title: A Violent Encounter Characters | Pairing: Will Solace, Clarisse la Rue, Nico di Angelo | Will/Nico [Solangelo] Summary: [The war with Gaea is over and peace has been restored - or so the campers would like to believe. While Gaea herself has been defeated, many of those loyal to her remain and threaten the fragile peace, and so once more the campers are called upon by the Olympian gods to slay the fiercest dragon to live and redeem a god fallen from grace.] Notes: Chapter 6 / ? Beta’d by my delightful friend mewsugarpudd.
The next few days passed without incident with not even a glimpse of a monster, and Nico didn’t like it. He had a bad feeling echoed by the other two and even Blackjack, who seemed more alert than usual. He’d voiced his suspicions to the others the previous day.
“Something’s wrong,” he had said whilst they had been flying over a large patch of land. Will had looked up from his position sat opposite Nico with a raised eyebrow and a curious expression. Clarisse had looked over her shoulder for a brief moment from the reins at the front of the chariot. “We haven’t been attacked in days now. It’s not right.”
“What did you expect, Di Angelo?” Clarisse had said over her shoulder. “Solace killed the Manticore, they’ll have scattered now.” Nico shook his head.
“I don’t think that’s true. Think about it,” He had reasoned. “Thorn said he had a master in all this, so he’s not the only one. They haven’t attacked in a while because they’re regrouping for a big attack.”
“Either that or they’re waiting in ambush along our route.” Will had said, casting a nervous glance ahead of them as if expecting a group of monsters to appear out of nowhere and attack them.
Nico was snapped out of his daze when the chariot veered sharply to the side, buffeted by a powerful gust of wind. He barely had time to regain his balance before the chariot was flung upwards by another gale of wind, Blackjack whinnying loudly in fear. Clarisse was hurled from her position at the reins, her grip broken and flew past Nico and Will and off the chariot. Their reflexes kicking in, Will and Nico’s hands shot out at the same time and gripped Clarisse by her sleeves, both heaving in exertion as they pulled her back on. Will fought his way through the fierce wind to the front of the chariot and gripped the reins, fighting to keep control.
Nico dared a glance over the side of the chariot and saw nothing but dark, stormy water thrashing around violently in waves that he had no doubt would drag them to the bottom of the ocean if given the chance. Will yanked the reins to the left and Blackjack obeyed, pulling them out of the way of a large wave that had rose out of nowhere, trying to knock them out of the sky.
“We’ve got to land!” Clarisse yelled, just audible over the howling wind. Rain battered their faces and obscured their vision and they barely managed to avoid another killer wave. Nico shielded his eyes and spotted a dark patch ahead of them.
“There!” He yelled back. Will followed the direction of Nico’s hand and nodded, whipping the reins and spurring Blackjack on. The closer they got to land, the lighter the wind became and the calmer the waters grew. Will spurred Blackjack into their descent and Nico heaved a sigh of relief – they’d escaped the freak storm intact, they had to be thankful for that.
A wave of water slammed into the side of the chariot and the three and Blackjack yelled in alarm. They capsized in mid-air and the three were flung out, instinctively bracing themselves as their demigod reflexes took over. They heard a loud crash and a piercing shriek of pain that was undoubtedly from Blackjack and in unison they looked towards the source. The chariot lay in pieces that were scattered across the wooden clearing they had crashed in and Blackjack lay on his side, struggling frantically to escape from under a tree that had snapped and fell on him. Nico climbed to his feet, as did the other two, and they ran towards Blackjack to try and free him. Before they could reach him, another wave of water whipped around them before it solidified into ice, forcing them to stop in their tracks.
They spun around and Clarisse barely managed to raise her shield before a wave of water slammed into her, knocking her clean through the air away from Nico and Will. Nico and Will exchanged a look before they ran forward, stopping when a monstrous, serpentine head bore down on them, snarling and snapping viciously at them, smoke rising in a steady column from its mouth. Another head swung around towards them, dripping a foul-smelling green substance from its mouth that hissed and smoked when it touched the floor. Nico cursed and pulled Will out of the way.
“It’s a Hydra!” He yelled, pulling Will out of the way again as one of the heads spat acid at them. Will rolled his eyes.
“You think?!” He yelled back sarcastically, levelling his bow at one of the heads and drawing an arrow. “What’s a Hydra doing here? They can’t control water like that!” Nico shrugged and ducked a torrent of fire from one of the heads.
“Percy killed a Hydra. Guess it wants revenge on us.” He suggested, slicing at a head that ventured far too close for his liking. He took care not to behead it – he knew how problematic that would be. He glanced over his shoulder to where Clarisse lay, limply getting to her feet by using her spear as a support. She was battered and no doubt bruised, cuts lined her body and she stood with a limp in her left leg. She took a firm hold of her spear and levelled the point towards the river that ran alongside the wooden clearing. Nico followed the point of the spear to the patch of water and watched with a sense of alarm as a figure rose out of the watery depths. Clarisse seemed to recognise him for she cursed loudly and crouched into her battle stance. Nico didn’t recognise him, and neither did Will, though he guessed the man was one of Poseidon’s children as not a single droplet of water clung to him despite having just emerged from a body of water. The man was holding an elegant-looking blade that curved along the edge, forcing Nico to wonder whether the blade was made of water. He eyed a sheathed dagger at the main’s waist.
“Guess it’s my turn, boys!” Clarisse yelled. Will span around and released his bowstring, launching an arrow at the man as he stepped onto land. The man didn’t even blink as he caught the arrow with his hand, snapping it in two in his grip and dropping the fragments into the water behind him. Nico blanched and felt a pang of fear – if this guy was as strong as Percy was, then they were in trouble. Will’s eyes grew wide as he drew another arrow, aiming it at the man’s head.
“Who is this guy, Clarisse?” Will shouted, jumping backwards to avoid one of the Hydra heads.
“Halirrhothius,” She yelled in response, jabbing her spear in the air threateningly. “Son of Poseidon.” She smirked at the man then and Nico couldn’t help but think her mad. “Wasn’t Ares murdering you enough? You want more?” She taunted. Halirrhothius leveled her with a bored expression.
“You share the same levels of idiocy as your father.” He said, his voice gentle and then violent, quiet then loud, reminding Nico of the ocean and its volatility. The man raised his sword then and lunged at Clarisse almost too quickly for Nico to follow with his eyes. He was forced to look away when one of the heads of the Hydra dove at the, spewing fire while another spewed acid and a third head snapped at them.
Nico dove and dodged and weaved and slashed and sliced but the Hydra seemed to predict his moves before he had time to execute them and countered them perfectly. Too many times he had slashed his sword at an exposed head only to have it turn to him at the last minute and release a jet of fire or a torrent of acid that he had barely managed to dodge. His clothes were ruined and his skin was lined with various burns – inflicted by both acid and fire – and the ground around them lay in ruin: smoking holes dotted the landscape while small fires grew into larger ones, spreading across empty patches of grass.
Will was doing no better: his quiver was half-empty now and he had resorted to running forward to retrieve his arrows, only to nock them on his bow and launch them seconds later to force a Hydra head away from him. The two were growing more and more desperate and relying more and more extensively on their demigod reflexes, their tactics and actions being foiled by the Hydra perfectly, move for move. A particularly slow response left a deep gash on Will’s cheek that spewed blood angrily and he only just managed to dance out of the reach of an open-mouthed head that tried to snap at him with its vicious teeth. He turned as Nico swore loudly and watched as a separated serpent head rolled away from the main body and cursed as well.
“Don’t behead them!” He half-yelled, half-reprimanded. Nico swore at him in what he guessed was Italian.
“I know, I know! It got in the way.” Nico yelled back angrily, ducking as the two new heads swooped at him at the same time. Nico looked up as a particularly loud clash of metal on metal drew his attention and watched as Clarisse raised her shield to parry another vicious slash from the Half-Blood bearing down on her. He once again tried to rush forward to her aid but was knocked off his feet when a Hydra head crashed violently into his side. He hit the ground and rolled, the wind knocked out of him and Will dove forward, bombarding the heads with a volley of arrows to keep them away. Nico inhaled, his lungs and chest burning, before he forced himself to his feet and dove back into action, fighting to ignore the pain from his many wounds.
One of the larger heads snarled and picked up the tree trunk trapping Blackjack and spun around violently, launching the trunk at them. Nico dove into Will, knocking him out of the way just barely in time to stop them both being crushed. They rolled when they landed and the Hydra roared in anger, charging at them. They rushed to their feet just in time to avoid one of the hydra’s legs trampling them. Nico hacked and slashed at the exposed flesh and the beast roared in pain, releasing a jet of fire and wave of acid at him. He dove out of the way but some of the fire grazed his back and he yelled, feeling some of the skin being burnt away by the searing flame and cursed as he landed. Will rushed forward and gripped his arm, pulling him out of the way of another jet of flame before he yanked him to his feet, sweating and panting fiercely. Nico spun around and stood back to back with Will as the Hydra surrounded them with its heads menacingly.
“What do we do, Solace?” He asked desperately, feeling the sweat from the heat and his exertion trickling down his forehead, coupled with the blood from his injuries. He blinked away red as a trickle of blood fell into his eye and obscured his vision. Every part of his body ached with pain and he could barely keep his grip on his sword and barely draw enough breath into his lungs. “We need fire to destroy this thing, and we don’t have any!”
Will froze and glanced over to where small fires had been burning on the grass, only to flinch when he saw nothing but smoking burnt patches. He cursed loudly – the Hydra had trampled the fires, extinguishing them as if expecting the two to try and use the fires to destroy it. He thought bitterly to himself, as he avoided another attack from a Hydra head, that monsters certainly did learn from their mistakes, even if it did take them a few times.
A loud crash drew their attention and they looked over in time to see Clarisse hit the ground, her shield knocked out of her hand and cast to the side. She rolled onto her front and crawled desperately towards her fallen spear and Nico and Will sprinted forward, their weapons ready, to defend her. The Hydra got their first and blocked their route, roaring, snapping, snarling and blasting a jet of fire and acid at them. They jumped backwards, only narrowly avoiding the attack and they both swore – Will in Greek and Nico in Italian. Will watched helplessly as Halirrhothius beat Clarisse to her spear and kicked it far out of her reach before he kicked her onto her back and crouched, pressing the bare blade of his sword against her neck, the cold steel biting into the skin and drawing a faint trickle of blood.
“Are you ready to die, daughter of Ares?” He asked with a wide grin on his face. Clarisse spat at him and he flinched, wiping her spit from his face and pressing the blade harder into her neck. “I’ll take that as a yes. Any last words?”
“Yes: you forgot one thing.” Clarisse began, smirking up at him. Halirrhothius raised an eyebrow before he smirked victoriously.
“And what would that be?” He asked mockingly, pressing the sword harder down into Clarisse’s neck, drawing more blood.
“Never let an Ares kid near your weapons.” Clarisse snarled and with a yell she wrenched the dagger free from its sheath on Halirrhothius’s waist and buried it deep in the side of his unprotected temple. Halirrhothius’s eyes grew wide and he convulsed, blood pouring from the wound before he collapsed limply on top of Clarisse, his grip failing and releasing the sword. With another yell, Clarisse heaved his body off of her with her knees and pushed him to the side, retrieving the dagger from Halirrhothius’s corpse and climbing weakly to her feet. She retrieved her spear and limped towards them but froze, her eyes growing wide in alarm and fear. Nico shouted a warning and Will spun around but was too slow. One of the heads slammed into his side, knocking the wind from him and breaking his grip on his bow, knocking it clean out of his hands. He spun violently, trying desperately to brace himself as he arced high in the air but to no avail. With a yell of pain before the wind was driven from his lungs, he slammed into a tree and bounced off of it, landing in a heap on the ground, trying but failing to draw breath into his lungs.
Darkness quickly began obscuring his vision and the pain he felt grew number and number. He saw a faint grey blur approaching from the distance and a pang of fear filled his numb body – another monster joining the fray – then his vision failed. He faintly heard the desperate tones of Clarisse and Nico as they screamed his name through the fading heart beat pounding in his ears before they, too, faded and darkness claimed him.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [Finale]
Concerning Dragons [5]
Title: Concerning Dragons Chapter Title: An Old Foe Characters | Pairing: Will Solace, Clarisse la Rue, Nico di Angelo | Will/Nico [Solangelo] Summary: [The war with Gaea is over and peace has been restored - or so the campers would like to believe. While Gaea herself has been defeated, many of those loyal to her remain and threaten the fragile peace, and so once more the campers are called upon by the Olympian gods to slay the fiercest dragon to live and redeem a god fallen from grace.] Notes: Chapter 5 / ? Beta’d by my delightful friend mewsugarpudd.
They travelled swiftly across the land, the cities of Brazil passing like blurs beneath their chariot with Clarisse at the reins again. Nico looked up from his position at the back of the chariot and watched as Will sorted through their backpacks and bags, a frown on his face. Nico raised his eyebrow curiously as he watched, concerned at the son of Apollo’s expression.
“Something wrong, Solace?” He asked, drawing the attention of the other boy. Will frowned and returned his attention back to the bags after a moment. Nico didn’t like the look on the boy’s face and prepared for the bad news that was sure to follow.
“We’re low on supplies.” The boy said as he emptied the contents of the last uncounted backpack and began to sort through them, counting aloud. “Ridiculously low. If we’re gonna’ make it to Python without starving to death, we’re going to need to make a pit stop and buy food.” Nico’s stomach dropped. Going into the cities was definitely a bad idea, considering how popular they were with monsters.
“Couldn’t you just go hunting?” Clarisse asked over her shoulder, not taking her eyes off the reins. Will scoffed and rolled his eyes, grabbing each individual can and tin of food and stowing it neatly back into its respective backpack, taking great care not to lose any or drop any over the side of the chariot.
“With my aim?” He countered. “Then we’d definitely go hungry. No, we’ll have to make a stop soon.” He stood up after tidying the contents back into the backpack and took his place at Clarisse’s side, tracking their progress on the map and consulting the compass. He looked up once to survey the land around them, narrowing his eyes to try and focus on certain distinguishing landmarks. He raised his hand and pointed to a growing bulk in the distance just ahead of them. “There. Take us down there, Clarisse. We’ll get supplies and keep going after that.” Clarisse nodded once and Blackjack whinnied in acknowledgement, already beginning their descent to the city below. They landed without incident or injury and after ensuring Blackjack would be safe in the enclosure Clarisse had chosen, they set off for the nearby town, ensuring their weapons were concealed by the Mist.
*
They spent as little time as they could in each shop and only encountered a problem when it came to paying for the items. Nico doubted very much they would accept Drachmas, but before they could do much more, Clarisse had waved her hand in front of the shopkeepers face and said simply, “We’ve already paid.” The shopkeeper nodded dumbly and allowed them to leave with the food. Nico felt a pang of guilt at essentially stealing from an innocent man, but he reasoned their quest was important enough to mandate stealing.
Will mimicked Clarisse’s action, a focused expression on his face. “These are not the droids you are looking for.” He said in a deep voice, struggling to suppress the smile on his face. Nico missed the reference but Clarisse laughed and knocked Will playfully with her shoulder. The hair on the back of Nico’s neck stood on end while Will and Clarisse joked around and he strained to hear whatever may be around them. He threw his arms out, dropping the food around him, and shoved Will and Clarisse to the ground before he himself dove to the side. He turned his head and spotted three vicious spikes embedded in the ground where they had been just moments before. Clarisse quickly jumped to her feet, her spear already in her hands and leveled at the emerging figures. Nico and Will got to their feet too – Will notching an arrow on his bow and Nico unsheathing his sword from its position at his waist.
Several Empousai emerged from the bushes surrounding them and formed a semi-circle behind them, cutting off their escape route. Clarisse shot a look over to Will and grinned when the boy muttered: “Of course, it had to be Empousai.” Nico rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on his sword and stepped closer to Clarisse and Will, placing his back to theirs to cover all angles. The two mimicked his movements, their heads only turning when a new figure emerged.
He was tall, that much was obvious, and dressed in a simple suit. His hair was graying, with only small patches of black still visible and his eyes were mismatched and heterochromatic. With a jolt of surprise, Nico recognised the man and lowered his sword momentarily in shock. The man seemed to recognise Nico too, for his eyes lit up in delight and he clapped once in excitement.
“Excellent, the one I was looking for.” He began. “I’ve been looking forward to killing you since you slipped away the first time, son of Hades.” A few of the Empousai behind them hissed. Nico raised his sword again threateningly and pointed it at the man who took a single look at his sword and laughed. “There’s no insufferable son of Poseidon or inebriated Olympian to save you this time, Nico di Angelo.”
“What the hell’s he talking about, Di Angelo?” Clarisse muttered, jabbing her spear towards one of the Empousa who had ventured closer to the three. The girl fell back with a hiss, looking ready to rip Clarisse apart. “You know this freak?”
Nico nodded. “Vaguely. He was the one that tried to kidnap me and Bianca and take us to Atlas.” Nico pointed to the spikes ahead of them with the tip of his sword. “His handiwork – he’s the Manticore of Persia, Dr. Thorn.”
Thorn had advanced closer during their hushed conversation and now stood only a short distance away, a sadistic grin on his face. “I’ve looked forward to killing the son of Poseidon, but I’ll settle for you instead, Nico di Angelo. How could I have rejected our master’s offer when it involved killing you and getting revenge on the gods at the same time?”
Thorn grinned a final time before his body and its limbs grew outwards, bubbling and twisting and pulling itself into a new shape. Fur and vicious, shark-like teeth replaced skin and humanoid teeth whilst a pair of velvety, bat-like wings grew outwards from the creature’s back and a scorpion tail sprouted outwards, curving around with a vicious looking spike at the end of it, pointed directly at Nico.
The Empousai attacked at the same time as Thorn, their actions perfectly timed and synchronised. Two Empousai fell at Will and Clarisse’s hands immediately but they were quickly overwhelmed by the vicious, vampire-like women who clawed and kicked at them, driving the three apart and isolating each of them. Nico narrowly ducked a swipe from Thorn’s talons and stabbed with his sword towards the Manticore. Thorn deflected Nico’s sword with a swipe of his claws and leaped at him, roaring, before the full weight of the Manticore slammed into Nico’s weaker abdomen.
Nico was knocked off his feet and, cursing his slow reflexes, jumped to his feet quickly, barely managing to block the beast’s follow-up attack. Thorn clawed, bit and leaped randomly, distracting Nico and forcing him on the defence – the Manticore was definitely not like the demigods Nico had sparred with: Thorn wasn’t sticking to a pattern and so prevented Nico coming up with a counter strategy.
Nico swore loudly as a searing pain spread along his leg and he looked down to see a spike protruding from his thigh. His stance weakened and Thorn leaped again, knocking the boy over and kicking the discarded Stygian iron sword out of his reach. Nico looked over to Clarisse and Will desperately, unable to move – his legs were numb now, and try as he might they wouldn’t move – and saw that they were equally occupied with multiple opponents each. Each had their back to him and he panicked, pulling himself towards his sword. Thorn stopped him by rolling him over onto his back and grinning down at him.
“I expected more of a son of Hades. How disappointing.” Thorn raised a clawed paw as he prepared to strike. Will shouted in alarm which distracted Thorn for a moment. Nico saw out of the corner of his eye as Will spun on the heels of his feet like a skilled dancer and watched, as if in slow motion, the blond pull two arrows out of his quiver and notch them on his bow. The blond pulled his bowstring back and released it and the three of them – Thorn, Nico and Will – watched as the two arrows soared at them. The first arrow soared cleanly past Thorn and Nico’s heart and stomach dropped. Then the second arrow embedded itself deep in the skin of the Manticore’s neck. A look of faint surprise crossed Thorn’s features before he exploded in a cloud of monster dust, the arrow falling to the ground and resting atop the small pile.
With a victorious yell and a snarl, Clarisse drove her spear into one of the remaining Empousa and braced herself against the cloud of dust that followed with her shield. The other girls turned and fled and Clarisse started to give chase.
“Clarisse, no!” Will called and Clarisse stopped in her tracks, glancing wildly from Will to the retreating Empousai, a look of wild desperation in her eyes. “We’ve got to help Nico – I can’t move him on my own.” Clarisse swore and kicked one of the piles of ash into the wind in anger but she remained where she was, not giving chase to the Empousai. Will placed his bow on his back and ran over to Nico, examining the spike embedded in the boy’s leg.
“Can you feel anything, Di Angelo?” Will asked, moving his hands gently across the bloodied wound unflinchingly. Nico shook his head and Will began muttering a prayer to Apollo. Clarisse watched from beside Nico, her spear ready in her hand should the monsters return. Will soon removed the spike from Nico’s thigh and the wound knitted itself together under Will’s careful touch and his prayer. He helped Nico gingerly to his feet, catching and supporting the younger boy on one side, Clarisse on the other, when his leg buckled under his weight. “It’s okay, Nico, we’ll get you to camp. Don’t put weight on your leg yet, you might reopen the wound, the prayer I did was only basic.”
Nico disliked putting them in his situation but reluctantly allowed them – it was either accept their support or crawl back to the camp. With Clarisse and Will supporting him on opposite sides, he limped slowly back to camp, taking great care not to put too much weight on his injured leg. Blackjack and the chariot came into view after a short time walking, neighing and pawing at the ground nervously, tossing his head frantically around the clearing as he kept an eye out for monsters. At their approach, he rushed forward with the chariot attached to his back and swung it around. Will patted him appreciatively and he and Clarisse lowered Nico carefully onto the back of the chariot.
“I’m fine,” Nico said. “Really, it’s not that bad.” When they remained unconvinced, he rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration. “I’ve had worse injuries than this, believe me. This is just a flesh wound, I’ll be fine.”
Will shook his head. “You’d have been fine if I made the first shot, Di Angelo. You could’ve died if I hadn’t used a second arrow.” The boy crouched and examined the pink skin of the closed wound carefully, running his fingers across it and muttering under his breath.
“Shut it, Solace.” Clarisse scolded him coldly, her arms crossed and a stony expression on her face. “You keep whining about sucking at archery but you’re a fine archer. Talent isn’t genetic or given by your dad, it’s earned, you moron.” Will looked up at her in surprise, stunned into silence. Clarisse turned her gaze on Nico. “How did you know that Manticore?” She asked, breaking the awkward silence.
Nico glanced up at her. “It was just before Percy and the others brought me and Bianca to camp. We’d been in this military school and the Manticore posed as a teacher there called Dr. Thorn. He got sent by Kronos to capture me and Bianca because he needed children of the Big Three to complete the prophecy, but Percy, Annabeth and Thalia got in his way.” Nico sighed, remembering the night vividly. “I guess he wanted revenge for failing to get us.” Clarisse and Will exchanged a dark look and Nico raised an eyebrow.
As Nico talked and Clarisse listened, Will ran his fingers over the pink skin on Nico’s thigh. The skin under his touch blotched and changed colours slowly until it resembled the skin around it and the medic stood up, stretching, with a satisfied expression on his face.
“You’ll be fine now. I reinforced the healing I did – you should be able to stand on it now.” Will threw out his arm and pushed Nico back down on the chariot when he made to stand up. “But not now, obviously.”
Clarisse jumped onto the chariot and took the reins. Will settled opposite Nico and Blackjack took them out of the clearing at a blinding pace, keen to get away from the scent of monsters. They spoke only when they had put a considerable distance between themselves and the enclosure.
“So Solace,” Clarisse began. “You think they were the monsters Artemis warned us about?” Will shook his head but remembered that Clarisse could not see him from the front of the chariot.
“Not a chance.” He answered simply. “The Hunters would’ve caught the Manticore if it were just a few Empousai with him. No,” He twirled an arrow in his hands absentmindedly. “I think we can expect to run into a few others.” Clarisse spared a glance over her shoulder at Nico, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“Well, if that one had a grudge against Di Angelo here then it seems like we’ll be coming across monsters with grudges against us or our godly parents.” She said, with a slight hint of amusement in her voice.
“Dad doesn’t have that many enemies, really.” Will commented. “Unless you count a handful of jilted lovers, the Giants, Titans and a murderous dragon.” Clarisse snorted. “What about you, La Rue? Who do you think’ll be coming after you?” Now she was laughing.
“I’ve lost count of how many enemies I’ve got and how many my dad’s got.” She adjusted her hold on the reins. “Could be anyone or anything after me. Could even be an army.” She added, somewhat sarcastically. The three of them shared a laugh before Will turned to Nico with a serious expression on his face.
“You need to get some rest now, Di Angelo. Let the healing do its job.” He said sternly. Nico obediently curled up on the back of the chariot, figuring it was best not to argue with the medic. He let his mind wander, listening and catching vague snippets of conversation between Will and Clarisse before the slight rocking of the chariot as it was buffeted gently by wind currents sent him soundly to sleep.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [Finale]
I need YOU to write some Solangelo.
Hey, remember when we were planning to do a Solangelo Anthology for Solangelo Weekend?
Well, there’s apparently only been 10 submissions so far! We’ve got more beta volunteers than we have fics. Check out the guidelines and start writing some Solangelo! You’ve got until July 10th to whip up something you want to share with people. Check out the anthology’s blog for more information or if you want to see what questions other people have had. You can also contact rehmuslvpin, bailci, malkuthehighwind, and myself with questions/concerns.
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Good luck!
Concerning Dragons [4]
Title: Concerning Dragons Chapter Title: A Gift from A Goddess Characters | Pairing: Will Solace, Clarisse la Rue, Nico di Angelo | Will/Nico [Solangelo] Summary: [The war with Gaea is over and peace has been restored - or so the campers would like to believe. While Gaea herself has been defeated, many of those loyal to her remain and threaten the fragile peace, and so once more the campers are called upon by the Olympian gods to slay the fiercest dragon to live and redeem a god fallen from grace.] Notes: Chapter 4 / ? Beta’d by my delightful friend mewsugarpudd.
As it turned out, the route was as complicated as Nico had feared. When they had veered sharply to the right in mid-air, Nico had bolted up and steadied himself by gripping a rail on the side of the chariot. Blackjack whinnied sheepishly while Nico nudged Will out of the way to look at the map, tracing their path with his index finger, and what he saw did not amuse him.
“You’re joking.” Nico said in disbelief. “You’re taking us through all of these places and yet you still insist that it’s faster than shadow travelling?”
“Faster, no.” Will countered, nudging Nico out of the way and reclaiming his position at the front of the chariot. “Better for your health, yes. Now sit down Di Angelo, or I’ll get Clarisse to tie you to the side of the chariot.” Nico reluctantly gave in and returned to his seat opposite Clarisse who snorted in amusement. Nico threw her a look and watched her sharpening her spear for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. He wondered why she kept doing that and why she looked so determined each time she did so.
“What’s it like being a daughter of Ares, Clarisse?” He asked. Clarisse paused for a moment before she continued sharpening the point of her spear with renewed vigour.
“What’s it like being a son of Hades?” Clarisse countered, drawing sparks from the tip of her spear with her whetstone. Nico palmed the pommel of his sword and rolled his eyes.
“Between the death and the darkness? You can’t get much better, believe me.” Nico replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Clarisse snorted in amusement, dragging the whetstone up the edge of her spear’s blade, sharpening it.
“Fair enough,” She began. “It’s a pain being an Ares kid sometimes, mainly because boys are preferred over girls, like usual.” She drew a particularly large spark from the tip of her spear with her whetstone as she said this. “I guess it’s easier for you. You’ve just got that Roman sister of yours to put up with.”
“That’s true, but you don’t have to worry about being turned into a flower every time you visit your dad.” Nico replied, blushing vividly when Clarisse cackled in delight, no doubt picturing Nico as some sort of dainty dandelion or sunflower. He joined in with hers and Will’s laughter after a moment. Clarisse paused in sharpening her spear and examined Nico, a faint level of surprise registering on her features. She could scarcely believe that the laughing boy in front of her was the same boy that had raised an army of the dead and confronted Kronos face-to-face when so many other campers had turned and fled or waited for Percy to leap in first. Her eyes flickered to Nico’s exposed arm and recognised the faint, but wide, white markings there as scars. She placed her spear on the floor and gestured to the scars with her free hand, tossing the whetstone up and catching it in her other hand.
“How’d you get those scars then, Di Angelo?” She asked. Nico glanced at the scars once before he grabbed his shirt sleeve and lowered it to cover the white markings. Nico took a moment to ensure they were completely covered before he turned to look back at Clarisse and answered her.
“An overgrown mutt called Lycaon gave them to me when I was transporting the Athena Parthenos.” Clarisse raised an eyebrow at the mention of Lycaon. She had heard some of the stories passed between the campers after the statue had been returned, how the Roman Praetor and Nico had fought the King of the Lycanthropes. “He got as good as he gave, specifically a silver knife in the heart.” Clarisse blinked in surprise. She hadn’t heard that part from her siblings.
“I’d heard Lycaon was hard to kill, but to think you actually managed it…” She whistled appreciatively before she picked up her spear again and resumed her sharpening of the point. “Not bad for a son of Hades.”
Nico rolled his eyes dismissively. “Lycaon was nothing compared to the Drakon you killed in the Battle of Manhattan.” He gave Clarisse an appraising look, taking in each detail of her features before he proceeded. “I heard you charged at it without any armour and just your spear and you killed it without a scratch on you. Now that’s impressive.” Clarisse had the decency to blush, and blinked in surprise at the unexpected compliment.
“Let’s hope Clarisse’ll treat us to a repeat performance when we meet Python.” Will spoke up from the helm of the chariot, throwing a glance over his shoulder and grinning. “Else we’ll be going back to Camp Half-Blood as barbecued demigod slices.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” Clarisse said. A growing speck in the distance caught her eye and she stood up for a better look, shielding her eyes from the sun. She stood still for a moment before she spoke up. “That’s definitely land. Looks like we’re nearly there.” She raised her arm and waved it through the air and Nico once more felt a subtle shift in the space around them as Clarisse covered them with the Mist to hide them from prying eyes.
“Thanks sunshine.” Will spoke up, winking at Clarisse as he began to ease Blackjack and the chariot into a steady descent. Clarisse snarled back at him.
*
The sun had almost set when they finally landed to set up camp. Clarisse had spotted an enclosure of trees and bushes that provided decent cover from prying eyes and Will had put them down shortly after. Almost the moment he was free and watered, Blackjack whinnied before he sat down and promptly fell asleep. They had made periodic stops to allow him small rests, but they had never stayed down for more than an hour of fear of being attacked by local monsters or losing too much time. Now they sat around a fire Will had started. Nico stared into the flickering flames and thought on the day’s events and what lay ahead of them whilst Clarisse continued sharpening her spear and Will tightened the string on his bow.
“So, Solace,” Clarisse began, slowly dragging the whetstone up the edge of her spear. “That little battle with the Empousa – you don’t swing that way, huh?” She laughed. Nico snapped out of his daze, still wondering what the meaning of that phrase was. He studied Will’s reaction, noticing the faint blush on the blond’s freckled cheeks. “When’d you first figure it out then?”
Will took a moment to further tighten his bowstring, securing it to each end of the bow and examining his handiwork before he answered her. “Years ago, I guess. Michael and Lee helped me figure it out, actually.” He paused for a moment, realising what he had just said before he shook his head and resumed inspecting his bow. Nico recognised those names, though it took him several moments to recall the faces and match them to the names. It took him a further moment to realise that both of the boys were dead.
“Helped you out in what way?” Clarisse quizzed, raising an eyebrow. Will dismissed her implication with a flick of his wrist.
“Not like that. They were just there for me and talked me through it all. They helped.” Will shrugged. He raised his bow and pulled the string back, testing the strength of it. Nico’s attention wavered as the two continued talking, catching a vague snippet of Clarisse complaining about not having anything to stab with her spear. A cold sense of alertness filled him as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled in alarm. His hand moved to the pommel of his sword as he glanced around the clearing, careful not to attract the attention of the other two who were bickering again. He had the distinct feeling he was being watched. A slight movement ahead of him drew his gaze and he spotted a young-looking girl leaning against a tree, half concealed by shadow and foliage. The girl raised her hand and gestured for Nico to follow, before she turned away from him and disappeared into the trees. Nico debated for a moment before he stood up, drawing the attention of the other two.
“I’m going for a walk.” He announced, already walking towards where the girl had been. “I won’t be long.”
“Watch out for Empousai, Di Angelo.” Clarisse called after his retreating back, snickering. “Wouldn’t want to be rescued by your boyfriend again, would you?”
Nico glanced over his shoulder and smirked sarcastically. “I can think of a good place to stick that spear, La Rue.” Clarisse’s face fell in shock while Will doubled over in laughter, dropping his bow as he clutched his sides. Nico left in pursuit of the girl before Clarisse could compose herself and reply. He could almost hear Jason scolding him for following a suspicious-looking girl through a secluded forest on his own, but he dismissed the thought, knowing that Jason would probably have done the same in his situation.
Nico pushed foliage aside and stepped through a particularly large clump of bushes and spotted the girl ahead of him, having slowed her pace to allow him to catch up. He wondered who she was, and only began forming an idea when he noticed that the wildlife seemed to part before her, clearing her path and actively avoiding both her and him. The girl stopped when they entered another clearing and turned to face him. Despite having only seen her once before, Nico immediately recognised the raven-black hair and silver eyes of Artemis and bowed his head immediately.
“Forgive me for the deceit and for leading you away from your campsite, but it was necessary, Nico di Angelo.” She began, sitting down on a fallen log. Nico spotted a silver bow strapped to her back and a silver quiver at her hip. “You probably do not remember me. I am—“
“—Lady Artemis, I remember you.” He raised his head. “How can I be of service?” Artemis dismissed his question with a lazy wave of her hand, her eyes piercing straight through him and giving him the impression she was peering into his very being.
“It is not a question of how you can help me, but rather how I can help you.” She said. Nico raised an eyebrow – it was unusual for any god to help mortals willingly. “It may not surprise you to hear that my father has forbidden any and all interference with your quest, and the only reason that I am here is because my brother could not be.” Nico crossed his arms and leaned against a tree, studying Artemis from a distance. The goddess seemed to register the confusion Nico felt. “My brother has relayed information to me concerning Python.” Nico perked up, focusing completely on her words now. “Specifically concerning the weaknesses Python has.”
“And what are these weaknesses?” Nico asked. The fear he had felt concerning this quest diminished – Python had weaknesses. At last, their quest started to look achievable.
“Aside from the obvious ones – the eyes, the throat and the stomach – there is only one other weak spot.” Artemis began. “Python’s scales are heavily armoured and protect the majority of its body, but one of the scales has been… damaged.” Nico raised an eyebrow. “My brother’s handiwork the first time he slew the beast. The plate, he tells me, is located on the beast’s neck and that if you truly hope to kill the beast then that scale should be your target.”
“Shouldn’t that scale have healed when Python reformed?” Nico questioned. Artemis smiled.
“Not quite. My brother was a lot more volatile when he was younger and he placed a curse on the arrow he used. This curse prevented the scale from healing and reforming with the rest of Python. Your best hope of success is to strike the beast in this weakened area with one of my brother’s arrows.”
As if answering Nico’s unasked question, Artemis drew an arrow from her quiver and held it up in front of her for Nico to inspect. It was gold in colour and seemed to glow with a dazzling brightness, like a solidified ray of light carved into the shape of an arrow. He walked forward and accepted the arrow from the goddess, noticing how it felt warm in his palm and seemed to hum with energy. At his touch, the light coming from inside the arrow faded and disappeared and the metal grew cold. He looked from the arrow to Artemis.
“I’m guessing they can only be used by a child of Apollo… or you?” He asked. Artemis nodded and Nico sighed, stowing the arrow safely in the back pocket of his pants.
“I must also warn you, Nico di Angelo, that your quest has not gone unnoticed in the world.” She drew her cowl over her head, partially obscuring her eyes and stood up, preparing to leave. “You are being tracked.” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “By who, I do not know. My hunters are attempting to intercept them but so far they have failed. I would guess that it is one that harbours a grudge against Olympus and seeks to preserve Python – with the Earth Mother’s downfall, the serpent remains one of the only ones strong enough to challenge the gods. Tread carefully, and good luck.”
Nico bowed his head as she left the clearing. He let his mind wander, wondering who they could be being tracked by and how they had picked up their trail so quickly. He shook his head after a moment and headed back the way he came.
*
Clarisse raised her spear at his approach, only lowering it to the ground again when he stepped out from behind the bushes. He looked from the tip of the spear to her and smirked.
“You weren’t planning on stabbing me, now, where you?” He asked, walking over and sitting next to the fire again. Clarisse sighed.
“I wanted to stab something. Couldn’t you have been a monster of something?” She asked jokingly, dropping her spear to the ground.
“If what I’ve just been told is true, we’re going to have no shortage of monsters in the near future.” Nico began. Will looked up curiously from his bow while Clarisse narrowed her eyes. To answer their unasked question, Nico added: “I’ve just spoken with Lady Artemis in a clearing back there. She says we’re being tracked by a group of monsters, but she doesn’t know who and her Hunters haven’t been able to stop them yet.” Will and Clarisse exchanged a look.
“And what else did she tell you?” Will asked, placing his bow on the ground and crossing his arms, waiting for Nico to continue. The worried look on his face had returned, though he attempted to suppress it, but to no avail. In response, Nico pulled out the arrow Artemis had given him.
“This is one of your father’s arrows,” He started. Will’s eyes darted to the arrow and widened whilst Clarisse looked confused. “He gave it to Lady Artemis to give to us. Apparently it’s the only way to kill Python – we’ve got to hit Python’s weak spot with this arrow and it’s a guaranteed kill.” Clarisse looked even more confused and held out her hand for the arrow.
“Weak spot? I didn’t think Python had a weak spot.” Nico glanced over to her and handed her the arrow, observing how the arrow did not change for Clarisse either.
“It does.” Nico pointed to his neck. “Python’s covered in armoured scales that would stop all but the sharpest weapons, but Apollo’s arrows—“
“—Caused permanent damage and prevented the scales from healing when Python reformed.” Will finished for him. Nico looked over with a raised eyebrow, as did Clarisse. “It’s not the first time dad has used these before.” He accepted the arrow from Clarisse who held it out to him and flinched when the arrow flashed with a bright light and began humming with energy. “He used them in the Trojan War… not these ones, but diseased ones. Same thing, really. They stop all healing, even if the monster is destroyed… I didn’t think they existed back then… dad killed Python just days after his birth.”
Clarisse jumped up. “So we’ve got a way of killing the thing then?” She exclaimed, a bloodthirsty excitement creeping onto her features.
“I guess so.” Will admired the arrow for a moment before he reached over his shoulder and placed it in his quiver. The arrow slotted in as if it was made especially for his quiver and the light emanating from it subsided, as did the energetic humming. “Suddenly this quest doesn’t seem so impossible, huh?”
“Don’t get too excited.” Nico cut in, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword as he had become accustomed to doing. He began listing the things Artemis had told him. “We’ve still got to worry about the usual – Python’s fire, venomous teeth, razor-sharp talons and sharpened tail.”
“Fun.” Will exclaimed sarcastically, burying his face in his hands and groaning. Clarisse, on the other hand, looked even more excited.
“Shut it, Solace, that is fun!” She picked up her spear and began sharpening it with renewed vigour. “Makes the final fight all the more fun.” Will raised his head from his hands and exchanged a dark look with Nico.
“I’ve got an idea – we send her in first. If Python’s got any common sense, they’ll run the other way.” He whispered. Nico grinned. Will copied Clarisse’s actions and began drawing out individual arrows from his quiver and sharpening their tips with a smaller whetstone that Clarisse threw over to him. Nico watched curiously. “Sharper weapons have got a better chance of breaking through the scales, right? We can’t rely on the arrow dad gave us… if we miss that shot then we’re screwed.” Will answered.
Nico nodded in understanding. “I’d do the same with my sword, but it’d probably break the stone before it sharpened it.” Clarisse looked up and at the sword strapped to Nico’s waist.
“Is that Stygian Iron, Di Angelo?” She asked, her eyes focusing on the black blade of his sword. Nico nodded. “Can I see it?” Nico unsheathed his sword in a single movement and gently handed it to the waiting Clarisse. She turned the blade over in her hands, admiring each groove on the blade before she tested its weight in her spear hand. “Not bad for a sword,” Clarisse remarked. “I still prefer spears though.” She handed the sword back to Nico, who sheathed it once more at his waist.
“Who do you think is tracking us, then?” Will spoke up questioningly while he sharpened his normal arrows. The Arrow of Apollo remained sheathed in his quiver, wrapped securely in a cloth to hide it.
“One of your dad’s enemies, maybe?” Nico ventured, watching the flames of the fire. Will made a dismissive gesture.
“Most of dad’s enemies died in the war and haven’t reformed yet or went into hiding when we defeated Gaea.” Will countered. “The only one with any measure of strength is Python and they’re not moving any time soon.”
“Maybe it’s a monster with a personal grudge against one of us?” Clarisse suggested, drawing a particularly large spark from the tip of her spear with her whetstone.
“Well that rules out most monsters considering we’re not called Percy Jackson.” Will joked and the three of them shared a laugh. Blackjack whinnied in his sleep as if he was sharing their laughter. The three of them settled soon after and decided to try and get some rest for the long day of travelling ahead. Nico alone remained up and sat at the fire, stoking the flames to keep it alive and healthy. He wasn’t sure what time it was or how long he had been up and he was only brought out of his musings when Will sat next to him.
“Can’t sleep, Di Angelo?” Nico nodded. “Is it because of Tartarus?” He asked. Nico’s head whipped around in shock and Will raised his hands defensively. “Annabeth told me before Jackson woke you up in the infirmary. She said I should expect nightmares, I’m guessing she was speaking from experience. That’s why I added anaesthesia to your medication, to help you sleep.”
Nico’s surprised expression faded and he looked back at the fire. “Yeah, it’s Tartarus.” He answered, before quickly changing the topic. “Why aren’t you sleeping, Solace?”
“Anxiety.” Will shrugged dismissively. “Kind of hard to sleep when you’ve got a giant dragon waiting for you at the end of the journey and a bunch of monsters hunting you down already when we’re not even a quarter of the way there. I’m starting to wonder if we’re meant to come back from this quest – what if it’s just a way of punishing my dad? Give him some false hope then—“
“—It’s too late to turn back now, and thinking like that’s guaranteed to get you killed.” Nico interrupted, prodding the flames with the tip of his sword. “Besides,” He countered. “We’ve got a girl who’s killed a Drakon single-handedly and a skilled medic with an arrow designed specifically to kill the overgrown lizard. I think we’ll do fine.”
Will’s expression softened for a moment before he slung a hand over Nico’s shoulder and drew him in close, much to Nico’s surprise. “You’re right.” Will said, staring into the flames and smiling. “Just try and get some sleep, Nico. Tartarus is gone, and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.”
Nico didn’t fight the contact for once but he instead relaxed into Will. With the warmth of the fire on one side and Will’s warm touch on the other, Nico soon began to feel drowsy and fought to keep his eyes open. He was surprised when he opened his eyes again and found himself looking up at the stars, wrapped up in his sleeping bag. He threw a furtive glance around, searching for Will and spotted him lying next to him, asleep, and Clarisse not far away. Feeling somewhat content for the first time in a while, he allowed his head to drop back down and closed his eyes.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 [Finale]
I can't wait for your next chapter of Concerning Dragons!!!
Neither can I <3