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Jason Grace does not have a good feeling about this. A god showing up at your doorstep is one thing, but being summoned to Olympus? Well it would make anyone jumpy. And gods is he jumpy. Just this morning he had dropped a shampoo bottle in the shower and screamed so loudly Leo had rushed in hands blazing, eyes wild, yelling about killing the monster. And to make matters worse, Jason hadn’t really slept in the three days since Chiron had delivered the news. He burns holes in the rug underneath him, trying, and failing, to ignore the glare of the Zeus statue in his cabin.
“I don’t need that look from you,” He hisses, “I’m already going to see it in person.”
The stare seems to be steel as it continues to pierce him. He turns away with disgust, and lets the fear in his stomach churn like acid. Just when he feels like he can’t take it any longer, the alarm on his phone blares to life and with it a flash of lightning in the otherwise blue skies.
“Welcome to doomsday.”
Jason grabs his sword from the table, swinging it around and sliding it into the pouch at his back and with a final look around the cabin he takes to the skies, letting the wind carry him to Olympus. Tempest would have been too volatile, and he didn’t want to do anything to set off the Gods, who angered if you so much as breathed wrong in their direction. Oversized, all-powerful toddlers.
It didn’t take him long to get to the Empire State, the tall spire jutting out against the swirl of golden clouds that always seemed to cover it when Olympians were present. He pulls up fast against the building and takes several breaths, trying to pull the depleting oxygen that comes from being so high up.
A crack of thunder slams into his skull. His whole body goes stiff with pain. It takes him a second to realise he wasn’t struck, it was just right next to him.
“I’m coming, you bastard!” He growls, and he hopes his father heard.
He steps onto the stone bridge of Olympus, lined with fruit trees and their dancing nymphs, and he wonders if this scene has ever inspired peace in those who come. Mostly it makes him nervous. What horrors have occurred in the throne room while the melodic reed-pipes of the satyrs play out here, harmonising to suffering like it is the greatest symphony? He shudders as he moves to the marbled floor of the entrance, and then suddenly he’s at the doors to the formidable room. The cyclopes that stand guard are looking at him, unblinking.
“I have an audience with Zeus.”
“Name?” One of them grunts.
“Jason.” His voice is shaky and he hates it. “Jason Grace.”
They share a look, and then push open the massive sea-stone doors. The gush of power that rushes out threatens to bowl him over, but he pushes down on the soles of his feet and growls with the force of staying put.
“Ah, our honoured guest.” A deep, gravelly voice mutters, “So glad you could join us.”
Jason Grace looks up, lightning blazing in those blue eyes, and catches his first glimpse of the almighty gods. There are seven of them present, most looking bored or agitated. His father sits at the head, staring at him. There is no emotion on his face, and it is that that makes the demigod move into the room.
“Father,” He bows. He refuses to look to his right.
“Stand child,” Zeus’ voice reminds him of mountains, treacherous.
The room is silent for a beat, as if each of them are holding their breaths, waiting for… something.
“Do you know why we called you here today?”
“No.” He wants to scream. “Father.”
“Cheiristis.” The King of the Gods calls. Every muscle in Jason’s body tenses, and slowly, painstakingly slowly, his eyes slide to the right.
There, in all her beautiful, composed glory, blonde curls dragged into a small knot at the base of her neck, and grey eyes as calm as lazing rivers, is Annabeth Chase.
“Hello Jason,” She says softly, stepping down from her throne of cities and floating towards him like a wraith. Like a star. Like a queen. Like a goddess.
“Hello Annabeth,” He cannot keep the emotions out of his voice, ones that threaten to shut his body down, overwhelm him.
“You are looking good.” They had seen each other only a handful of times since that fateful day, but no matter how long they spent apart the crackling energy between them, as alive as electric wires, never ceases. In fact since the last time- four months, twenty days, and roughly one hour- it seems to have grown. He can almost taste the current between them. It is crème brulee dissolving on his tongue.
“So are you,” His voice is soft, like he’s afraid talking too loudly will fracture the moment. They stare at each other, lost in clouded skies and falling oceans and the beginning or the middle, or something between, that ignites their every nerve. He cannot get over how she glows; like light bends towards her, for her. Even all those years ago, when Piper went through her transformation after being claimed she didn’t look as radiant as Annabeth does now.
“What am i doing here?”
She brings a hand towards him, brushes her fingers over his cheek. He fights to stay still, to not lean into it. “Always so serious my bellator.” She smiles. It pierces the darkest parts of his soul.
“It is not often I get called to the home of the gods.”
“I am sorry, I haven’t come to visit.” Her eyes shutter; he sees the regret and worry flash in them.
“Don’t.” His voice is still soft, but there is firmness behind it that makes her look up. “You are busy. You are a god. I didn’t expect you to be with us all the time. Nobody does.”
She bites her lip, and he knows she’s holding in everything she’s no longer allowed to show. Instead she throws her arms around his neck, and mumbles ‘thank you’ into every hollowed part of him.
“We miss you.” He tries not to sink into her arms. He’ll never leave. “I miss you.” He pulls back, but isn’t willing to let her go completely. “But your place is on the throne, helping us from here.”
The unshed tears in her eyes make them look like swelling rain clouds. “Sometimes I feel like-” She cracks. “Like my place is by your side. Nowhere else.”
“Are you two done?” That same gravelly voice that greeted him at the door drawls sarcastically.
“Shut it Ares.” Annabeth growls. “The only thing on your schedule for today is getting rejected by Aphrodite yet again.” A murmur of amusement travels through the room as the rest of the gods rib him endlessly.
Jason takes the moment to pull her close once more. “We will be together again soon.”
“I know my bellator.” Her presence disintegrates in his arms and then she is back on her throne. “Son of Jupiter.” She is all goddess. “We need your help.”
He falls to his knees in front of them. “Anything for you, my lady.”
Annabeth hides her smile, but he can see it glittering in her features. Jason Grace winks at the Goddess of Demigod Battle and accepts the fate that will bring him one step closer to his wife.