Chapter Text
There was a knocking on Virgil’s door one sunny afternoon. But he really didn’t feel like facing the world at the moment.
It had been a month since the incident, but he still wasn’t entirely over it..
He curled up under his covers and tried to block everything out. There had been too much going on within the past couple of days, and he just needed a break from it all. Maybe he could find a way to float in the empty void of space somehow. He still had connections with Selena, he was pretty sure.
He grimaced as the knocking came again, louder and more frantic. It lasted a shorter time before he heard the sound of wood breaking, a heavy thud, followed by a loud voice. “...oops. Uh… guess no one’s home. Ah, well, they probably won’t mind if I just stay here until the people calm down…” The sound of heavy footsteps, and a door being placed back in place. “Nice place,” the voice continued, but at a softer volume. “I wonder if they have any food or drinks, I’m starving.” The sound of the refrigerator opened, then closed, then opened again.
For some unknown reason, Virgil hadn’t really taken in the fact that someone had just broken into his home. No, everything seemed like a weird fever dream at this point, and he had just thought it was his mind hallucinating. Probably deteriorating from all those nights of lost sleep.
Finally.
Though it was delayed, he did eventually realize he was getting robbed in the nicest way possible. Even after that fact hit him, he still didn’t really care; as long as his room was left alone. But as the voice continued speaking (did this thief ever shut the hell up? Didn’t they know how to rob people correctly?), another fact hit him.
Roman, the unofficial prince of the gods, was robbing him blind.
Like hell he was gonna let that happen. Virgil hopped out of bed, taking his blanket with him. It made him look like he was wearing a cape with a hood; not exactly the most intimidating look for a scrawny guy like him. He stormed out into the main living area and snarled at the intruder. “I do mind, actually. Get out.”
The intruder blinked. “Why didn’t you answer the door when I knocked? Don’t you know it’s rude to deny a demigod his wishes?”
“Don’t start that with me. I know what happened, you fraud. You’re a mortal, just like us now.”
He just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Of course, of course! Who hasn’t Hermes told already?” This fool actually got the audacity to start talking to Virgil as if they’d known each other all their lives. “Sometimes I just can’t stand that guy. He says he’s not a gossip, but between you and mE-!” Roman yelped as Virgil suddenly shoved him forward, catching him off his guard. He fell face-first into the wooden floor boards of Virgil’s home, picking himself back up after a minute. “Was that completely necessary?”
“Yes,” Virgil hissed. “You should have gotten your face smashed in a long time ago. Maybe it would’ve actually knocked some sense into that pea-sized brain of yours.”
Roman, now actually ticked off, lifted Virgil by the collar of his hoodie, the blanket falling to the floor. There was fear in the mortal’s eyes, but he scoffed. “What’re you gonna do, kill me? Beat me up? Yeah, let’s see how much your daddy would just love to see that scene play out.”
Roman simply lifted him higher, and pulled his fist back, ready to punch. Virgil squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself.
...but nothing ever came.
He opened an eye to see the demigod looking conflicted, before dropping him. The smaller man landed with a heavy thud. “Look,” Roman started with a sigh. “That wasn’t the best course of action, but I’m stressed. I messed up. Not just here, I’ve messed up big time.”
The smaller man crossed his arms. “No shit, sherlock.”
He scowled at him, but continued. “I’ve been trying to make it up to the citizens of Artenae! I really have!”
“And how’s that been working out for you?” Virgil raised an eyebrow, helping himself off the floor.
Roman stayed silent, and opened up one of Virgil’s curtains that faced the town. There seemed to be a huge fire covering a majority of the town square. There was distant screams of panic as people raced away from the flames that seemed to eat everything up. The houses that were away from the fire had holes and fractures in them, even though they were fine just a few days ago. Most importantly, though, there were many people running into a church, that hadn’t caught on fire yet. They carried pitchforks and clubs and unlit torches alike.
“Smooth, Princey. Reeeeal smooth.”
“They won’t listen to me!” He cried out, ignoring Virgil’s snark and yanking the curtains closed. He ended up ripping them in half instead, much to the annoyance of the homeowner. “...I’ll pay for that.”
“What you’ll do,” Virgil said, taking the ripped cloth out of his hand and attempting to shove him outside again. “Is get out of my house before I let the people know exactly where you are.”
Roman gasped. “You wouldn’t dare! I have a reputation to maintain! I have lives to help fix...after I accidentally screwed them over.” He dug his heels into the flooring, with only made it splinter and crack. Roman didn’t seem to notice. “Please, just let me find a way to solve all this and I’ll be out of your hair. I can’t do much when I’m being crucified.”
Normally, he would’ve given him a chance. He would have tried to, at least. Let him stay for a few days to see how much the town would flourish without the prince of the gods, just to rub it in his face afterwards. But Roman had gone too far with his carelessness this time. “Guess you shouldn’t’ve messed up then, huh?”
“Wh--but-! You little-!!”
“Tick tock…” he pointed to the town, where more people were running into the church. “You better stay out, or I’ll go straight to that church and tell everyone about your little hideaway.” And with that, and one final shove, Roman was outside his house.
He turned around in an attempt to reason with him, but all he saw was Virgil flipping him off as he started to practically barricade his door.
This was going to be harder than it looked, it seemed.
~*~*~*~*~
Inside the church, the entire town was yelling over each other, each trying to tell the priest about what had happened the previous night. The priest, however, was attempting to calm everyone down the best he could to no avail.
“People were being struck down left and right!” they shouted. “It was that demigod Roman! I tell you!” A woman shoved her way to the front, limping and sporting a rather large pitchfork. “Killing people left and right, not a care in the world! We need to strike him down ourselves, give him what he deserves!” The entire crowd cheered in agreement.
“Ma’am, please, we can’t risk killing a demigod. I’m aware of most of the things he has done, but I fear if we kill him, Zeus will come along and strike us dead.”
“But if we don’t do something,” one man shouted, “Roman’s just going to keep going until there are none of us left anyway!”
“We would die either way,” another person joined in. “Who knows where or what he’ll do next if we just let him off with a warning?!”
“Please,” the priest continued, pleading now. “The Gods know us as a peaceful town. Maybe Roman will leave if we just appeal to his-”
“To his what?! It’s not fair that he gets to get away with this since he’s related to Zues! We need to kill the problem at the source before he finds his way to a more populated village!” The same man as before argued. He raised his pitchfork, starting to chant. “Death to Roman! Death to Roman!”
Well, that’s a bit excessive, Roman thought from his hiding place right outside the church. He was squatted down behind a pile of hay because, well, when people talked about him, he needed to know what they were saying. Not that any of it had been good nowadays.
“WE SHOULD BEHEAD THE TYRANT!” Someone yelled, which caused the village to cheer again. Roman put a hand against his throat, shuddering at the very idea. Tyrant’s a strong word, he thought. Typical humans, only able to see what was right in front of them. No sense of the grand scheme of things. When it came right down to it, people were like ants in a bakery. They just took and they took, not realizing what they take wasn’t supposed to be for them, and then had the audacity to get mad when they were punished for it.
It wasn’t like he knew that his father was going to send him down to earth, anyways. So he got a little mad- big deal. Zeus got angry and caused thunderstorms all the time. Why was it suddenly against the rules for him to do it?
The hell that had been breaking loose inside the church (the irony of that made Roman chuckle, despite it all) had begun to spill outside, as the priest was unable to keep his villagers calm anymore and they filed out, still chanting “Death to Roman! Death to Roman!” Roman knew when to make an exit, which was now.
He fled to the dense forest behind the church, crouching behind a large boulder. It felt humiliating to him to be hiding from a bunch of mortals, but he could see no other choice in the matter. Roman grumbled to himself, silently cursing his father. “Go down and fix it,” he mocked. “Apologize for your mistakes. I’m a massive hypocrite.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to get his thoughts in order.
”Hey, Ro,” Hermes hummed. His wings buzzing loudly and his messenger bag swaying in the wind. “Didja hear that Artenae decided on that statue they were gonna make? It’s gonna be dedicated to Logan.”
It took a moment for the demigod to realize what he said (mainly because he was sidetracked and usually tried to ignore Hermes, as the messenger god had a lot of boring gossip). But he dropped his weight as soon as it sunk in and grabbed a hold of Hermes’ arm before he could fly away. “Wait, what?! You’re not serious, are you? That guy has a whole town named after him! And...at least three temples; he doesn’t need another statue!”
Hermes shrugged. “Hey, man, I just deliver the news. Now let go, I still have a good 5,000 people to tell.”
Roman balled his fists and scowled as Hermes fluttered away. He looked around, not entirely knowing what he was doing, until he saw Logan out of the corner of his eye, coming out of a bookshop. He nearly growled and stormed over to the god. And it should be noted that Roman, son of Zeus, was rather good at storming.
Logan raised an eyebrow at the demigod approaching him. He seemed angry; but then again, he had his father’s temper, so that really wasn’t out of line for him. He switched his book bag to lay across his shoulder, seeing as he’d probably be here for a while, trying to calm him down. “Greetings, Roman. What seems to be the issue this time?”
“I just wanna know,” Roman replied, more yelling that conversing, “What makes you think you’re so worthy of three temples and an entire town in your name when you can’t even-” he gestured up and down to the god- “When you spend your entire life in a bookshop!”
“Well,” Logan started, keeping his voice calm. Though he couldn’t help the hint of irritation that was laced into his tone. “I’ve invented many things that help the mortals of earth, and they have deemed me worthy of building statues and temples. Where as you,” he poked Roman in the chest, “have only really solved twelve issues that a select few have had, and haven’t done anything else since you were granted access to living up here. Except, I suppose, lift weights and hit on other gods.”
“Yeah, well, I have an issue with your tone,” Roman retorted, taking another step closer to Logan. Although he was just a demigod, he towered over the other god. Must’ve been all the weights. “And I’m about to solve that one, too.”
Logan took a step back. “Look, if it’s a fight that you want, I’ll acknowledge that I’m completely outmatched here. But that’s exactly your problem, you’re failing to recognize the value that people put in knowledge. Brain over brawns, if you will. Put us in a battle of wits and-”
“I’m about to beat the wits out of YOU!” Roman cut in, taking another threatening step forward and moving to grab Logan’s collar. Suddenly, the sky lit up and a voice crackled down from it.
ROMAN, it said.
He held onto Logan’s collar, but glared up at the sky. “Yes, father?”
COME HERE. NOW.
He begrudgingly dropped Logan (much to the nerd’s relief) and sulked over to where Zeus stood. “Before you say anything, I know it looked bad but-”
“Before we even get into you threatening another god, Zeus interrupted him, materializing as a tall man rubbing his temple, “I want you to look down there and tell me what you see.” The god of the sky pointed downward, where a gap in the clouds appeared. Roman peered down at the Earth, where a town was barely visible under flames and smoke.
“...I can’t really… see anything past the smoke,” he muttered. “But it looks like a village.”
“And why do you suppose,” Zeus continued, exasperated, “there’s smoke obstructing your vision?”
He had an idea of what happened. A bad idea. One that he hoped wasn’t the truth. But he was an optimist, and instead went for a solution that could be possible, even if the chances were slim to none. “...they had a bonfire and it got out of control?”
Zeus glared at his son, who at least had the decency to look a little ashamed under his father’s gaze. “You know that’s not true. I’ve told you a million times before, Roman, living up here is a privilege that cannot be taken lightly. Every move you make, everything you think has consequences for them down there. You have to learn to control your temper.”
He crossed his arms, looking off to the side. “Hypocrite,” he muttered.
Zeus narrowed his eyes, somehow looking a little taller than before. Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Excuse me?”
Normally, he would back off at this time, but he was feeling stupidly brave today. “Whenever you get mad, you go and cause all sorts of damage and shit with your storms! That happens like every other day. But the one time I get angry and cause a disaster to happen, you’re telling me to calm down! That isn’t exactly fair.”
Below them, lightning flashed as Zeus took a step forward, proving Roman’s point. That was neither here nor there, though, as Zeus jabbed a finger into Roman’s chest. “The difference is,” he roared, “I am a god, and you are just a puny little human who it looks like you have no respect for them! I don’t care if you are my son, if you keep on pulling this kind of stuff, there WILL be consequences to pay!”
Roman jolted a bit as an electric spark ran through his body, causing him to step back. “I do appreciate them! It would just be great if they appreciated me for once! I was nearly mauled to death by a hydra and a lion because someone wanted me to prove myself before I became immortal.” Even though they were miles above the town, there were distance screams as the fire below them started to grow and consume more of the houses. “Honestly, it’s like you see me and the other mortals as toys. All I wanted was a little appreciation, and all I’m getting is the king throwing a tantrum and directing it towards me.”
Zeus prickled a little at his words, and took a deep breath. “Appreciation is not something you get just because you’ve done something heroic. You need to earn it.” He took another breath and looked down as rain started to fall, slowly quenching the flames. “And you’re far from earning it from them.”
“Says you. I don’t see you doing anything to cause appreciation from them. If anything, they fear you. If you couldn’t kill them, they would’ve stormed up here a long time ago to overthrow you,” Roman huffed. Yes, he knew that wasn’t how it worked. No, he didn’t care. He was making a point.
Zeus glared at him and raised his hand. Roman flinched despite himself, but instead of bringing the hand down, Zeus balled it into a fist and suddenly the rain below them stopped, allowing flames to continue demolishing the village. “I tried to reason with you,” he growled, stepping back from his son. “But it seems there’s only one way to get you to understand this.”
“Wh-what do you mean one way?” He didn’t like Zues’ tone. “There can be more than one way!”
“You need to learn what it takes to earn their trust,” Zeus replied, making a complicated hand gesture that Roman was sure he wouldn’t enjoy. “Before you can even think about getting their admiration. So you’re going to go and apologize. Make things right, and I’ll think about letting you back up.”
“What? No! You weren’t even listening to me! This isn’t fair!”
“I am your father, I get to decide what’s fair for you.” Zeus crossed his arms with an air of finality. “Roman, you are to go and fix what you’ve done. And that’s final.” And before Roman could respond, Zeus snapped his fingers and the ground underneath Roman’s feet vanished.
He felt a lurch as gravity took over. Then he was falling, falling, falling, and suddenly the ground came up to meet him and everything went black.
He chanced a look back at the village; it seemed that the crowd was over at that young mortal’s home he tried to take refuge in. Roman prayed that the grumpy one wouldn’t give word that he had been their moments prior, and retreated further into the woods. Maybe, he thought, I can make myself a hut and just wait for their anger to subside before I make myself known.. He wished he had an ax; but since he also wished to keep his head attached to his body, he figured he’d have to find a cave of some sort that didn’t have a hydra or gorgon living in it already.
Nodding to himself, he started deeper into the woods.