Chapter Text
Valeska was eating radishes in the kitchen, staring straight at him in defiance of his ‘no eating out of the tub rule’. He huffed and strode towards her in an attempt to grab the packet, only to realise it was empty and he needed to ask the Demeter kids for more radishes.
Gods damn it.
He had a plan - for the demigods, not the radishes. He needed to gain the leaders' trust, but that would take time, and that was precious time he didn't have. He wanted to be back to Beacon Hills in the next week with new allies.
He sighed in despair, resigning himself to winning a gruelling duel of honour or something ludicrous like that, but for now, he needed sleep.
He gestured for Valeska to follow him to bed. They were both quite content sharing a bed, and Stiles knew they would probably wake up in a tangle of limbs, yet he could not bring himself to care.
As he sunk into the memory foam mattress, he was relaxed by the calming presence next to him. The stars danced and the trees swayed as the camp retreated into the shadow of the moon.
*
Morning dawned once again, the sun clawing its way over the horizon in its never-ending chase for the moon.
Stiles sometimes felt like that.
Before he found a definite goal of his own, he was so sure that he was going to be stuck chasing power forever, like his father before him. He decided he was going to fight hard to meet his old friends again. He wasn't sure for a while, purely because he didn't know if they deserved the danger that he would risk them being near him. He had his fair share of doubts and to be truthful they only stopped after Tartarus died. He realised that only a very foolish person would harm the friends of one of the most powerful people ever, and if they did then they would enjoy lifetimes of torture at the hands of many.
He was not naive enough to believe that they would never find out, he had known that since he decided to inform them of his existence; no, he worried about how they would find out.
What first impression would this person give of him? Would the person crack him open as if he were an egg and spill the secrets he kept close to his chest, forming them into a grotesque omlet of self doubt and anger and make his friends eat his lies; or would the person tell them the truth, tell them that that he is just a man with a tendency of homicide and magic.
There was no use in spending time pondering what could be, when only the fates could control that.
His ensuing sigh was loud enough to wake Valeska, who rolled over to face him, purely to glare at him hatefully before she rolled back over with a groan and fell asleep again. Even in sleep, she looked positively angelic. He regretfully dragged himself out of his warm bed, into the bathroom.
After a short shower, he emerged from the bathroom just in time to witness Valeska bringing Cassandra to the bedroom.
He sighed when he saw the devious smiles that adorned their faces and their hurried whispers, before surrendering himself to dealing with whatever happened next.
Valeska giggled, obviously agreeing with something that Cassandra had said - which was probably a joke at his expense because even though Cassandra was literally part of his mind, body, soul and magic; she lived to bring him down a few notches, particularly when it clearly wasn't needed or warranted.
“What does my dearest Cassandra have to say about me this morning that has you giggling like an axe-wielding maniac on cocaine?” Stiles leaned against the doorframe as he stared accusingly at his snake, who was innocently curled upon Valeskas’ shoulders, and was looking at him with impossibly wide eyes, (Who knew snakes could do puppy eyes? Cause he certainly didn’t.).
“Cassandra was simply relaying her opinions on your outfit, Red. She thinks it needs to be more… identifying.”
And that's how Stiles Stillinski, Ruler of the Pit and Master of Monsters was undressed from his perfectly acceptable all-black outfit, and stuffed into an outfit featuring far more blood red than he thought was probably socially acceptable.
***
The uneasy atmosphere that heralded from ‘Reds’ arrival yesterday was still prevalent at breakfast the next day.
Everyone looked to Percy Jackson and the seven for guidance, but they seemed equally at loss of how to act around him.
The low thrum of chatter quickly ceased when Red and his girlfriend (wife???) and snake approached the dining pavilion.
Red, quite appropriately, was dressed in a black button down shirt, tucked into a deep red pair of trousers, matching to the accompanying blazer. Although it seemed formal at first glance, many campers noticed how flexible the fabric appeared, and took note of his ability and welcomeness to fight.
Valeska was wearing a blue satin shirt and long black trousers, paired with a pair of heeled combat boots. She had her sleeves rolled up, and the faint outline of her muscles could be seen if one looked past the snake draped on her shoulders.
Overall, they appeared intimidating. Or rather, they would have if Valeska was not creased over in laughter at Cassandra's comments about Stiles.
“She called you a raggamuffin!” She burst into peals of laughter at Stiles' unimpressed face and went to speak again before she was interrupted.
“Valeska, if you and Cassandra make another joke at my expense I won't ask the Demeter kids for more radishes.” Stiles smirked and Valeska grinded to a complete halt in pure shock.
“You wouldn't” Her voice was disbelieving, and she turned to face the dining pavilion with a look as if to say, ‘Can you believe this bastard?’
A hundred eyes blinked owlishly back at her, and she seemed to make up her mind as she suddenly bolted in the direction of the Demeter kids.
“Away, you three-inch fool! I shall not stand thy negativity” She shrieked in his general direction before finally reaching her destination of the Demeter table and crashed onto a bench beside Katie Gardner.
“Please don't let him take away my radishes” She whispered conspiratorially to the table table, “I can't live without them, surely you understand” Katie nodded empathetically and patted her hand.
“I will grow them for you myself” Katie seemed understanding of her compromising position, and vowed to give her as many radishes as she could.
“Saviour! Thank you.” Valeska smiled at her before turning to where Stiles was still standing, frozen in what one would assume was shock.
He turned to face the main table, where Percy and his friends were sitting and asked, “Did she seriously just…” Jackson nodded in sympathy, before gesturing to a seat left on the table.
“I think we have a few things to talk about, Mr Red.” Stiles smiled and approached the table. “Please Percy, just call me Red, and yes I do believe so.”