Chapter Text
Jason was tired.
That was one thing he knew for sure. Everything else, well, that’s where things got tricky.
He sat up, shielding his eyes from the harsh sun
His head hurt, but that didn’t surprise him. His head always hurt. What intrigued him was the pain in his back, a dull ache emanating from the centre of his shoulder blades, rippling through his spine as he shifted to his feet.
He scanned his surroundings. He appeared to be in a courtyard of some kind. A wall obscured his vision of the outside, but he picked up the sounds of people and car horns. Tall trees flanked the sides, looking almost golden in the midday sun.
At least, it looked like it was midday. He had no idea how he got here, or where he was.
Nervousness settled in. The last time this he felt like this, he woke up on a bus at the grand canyon. It hadn’t ended well.
Jason moved toward the edge of the courtyard, hobbling from the imbalance of one of his shoes missing. He paralleled the edge of the wall, searching for an exit, while running through familiar thoughts. My name is Jason Grace. I am 16 years old. I am a son of Jupiter.
Right. So he still had his memory.
Then how did he end up here?
He ran through the hazy memories of the last few hours. He had met up with Apollo, the God Apollo, and Piper--the thought of her sent a pang of guilt through him--and they went to find Caligula. There had been boats, and the strange pandai. A fight. He traced his arms, arms that should have been lined with scars from the arrows that hit him. Lighting and waves and--
Oh.
The memory shuddered back into him, Caligula shoving a spear through his back and the stars fading away.
He hadn’t expected the entrance to the underworld to look like this. Percy had been there, but the memory of the story was too far off; he couldn’t help running through the last few moments, obscuring everything else.
Gods. Percy, Leo, Piper--would they know by now? The people in Camp Jupiter? Reyna? Thalia?
He sat down again, his breathing heavy. He looked upwards to the sky, which had since become shrouded in grey.
Jason searched his pockets. He only found a monopoly house from his shrine plans, and the golden coin. He hoped it would work; not that he would need the weapon anymore.
He turned to the building looking ahead of him. It looked like at least five stories tall, made of a pale grey stone.
Jason approached the front. Looking at it had entranced him to come forward. His nerves were quelled, only focused on his footsteps.
The door contrasted the rest of the harsh exterior, made of aged wood. Double his height, it still looked imposing. It was symmetrical, each side with an iron door knocker intricately carved into the head of a wolf
He cupped one in his palm. The familiar face was comforting, despite the cool surface and glowering stare.
He pushed open the door
Jason did not expect Charon to wear a bellhop uniform, but the man in green took the weight from the handle as soon as he tried to put pressure on it.
“Welcome!” He beamed with such energy in zapped Jason out of his strange lull. The rest of the room helped too; it was a bombardment of senses. The room was filled with people talking, running, and--he ducked as an axe flew past his head--trying to kill each other, apparently. The whole room glowed golden, even though there weren't enough windows nor was the weather appropriate.
The wolf motifs continued on the inside, a wolf head over an enormous fireplace. Maybe the entrance attuned itself to the individual. Still, Jason felt jarringly out of place. His eyes darting across the room, watching for threats or anymore flying weapons. He felt on edge.
More, the strange lobby didn’t feel made for him either. The high ceilings, held up by more towering trees and wooden floors reminded him of Bunker Nine. With this many people bustling around, he wouldn’t be surprised if the next room had the Argo III. All the overwhelming energy. It lacked the order of Camp Jupiter, and had a grandeur he hadn’t seen at Camp Half Blood. It didn’t feel like any home to Jason Grace, who had had too many to fit in at one.
But this was where he ended up now. This was it, and he couldn’t complain.
The bellhop tapped his shoulder. “It can be a lot to take in. But you’ll get used to it. Valhalla is a wonderful place to stay until the end of the world.” He smiled as he said the last sentence, as if he was an employee at a normal hotel
“Where?”
The man guided Jason further to the centre of the room, towards a desk that looked like an overturned boat. “Hotel Valhalla!”
Maybe Pluto had updated the names of some the underworld divisions to make them suit a more modern audience.
He continued. “This is the warrior’s afterlife. All the heroes of Odin, selected for their brave deaths end up here.”
The name Odin sounded familiar. He was probably some minor god whose name had slipped away from him. Maybe he was one of Pluto’s assistants. He wished he could ask Hazel. Or better yet, Nico.
Another pang of longing struck him. Nico would already know by now. He could be looking for him.
Jason sighed. Thinking about that wasn’t going to help him. Instead, he made a mental note to add Odin to his list of shrines to build. Then he remembered he was dead and wouldn’t be building anymore shrines.
The bellhop had continued rambling as Jason had slipped off into his thoughts, but another voice roused him.
“Hunding,” the other person standing behind the boat desk snapped. He had a name tag that said Helgi. “What did I tell you about boring the guests? We’re going to get bad reviews.”
“We have reviews?”
“Did you not attend the briefing last month?” He rubbed his forehead. “I’ll talk to you later. Now, who do we have here?”
“Uh, me? I’m Jason.”
Helgi squinted at the screen. “Right. You took awhile to arrive, so lucky for you, your room is ready to go. You’ve been assigned to floor nineteen. Here are your keys. See you at dinner."
Helgi left to go and yell at someone else
Hunding muttered something.
“What?”
“Don’t worry about him, let’s get you to your room.”
Hunding effortlessly weaved through the people scattered through the lobby. The axe on his hip swung with each step. Jason wondered what it could be for. Maybe he would need his sword after all.
Soon, the pair reached the lift. The doors parted.
“As I was saying, the Hotel is a living space for all of Odin’s chosen warriors,” Hunding said, pressing the buttons that covered every surface of the lift. “People who died performing brave deeds are chosen and live on as einherjar.”
Einherjar. It didn’t sound like Latin, or even Greek.
Jason was beginning to get the feeling he was not supposed to be here.
Hunding didn’t care, remaining almost too calm as he straightened his concierge hat in the reflective walls.
"That's an interesting shirt you have there."
Jason glanced down. He was still wearing his faded purple Camp Jupiter. The golden Latin letters were barely visible.
"Thanks," he murmured, too overwhelmed to get much else out
“You’re lucky you’re on floor nineteen,” Hunding said. “It can take almost twenty minutes to get to the upper floors.” He shook his head. “Helgi always finds jobs to do up there.”
Before Jason could offer support, the lift chimed; they had reached their destination.
Hunding hovered in the doorway. “Your new neighbours have been notified of your arrival, they should be waiting for you. Your room is down the hall. It should have your name on it. See you at dinner--I can’t wait to hear of your daring ventures!
He talked so fast Jason barely had time to process his words before the Hunding waved and the doors slid together.
Jason ran his fingers through his hair. So, he was dead. And he was in an unfamiliar place for an indefinite amount of time. He had done this once before, minus the dead part. He’d be fine.
He turned around, and a blond boy poked his head out of a door.
“Oh. You’re here.”