Chapter Text
Chiron is looking out over the strawberry fields, watching the campers and satyrs work together in harmony. With deft fingers, they pick the ripe berries from their stem and place them gently in small wicker baskets. One of the satyrs makes a joke, which makes three of the campers surrounding them laugh.
The small moments shared between campers helps make everything worth it to Chiron. He had seen a lot in his life, but the moments of joy birthed at Camp Half Blood make the dark times seem a bit more light.
A ruckus over by the fire pits ruses Chiron from his thoughts as he glances towards the disturbance. Two of his favorite pupils, the son of the Sea God and the daughter of Wisdom, were arguing again. But an argument between the two best fighters within the camp weren’t just words, they were a battle of wit and skill. Both were knowledgeable with multiple weapons, but the most dangerous one was their passion.
Percy is gesturing his arms wildly, occasionally dragging a hand through his inky hair. Annabeth has her hands on her hips, her chin jutted out in defiance. Chiron doesn’t miss how Annabeth’s right hand is creeping to the knife located at her hip. Their fights have ended in them pointing weapons at each other, but Chiron knows neither of them would hurt the other too seriously. Even if they hated each other, they respected the other as demigods enough to know they were important to the camp.
A laugh from behind him makes Chiron look over his shoulder to see Grover walk past the porch of the Big House with Juniper. Grover is talking animatedly, using his hands as he talks. Juniper is listening, her cheeks tinged the tiniest bit green.
“Grover!” Chiron booms, interrupting their conversation. Grover looks up dutifully, and sees Chiron waiting for him. With a quick goodbye, the satyr approaches the centaur. “Percy and Annabeth are fighting again.”
Grover follows the centaur’s line of sight and sighs quietly. “It appears so.”
The satyr is friends with both of the demigods, closer to Percy but still a good friend of Annabeth. He knew how they hated each other. The record for them being in the same room without fighting is lower than anyone thought possible.
“They disturb the camp almost every day,” Chiron mutters. He strokes his beard, thinking silently. A moment passes with the two standing together on the front porch before he speaks again. “I have an idea.”
“On how to keep them from fighting?” Grover asks, watching as Annabeth yells something in retort to Percy while pulling her knife from her hip. She points it at the son of the Sea God and Grover frowns. “It better be a good idea.”
“They can’t go more than five minutes without fighting.” It isn’t a question. Chiron smiles slowly as he continues speaking. “What if they never spent more than five minutes apart?”
Grover furrows his brow in confusion and shock and whirls to the centaur. “They would destroy the camp in seconds.”
“But what if they didn’t?” Chiron’s tone is thoughtful and sounds like it’s miles away.
“It would be nothing short of a miracle,” Grover replies, frowning deeper as Percy pulls out Riptide and shouts something to Annabeth. They hadn’t gotten into a physical fight in a while but if they were angry enough…
“There’s an empty cabin in the woods,” Chiron says. “Smaller than the normal cabins, but there would be more than enough space for them to have their own space.”
“I don’t think that would be the best idea,” Grover says warily. Percy like living alone most of the time, and Annabeth loves her siblings. Taking them away from what made them happy would potentially cause them to fight more, especially if they blamed the other. But the constant exposure would mean that they would have to learn how to get along.
But then again, they are both the most stubborn people Grover knows.
“There is a small chance it will work,” he admits uncertainly. “It’s a small chance, and they’ll probably fight a hell of a lot more before it gets better, but I can somewhat see your logic.”
Chiron looks down to the satyr beside him and smiles. “Shall we go tell them?”
“I think it would be better coming from you?” It sounds like a question because Grover knows the worst time to talk to either demigod was when they were in the middle of a fight. Especially with the other.
“Or we could wait until tomorrow,” Chiron says. The sound of blades hitting each other rings out across the camp. Annabeth and Percy were now exchanging blows, never letting the other get the upper hand. “They might kill each other tonight if they slept in the same room.”
“You’re right about that one,” Grover agrees, watching his best friends duel.
This would be either the best thing that would happen to Camp Half-Blood or the worst.