Chapter Text
The beach smelled of salt and calm.
Percy squinted against the morning sun, sand cool beneath his feet. Gone was the scorch of past battles, the remnants of frantic struggles and spilled blood. The tide lapped gently at the shore, steady and reassuring, carrying away old worries with the rhythm of its waves. Even the faint traces of the dragons’ first frantic flights and scuffles had been smoothed over, leaving only footprints and memories.
Beside him, Phobos, Deimos, and Enyo shifted uneasily on the sand. The dragons were quieter now, older somehow, but still mischievous—curious, alert, alive. Phobos nudged Percy’s leg with a spark that hissed softly against the sand. Deimos tilted his head, wings fluttering, eyes scanning the distant horizon. Enyo floated near Percy, glowing faintly, her hum resonating in his chest like the quiet heartbeat of the world.
“I guess this is it,” Percy murmured. “Last time here… at least for a while.”
He looked up at the sky. The sun glinted off the water, turning the waves to molten silver. The world seemed calm, impossibly so, as though even Olympus had held its breath and let the moment pass unscathed.
Ares stood a little way off, bronze armor gleaming, spear planted firmly in the sand, stance relaxed but still impossibly tense. Percy could tell the war god was struggling with the unfamiliar sensation of not being in command. He had expected fury, aggression—but what he saw instead was curiosity and an almost reluctant respect.
“You enjoying the calm?” Percy asked, keeping his tone light.
Ares’s jaw tightened. “Peace is… unfamiliar,” he admitted, voice low, grudging. He knelt down, running a finger through the sand. When he straightened, something small glinted in his hand—a bronze token shaped like a flickering flame, warm beneath his fingers, faintly humming.
Percy raised an eyebrow. “You left this behind… for them?”
Ares’s glare softened ever so slightly. “For them. They survived because you kept them alive. You did what I could not.”
Percy touched the token gently, feeling the heat seep into his palm. “I made sure it lived. Just like them.”
The dragons stirred at the gesture, Phobos nudging Percy’s side, Deimos chirping softly, Enyo brushing his shoulder with her wings. Percy laughed quietly. “Yeah, you’re all alive. Safe. And you get to stay that way.”
Ares grunted, standing again. He glanced at Percy. “Do not forget—I am still watching.”
Percy smirked. “I know. Supervised visitation.”
Ares’s lips twitched, almost a smirk of his own, then he turned and started walking along the dunes. “I will learn from them. Observe. Not command. For now.”
Percy watched him go, then shifted his attention back to the dragons. They were circling lazily, tails flicking, wings brushing the sand and catching the sunlight like molten metal. He reached out, letting a hand drift across Enyo’s shimmering scales. The dragon leaned into his touch, humming softly—a sound that felt like approval, reassurance, and a promise all at once.
“Not bad, huh?” Percy murmured. “They’re… amazing.”
Phobos leapt onto a driftwood log and let out a small roar. Deimos snatched a handful of sand, tossing it toward the water like it was confetti. Enyo hovered above, eyes glowing faintly, calm but watchful. Percy chuckled. “Yeah. Totally amazing. And chaotic. And fire-breathing. But mostly amazing.”
He sank onto the cool sand, feeling it sift between his fingers, grounding him. All the councils, all the arguments, all the chaos—this was what it had been for. Safety, freedom, choice. Life.
The tide shifted, and Poseidon emerged from the water, waves curling around him as if he had been there all along. Percy straightened instinctively, heart catching at the sight of his father. Poseidon’s eyes were the calm blue of the deep ocean today.
“You’re here,” Percy said, standing.
Poseidon nodded, letting the seawater drip from his cloak. “I always am, when needed. I see you’ve managed… remarkably.”
Percy gestured toward the dragons. “Yeah. They’re… alive. They chose their path. They chose me.”
Poseidon’s gaze followed the dragons, slow and deliberate. “And that is why you did not tell me or Chiron immediately. You feared someone would try to command them. Perhaps even force their nature.”
Percy shrugged, a little guilty. “Maybe. But we made it work. And they’re safe. For now.”
Poseidon nodded. “If Ares ever steps out of line—”
Percy nodded firmly. “I’ll call. Immediately.”
Poseidon’s lips curved in a rare, approving smile. “Good. That is all I ask.”
The ocean god glanced at the three dragons, his hand brushing the surface of the water in rhythm with their movements. “You have done well, my son. Even the gods… make messes. It is the demigods who get to clean them up.”
Percy let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah. We do, don’t we?” He looked back at the dragons, wings glinting, eyes bright and curious, and felt the weight of it all settle into a comfortable certainty. “You guys are… perfect, in your own ridiculous, fire-breathing way.”
Deimos chirped and flapped his wings. Phobos hissed and nudged Percy’s leg. Enyo’s hum vibrated against his chest.
Percy leaned back onto the sand, letting the sun warm his face. He thought about the councils, Zeus’s lightning, Hera’s sharp judgment, Athena’s cold logic, and Ares’ grudging acknowledgment. About Chiron’s disappointment, Percy’s own stubborn defiance, and the quiet bravery of the dragons.
Gods made messes. Demigods cleaned them up. And somehow, somehow, there was beauty in that.
The tide pulled in closer, foaming at the edges of their toes. The sand was cool, the sea calm, and for the first time in a long while, Percy felt certain that some things—freedom, choice, loyalty, love—could survive even the chaos of Olympus.
He pressed the bronze token into the sand, letting it warm under the sun, a quiet reminder of survival and acknowledgement, of battles fought and choices made.
Ares’ presence lingered in the dunes, silent but watchful, a reminder that even gods could change—slowly, reluctantly, without apology. Percy watched him go, then turned to the dragons, letting his fingers trail along their scales once more.
“Let’s go home,” he said quietly, voice steady, filled with a calm certainty.
The dragons chirped, fluttered, and bounded beside him. Percy smiled, taking a deep breath of sea air and salt wind, letting the moment sink in.
Gods made messes. Demigods cleaned them up. And sometimes, just sometimes, they got to watch the world settle into peace—even if only for a little while.
And for now, that was more than enough.
Fin