Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PART I

and golden threads unravel

Lupa still remembered, clearly, when she first met the twin brothers Romulus and Remus.

She remembered being led to them by the river god, Tiberinius, and hearing their loud cries for food and water and shelter from the cold. She remembered when she stared at them dubiously, wondering what she was supposed to do and why Tiberinius had led her to them. She remembered the rage she cursed at him when he disappeared and never came back.

Lupa was not a mother. Far from it. She did not wish to be a mother either   which, for Tiberinius to so blatantly imply, was utterly preposterous and more than mere slander. She was a war goddess, born from fire and blood, blessed by the full moon. There were far more important things to busy herself with than the object of the willy river god's pity.

So she levelled the two children baleful glares and turned tails to leave. 

But before she could, something grabbed onto her thick coat of fur and tugged. Lupa had stumbled and growled in fury, whipping around to bite the head off of whoever had did it. When she did, she was met with the red, nail-scratched face of the elder of the two siblings, who was still sobbing and wriggling on the ground weakly.

The sight of her angry wolfish face and large jaws peeled back to reveal gleaming teeth only succeeded in making him more upset, something she didn't think possible, disturbing his twin brother in the process and making him bawl louder as well. 

Romulus, who she later named, though crying, refused to let go of her, instead opting to use his grip on her fur as a way to drag himself over the ground and closer to her, akin to what young children did to their relevant parents. Behind him, his younger brother who she later named Remus, let out a high pitched shriek and started kicking wildly, trying to find where his older brother was.

Tiberinius, Lupa thought coldly as her claws dug into the ground beneath her. I am going to shred you. I swear it. You will regret bringing such humiliation upon me. Then I'll hang your intestines around my territory to warn everyone else of what would happen if they dare annoy me again. 

(Tiberinius, like the jerk he was, didn't respond. But she could hear him laughing, submerged in the depths of a river she could not follow.)

Both children didn't stop crying no matter how much Lupa cussed the river god out   unsurprising but annoying nonetheless   and reluctantly, she stopped baring her teeth and tried to make herself look less terrifying.

Romulus sniffled and rolled over, batting at Lupa's face with small hands, and Remus, who had been trying to make his way blindly towards them, tripped over himself and cried all the same. 

It had been extremely difficult to not let her face twist into that violent sneer again. 

Only when she finally took a closer look   after Romulus managed to hit her with more force than a normal child should have, especially half-starved and presumably half-drowned   did she realize abruptly that the two children weren't mortals.

There was the blood of the gods, ichor, running through their veins, a trickle of gold against red that bled into their heart and essence and for a brief moment, the irritation was drowned out by disbelief.

Mars. Those were Mars' children, children of the god of war who had been abandoned at the edge of the Tiber river.

Lupa looked down at them, the squirming bundles of flesh that would've been so easy to crush if not for the fact that their existence belonged partially to a god   partially to a mother who clearly had no interest in them except to shun them   who would not be happy if she did decide to kill his children, and wondered.

She was a war goddess, and not newly birthed at that. She knew the scent of children born for a life on the bloodied battlefield when she saw it. 

And there was something else singing in their veins, their souls, that promised for greatness. Perhaps it was fate toying with her. The two of them were destined to be a tale remembered through time, and though they themselves wouldn't last   they would never be Hercules   it would be the start of something great, something powerful. 

Her grudging interest in them grew; Lupa trotted around the two a few times and then settled back hesitantly onto her hunches, waiting for them to get too tired to cry. There was a half formed idea in her mind that she wished to refuse to acknowledge. It was to extreme, too unexplored, even for someone as impulsive and ambitious as her. 

Because   Lupa was a mentor. She was a teacher. She had led her pack for many centuries through war and strife and established her leadership as the wolf goddess. Picked the ones she deemed had the most potential to become even stronger, guiding them down the path of a warrior's. Slowly and carefully, weeding out those with no potential, and nurturing those with. 

She had no doubt training mortals, no, demigods would be different then her brethren, that it would be difficult and harsh around the edges. But nonetheless....a great change was upon them. She could either embrace it, or shun it. And her choice may be the final key of judgement, the step towards left or right: the game of Janus. 

What a mess you've left me with, Tiberinius, she thought, not angry anymore, rather thoughtful. And as usual, I'm forced to pick up the pieces.

Call it a lapse in judgement, or perhaps and a death ridden oath to bring up the two to their fullest potential, Lupa took both Romulus and Remus in that day, raising them and teaching them the ways of the timeless and brave.

She trained them, honed their talent and skills to the highest proportion, watched each day as their desire for adventure grew, uncontainable, until the day they finally decided to leave.

Their life was going to be harsh, the fates decreed it. All great heroes had difficult lives. So she hadn't been kind, had never softened her words or blows alike; there was no point in coddling future killers. But they were brothers who always had each others back. They would be okay.

(Or so she thought back then. How could she have known that the two would fight each other to the death over a wall? Romulus was ambitious, as all great leaders were, and so was Remus. She had thought, expected, though, that he would direct his ambition at opposing parties, not his brother, and vice versa. 

Lupa had debated visiting him. Asking him what could've spurred his bloodlust, no, their bloodlust, and turned them onto each other. 

She didn't however, not willing to tear apart the victory he had bathed in of starting a new empire.)

Rome back then was small and pathetic, but it wasn't going to stay that way forever. As generations passed, as Romulus died and new people took charge, as Rome underwent changes that were both rapid and not, Lupa had stayed the symbol of their beginning.

And she had started training more demigods, pushing them harshly until they either adapted or dropped dead just as she had done with Romulus and Remus.

But there was never anyone else like them, a pair who watched each others back and powers complimented each others'. Not Julius Caesar, the first Emperor of Rome, who's legacy now shone brighter than the founders themselves, or his cunning, pragmatic nephew that later on took the throne.

Perseus Jackson   an interesting name for sure   and Jason Grace weren't siblings. Still, she wondered if the children of two opposing gods could live up to their ancestors' legacy. 

Storm clouds blotted out the moon and painted over the blue sky with an ugly brush of dark grey. A low rumble echoed through the air with such force that the earth seemed to vibrate along with it. Lightning danced across the sky and through the darkness in fissures of white light. 

Jason Grace had never seen a storm so violent in a long time, not since he had arrived in his temporary home and sanctuary and certainly not before.

He sat still and unmoving, watching as the heavens thrashed and raged from above in a what looked like a violent struggle, blinking every time lightning crackled through the darkness. If he could, he would grab it, ghosting his hands over the heavy clouds and flickering lights.  

Jason had no doubt that walking outside the next day would result in a rather painful arsenal of injuries and sores, if not because of the training he was often put through. Yet on the night of the storm, he could only appreciate it, feeling inexplicably drawn to the mess of clouds and lightning that probably identified as a cacophonic mess to many others.

Was it a bad thing to be attracted to a torrential downpour that killed many people? Probably.

It wasn't a normal reaction, not even by demigod standards, as his mentor and sometimes attempted murderer would say. She had never tried to dampen his enthusiasm though, one of the few things Jason could appreciate her for. ("You're the son of Jupiter. It's no surprise at all.") 

Lupa was not known for her gentleness or kindness, nor for her mercy and compassion. 

Pulling his gaze away from the fight above him, Jason slowly backed away from the open window and wrung out his clothes which to his slight relief, were still dry enough to wear and warm up if needed. 

Then he made his way across the room, a small area with stone walls and thick pillars that supported a high ceiling. There was a hearth in the corner, though it was less of a place to warm up and more of a pile of sticks just there for show, and a few legion banners hung up on his walls. 

Quietly, like he had been trained to do   "Just because you're the son of the king of gods doesn't mean you should be as flashy as Apollo and as inconspicuous as his temples"    Jason glanced left and right out of the stone doorway (with an absent door), looking for any signs of the she-wolf or her pack.

Thunder rumbled outside again, this time so loud his ears rang painfully.

"Grace."

Lightning dashed across the sky.

Jason wheeled around and reached, a beat too slow, for his gladius. Despite his reddening ears, he drew it anyways and settled into a loose position meant to resemble a fighting stance. When he looked up, his blue eyes clashed with the piercing, animalistic gold of Lupa's, sending shivers down his spine. 

Lupa's maw twisted into a mix between a scowl and a grin, seemingly disappointed in Jason's lack of ability to find her, but also amused in a way that only patronizing she-wolves could be. 

"Grace," she stared down at him, and Jason was sure that if she was in her human form, she would have her eyebrow raised to match her dry tone. "I'm a little disappointed."

"Sorry," he muttered. The stretching shadows had hidden the she-wolf and her large form well, well enough for Jason to have missed her even though he had been trained to spot monsters (and wolves alike) since he was a baby.

It wasn't surprising though. Jason had long gotten used to the fact that he would never be able to hide from Lupa. 

The she-wolf tilted her head, jaw hanging slightly open to reveal bone white teeth that shone in the dim glow of light the lighting provided them.

"You were looking at the storm again." She said it as a statement, not a question, and Jason nodded wordlessly. 

The pause afterward gave him time to will his sword back into a coin and tuck it into his pocket. When he looked back up, Lupa was staring at him with a thoughtful expression that she usually never wore. She looked like she was turning an idea over in her head, eyes lacking the usual sharp amusement that he was familiar with.  

Jason wasn't used to new things. Unfamiliar things. Rome, he had been told, was a militarized empire. Routinely and organized. ("We aren't like the ancient Greeks.") And the wolf house worked consistently, with an absence of change, just like how the wolves insisted Rome was back then. There was nothing that should prompt thoughtfulness.  

But then again, Rome had almost fifty civil wars in the span of ten years, and a long line of emperors that ranged from Julius Caesar to 'the malevolent dumbass: Nero' (as Marius often liked to say), so despite the upgraded organization since Greece, Jason believed that Rome was more erratic than Lupa's temper, it was just a sore subject that no one liked bringing up. 

Judging by Lupa's expression, or rather, lack thereof, something was going on. Probably not on the level Nero (if you jump from Caesar), but it was change all the same. 

Either that or he was "projecting his hopes and getting them mixed with reality" again, and Lupa was just toying with him like always.

Jason had tried his best to figure out what she was thinking based on her expressions, but he hadn't gotten far yet because Lupa knew exactly what he was doing and was making it purposely hard for him to do so. 

"Practice. I'm helping you learn, Jason Grace."

Despite the look in her eyes not changing, the she wolf's maw stretched into a subdued version of her usual grin as if she knew exactly what he was thinking, which he supposed she did. "You truly find your father's fits that interesting. He's putting on quite the show tonight, isn't he?"

There was an odd lilt in her voice that he couldn't place. It almost made him forget what she had just said about his father.   

Of course, everything eventually came back to him, to the topic of his dad. The word father was almost as attention catching to him as military commands were. It sparked a chain of emotions that he didn't really like: bitterness like a heavy cloud beneath his skin, hurt from deep within his chest, everything he didn't want to feel. 

It wasn't uncontrollable and it didn't haunt him, but it was a lot for someone who he had yet to see.

The only thing he knew about the god was that he had done nothing for him and his sister when their mother screamed and wept and cried, throwing things around the house and telling them that she wished they didn't exist. His father was too important for them, she would bawl, as Thalia stood on a wobbly kitchen stool to reach for things on the counter in her valiant attempts to fix them some food. 

It was one of the only memories he had about his life before coming to the wolf house. Probably one of important ones, since the rest had faded into distant voices and flashing lights. 

Knowing his identity didn't quell the negative feelings or bad memories.

If anything, they made it worse.

His father was the most powerful and mighty of his pantheon and surely could've done something to change his and his sister's wretched situation before it got too out of hand. But he didn't, and there was no excusable reason in his book as to why. 

"I guess," he finally responded, realizing he had let the silence drag on for too long. "Seeing him this angry makes me wonder what's happening." It wasn't a complete lie. "Either that or I just like seeing him throw a temper tantrum." Like a child, went unsaid.

It didn't go unheard though, not by Lupa.

"Don't be a fool," she drawled flatly, eyes narrowing into slits. "Heroes and gods alike who talk badly about your father don't end up well. You think you'll get a free pass? The ichor in your veins isn't enough to stop him if he decides to incinerate you for being mouthy."

Remember who we're talking about, he remembered her saying. The gods are not good 'people.'

As if on cue, a devastating, sky-splitting fissure of lightning struck a tree just outside the wolf house. The faint smell of ozone permeated the air, followed by hungry flames that were put out by the rain as quickly as they had appeared. His skin tingled unpleasantly. 

("The gods are temperamental beings. They are also the pillars of our world, very much worthy of the respect and awe that the books have written them down as. They only thing that decides if you will be on the receiving end of a curse or a blessing is how you much you're willing to dedicate to them. For Romans, from the moment you're born, you are theirs'. You bleed and quest and die for them. You fight their wars, and you reap the benefits while you still live.")

"Got it," he said. 

Lupa's words rang hauntingly in his ears. 

"Good."

The amusement, cold and sharp, was back in her expression, and Jason didn't know if the feeling in his chest was relief or disappointment.

"...Lady Lupa, is there something wrong?" Perhaps it was unusual for some to address his mentor so politely, but Lupa sometimes seemed like the gods she often talked about. Irregular and always changing, impossible to read or get a read on; he knew better than to push too far, especially when the she-wolf valued respect and obedience above all.

Lupa huffed with laughter, something that Jason took slight offense to. However, once again, it wasn't surprising. 

"It depends on what your definition of wrong is."

"Something that isn't right?"

"Is that what you think? Then yes, I suppose that there is something wrong." The she-wolf paused for a moment and let out a small snort that Jason just barely heard. "Or...not wrong. Something irregular has occurred. But it isn't bad."

Jason shifted from feet to feet restlessly. "Is it good?"

"No. It's neither."

Lupa shook her fur out, splattering water and now that he looked more closely, faint specks of blood onto the walls around them. There wasn't a lot, which was why he didn't see it at first, but it was still there.

The she-wolf had been in a fight.

Which was uncanny, because though Lupa didn't mind getting bloody, she never had to. The other wolves dealt with the monsters that were brave enough to come near the wolf house uninvited.   

Lupa's lips peeled back into an expression that looked similar to a snarl, just without it's aggression, and stalked forward until they were nose to nose. "I have something to show you."

"Show me?" Jason tilted back slightly, and winced as the sudden metallic smell of blood hit him. 

"Yes. Someone I want you to meet."

For a fleeting moment, Jason thought of his father, but the idea was dismissed just as quickly as it came, leaving him feeling embarrassed and ashamed of himself for allowing his mind to flicker there. Could it be though? Maybe...just maybe... 

"Who is it?"

An annoyed sound left Lupa's mouth and she turned away without answering him, save for the flick of her tail that told him to follow her. Jason obliged with barely disguised eagerness and curiosity, making sure to keep up with her long strides with his own quick steps; there was no distance between them so she could accidently leave him behind. 

'Accidently.'

"Lady Lupa," Jason asked again as he walked beside her, tentative and faintly hopeful. "Do I know the person?"

"No. But you will." She said with certainty, and Jason dismissed the disappointment that crept through his veins, berating himself for confirming something he had already known. He almost missed Lupa's next words, spoken with strained pride and cold certainty: "And I do hope you two will get along." 

Jason frowned out the steely glint in her eyes. "Ok."

He didn't say anything else for the rest of the journey.

Lupa finally came to a stop in front of what Jason liked to call the Reception Room, because the other names for it were too dramatic to take seriously. It was the first room a demigod was taken to when they were accepted by Lupa and taken under her wing. 

Jason hadn't been in the room for years, ever since he arrived.

Or, at least he thought.

He didn't actually remember if he'd ever been in the room before, he just assumed he had by the way the wolves talked about it. All demigods were led to that room when they first arrived. Jason was an exception to many things, but he doubted he was an exception to that.

(The only thing Jason remembered, blurrily about his arrival, was that it had been raining, storming, just like today, and someone had been screaming. Maybe him. 

Meeting Lupa now was terrifying and a sign that he was going to end up with sore muscles again. And this was while knowing that she wouldn't kill him outright, not without reason if he kept honing his skill like he was now. 

He wouldn't be surprised if he had burst into tears on their first meeting, though the thought did make him want to shrivel up and die in a hole.) 

"Grace, eyes up front."

Jason, who had been zoning out and staring into the distance, straightened up and blinked rapidly to process what was going on. "Sorry," he apologized. "Lady Lupa, what are we    " doing here, went unsaid when the pieces clicked together. 

Reception Room. Demigods. 

Lupa leered down at him gleefully. "Did you figure it out, Grace?"

"...Yes," he finally managed to say, thoughts racing at a million miles per hour. 

Reception Room.

They were in front of the Reception Room, a room Jason hadn't been in for years ( if he had been in it in the first place), a room he almost forgot existed.

Demigods.

A room that was practically useless, only used to welcome new demigods. 

Disbelief surged through him.

The son of Jupiter had spent 7 years in the wolf house, and he knew everything about it. The rules (which he memorized as quickly so he could to live up to his fathers' name), the way things were run, the wolves who ran them, the importance of his lessons.

Throughout that entire time, Jason had been alone. Maybe not completely literally, he knew for certain that he couldn't have been the only demigod residing in this place for four years because it wouldn't make sense; just because Jason arrived didn't mean others didn't start appearing, but he had never met them.

Lupa kept everyone away for an unknown reason that Jason had yet to figure out. Lupa never revealed her genuine intentions to anyone and certainly not to him.

"There's no reason for you to meet other demigods," she had said when he asked, in a tone that forbade another question. A "why?" And so he didn't. He focused on things that were more important, like training and preparing to serve the legion and becoming a proper son of Jupiter. 

There was never a change. Never a difference. Nothing to suggest that there would be. So Jason got used to it. He was never unhappy, as the wolves kept him company, but the thought of what it'd be like if he could be with someone like him had always lingered in the back of his mind.  

Lupa always told him, not unkindly, that he was being too hopeful. 

But now Lupa was taking him to meet another demigod. Lupa, who had dismissed all his hopes of meeting someone else like him before leaving to join the legion. 

He tried not to let the delight show.

It felt like a victory he had no part of. A battle won in his name that he had never participated in. 

A new demigod   a possible friend?   meant many things. They must be different from other demigods Lupa brought in she both allowed him to meet someone who wasn't her and wished for them to both get along. 

Excitement stirred in his gut.

Hesitation quickly followed. 

Jason hadn't met a demigod, someone like him, since...ever. Sure there were pictures, and of course he wasn't so sheltered that he had forgotten what another human looked like, but it was a limited     more like completely new     experience.

He wasn't technically trapped in the Wolf House, but then again, he's never tried to leave. Not to see Camp Jupiter, not to see what really laid outside the Wolf House and past the forests, not...ever, now that he thought of it.  

Huh.

Jason wondered if he should talk to the new demigod like he talked to the wolves, and then abruptly scolded himself for thinking otherwise. How else was he supposed to talk? In rhymes? Like an augur, all vague and mysterious? He just had to act normal. Casual. Friendly.  

The prickling under his skin grew to become unpleasant. 

Lupa nudged the doors to the Reception Room open, two large, wall-like stone gates that should've been impossible to move if it weren't for the fact that she was a goddess. Jason took note of things he had never bothered to notice before, like the candles that flickered wildly beside the doors, or what looked like a deformed, rusted lock that had long gone to waste. 

When he stepped inside, Lupa's prodding stare making him uncomfortable, the smoky smell of incense and mint flooded his nose and mouth, so potent he could physically taste it. He closed his eyes and coughed under his breath, quickly adjusting to the unfamiliar smell. 

it wasn't bad or anything, just...different. 

When he reopened them, blinking away the tears at the edge of his vision, he was met with the sight of tattered looking boy his age, with messy black hair, torn clothes, and dirt smudged over his face.

He sat in a chair by the hearth fire and looked as if, and this was putting it lightly, he had gotten into a mud wrestle in the middle of a landslide.

Jason's eyes widened and he scrambled to introduce himself with a small, welcoming   or so he hoped   smile. "Hello," he said as he took in the sight of the bedraggled demigod. "I uh. I'm Jason." 

The son of Jupiter winced at the bland introduction, and he tried to think of what else he could say during first meetings. There was something vulnerable of not knowing what to do, of staring into the unknown and trying to gather yourself while having no knowledge of what was going on. 

He did feel a little better when the other demigod's eyes rounded, betraying that he was just as, if not more nervous than Jason. (It wasn't surprising, after all, he had just been dragged into a spiraling mess of gods, monsters, and terrifying wolf mentors.)

They both had no idea what to do in this situation. 

"Jackson, this is Grace," Lupa, taking initiative and perhaps pity on both of them, stepped in, beckoning Jason to approach the other demigod. Jason obliged and tilted his head to get a better look at the black haired male, once again taking in his haphazard appearance and the way his hands just couldn't sit still. 

"Yo," he finally said, ducking his head and shifting carefully in his seat. "I'm Percy Jackson."

"Percy?" Jason echoed before he could stop himself and scolded himself when Percy winced, a small frown appearing on his face.

"Well technically it's Perseus, but I don't like it when people call me that." He muttered something under his breath that sounded like: They tend to try and kill me afterwards.

"Oh," Jason said, thoroughly uncertain on how to proceed. What were questions that people would ask each other when trying to make friends again? The normal ones, even though nothing about this situation was normal. What's your favorite color? Where are you from? Do you want to be friends with me?

So Jason cleared his throat and asked in a loud voice, "Nice to meet you, I haven't seen you around here before." The 'do you want to be friends with me?' refused to leave his throat. It just sounded so...awkward. 

A silence fell over the trio.

Panicked, the blond haired male ran over options in his head for what to say in such a scenario. Of course Jason had never seen him around here, he literally just arrived. That had to be the dumbest mistake he's ever made. 

Lupa had taught him many things, how to fight, how to rally, how to speak Latin before, but never how to talk normally. To another person. Which he was probably supposed to know by himself, because he was the actual human here, but Jason wasn't exactly used to making his own decisions. 

"I mean, I know that was obvious. I take it back. Well, it's still nice to meet you of course, but-"

"I haven't seen you around here as well. Glad I'm welcomed."

Jason blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly. Percy was starting to relax, shoulders loosening, as if Jason's pathetic introduction had made him feel more welcome. Some of the subtle underlying tension that had been in the room was starting to disappear.

Was that a joke? 

Unfortunately, another awkward silence fell over them, and in his peripherals, Jason caught Lupa shaking her head. She looked torn between amusement and another emotion he couldn't read. Hopefully not homicidal glee, that would be bad for both of them. 

"I'm here to train with you," Percy, who was clearly trying to make things less awkward, said, breaking the silence. "At least, that's what Lupa said. Nice to meet you too. Uh, you're like me right? A demigod." 

"Yep," Jason said, and then more sheepishly: "Uh, Jason Grace. That's my full name. Since you gave me yours. So," he cleared his throat. "How did all of that happen?" He gestured at Percy, who seemed to just realize how he looked like he had gone mud wrestling against a hellhound. 

Percy winced, and Jason was pretty sure he had just intruded and asked a very insensitive question. When he opened his mouth to take it back, the black haired demigod said, "Monsters. I dunno what you guys call them, they looked like snakes. I mean, I was never normal before, but still..."

His eyes glazed over with memories. 

Jason winced in sympathy. He remembered his own training, the ache that settled beneath his skin, weighing him down and dragging at his bones after every training session with the pack where he was basically thrown around until he had learned something.

He knew it couldn't possibly be the same; no matter how much Lupa bruised him up, he knew (most of the time) that she wouldn't kill him, and she never attacked him viciously, with the intent to main or kill. Training was different than actually encountering a monsters. 

Though most of Percy's cuts looked like they were from falling or running into a particularly mean tree, there were still some bruises there that were done with malevolent intent, in places that the demigod wouldn't benefit from, places that Lupa and the other wolves never went for because there could be serious risks if they did. 

So unwilling to give him false sympathy and talk about how he knew what it felt like, Jason settled for a simple "Don't worry, none of us are normal. Normal's boring. Welcome to the place of ab-normalness," and tried for a small grin. 

To his relief, Percy grinned back and seemed to force whatever memory he had been reliving to the back of hid mind. "Great, I feel so welcome. Nothing like meeting a talking wolf after I nearly die. "

"Yeah, there's nothing like it, huh?"

A little way away from them, Lupa cleared her throat to get their attention. "I see you two are getting along astonishingly well," she drawled, tail sweeping over the floor. "Grace, why don't you show Jackson around and to his room." 

Jason wanted to ask where Percy's room was, and why he was chosen to how him around. It wasn't that he didn't want to, he just wasn't sure how. Where should he take Percy? Everywhere? How about the places he rarely got to see and wasn't allowed to go without permission? How about the place where the wolves slept? How about    

He frowned, that prickling sensation returning at full force. "Okay. Aren't you gonna heal him first?"

"No. I'll treat him after you show him around. There's nothing fatal," she said as she eyed Percy, in a tone that left no room for argument. Her gaze, sharp gold eyes brimming with hidden intent and and steely calculation, swept over both of them. Jason met it like he was always told. Percy looked like he was glaring back, if only ever so slightly.  

Jason twitched. 

Lupa bared her teeth and gave the new demigod a meaningful look, who slowly looked away. There was a small scowl on his face. 

"Well? What are you waiting for? Leave. Now."

Jason quickly ushered Percy off his seat and led him out the room. The smell of burned wood and sweet syrup stayed behind them as Jason put on a friendly smile with surprised ease and beckoned Percy to fall in step with him.

"Come on Percy," he paused without losing pace. "Can I call you that?"

"Yep, please don't call me Jackson," Percy replied. "Only people who try to kill me would say my last name."

Jason huffed sympathetically. "Relatable."

"You've had people try to kill you too?" 

"It’s actually less of people and more of monsters, but yeah.” Jason smiled ruefully. “Anyways, follow me closely unless you want to get lost or meet a hungry wolf."

He was bluffing a little bit, the wolves didn't eat demigods. They just acted like they would, which was terrifying anyways. 

"Are there many hungry wolves here?" Percy asked, keeping pace with him and jumping over small pieces of debris. Thunder rumbled outside and lightning crackled across the sky, lighting up the corridor for a short moment; Jason caught Percy eyeing the storm uneasily. 

He grinned cheerfully. "Mhm, Lupa's a wolf after all. Her pack lives here too," and then a moment later after taking a quick turn to show Percy where they would study, added, "Welcome to the Wolf House, I guess."

in omnia paratus

Chapter Text

"This is the room you'll spend most of your time in." 

Percy came to a halt beside the blond haired, blue eyed demigod and poked his head into the room, looking both left and right. It was larger than the first room he had been in, but lacked the crisp cleanliness it had. 

The walls were made of the same stone, but they were cracked and decorated with what looked like Latin words. Purple flags with the letters SPQR painted on them in gold hung from the walls. Maps took up a large part of the room that the flags didn't occupy, almost indecipherable with the amount of arrows scrawled over them, and there was a small altar-like thing in the corner of the room. 

(Percy noted, a little bit worried, that there were no tables or chairs. Something that didn't make sense if this room was the room they were supposed to be studying in. He wasn't sure how long each 'class' was, but he refused to stand for hours at a time.) 

Despite the lack of furniture, the room felt extremely full. It shouldn't make sense, because apart from whatever was going on on the walls     was that country Rome? Why was it crossed out then?     and the dusty altar in the corner, the room was relatively empty.

He frowned. 

"Is that Rome?" He asked, pointing to the largest map in the center of the wall. The one with the country that was being crossed out, unable to stifle his curiosity. When he looked closer, he noticed Latin words scrawled messily on the map, as if someone had decided to take notes directly on it.  

The last time Percy did that, it was called vandalism and he got sent to the office for it.

"Nope," Jason replied. "That's Greece."

"Oh," Percy said. Was Greece one of Rome's enemies? "Then where's Rome?" And why is Greece crossed out?

"It hasn't been created yet."

"Hasn't been created? Rome was created after Greece?"

Jason snorted and crossed his hands over his chest. "Yeah. A lot later. The Roman Republic was created a few centuries after the fall of Troy, founded by Romulus and Remus, who were supposedly the descendants of Aeneas, a Trojan warrior who fled his city when it burned down. Lady Lupa said she raised them."

Percy found himself raising an eyebrow is disbelief. "Lupa's that old? Is she also a goddess?"

"Yeah. Is it surprising?"

"Well duh," Percy snarked back. "I'm gonna get trained by a goddess."

Jason groaned half-heartedly and buried his face into his hands. "Believe me, it's a lot less exciting than it first seems. Lady Lupa is terrifying. It's so much worse than anything you can imagine."

Percy made a face and eyed Jason, trying to see if he was joking or not. Being trained by a goddess sounded cool. Who wouldn't want to be trained by one? "It sounds cool though," he voiced his thoughts. 

Jason guffawed loudly. 

"Well if you're able to train with her and come out still thinking that, I'll give it to you, Perce." A short pause. "I'm gonna call you Perce from now on."

"Don't you dare."

Jason rolled his eyes and tugged his ragged sleeves,     fighting evil snake ladies tended to do that      leading him back out of the room. Percy stuck out his tongue back at him in a way that his mom always scolded him for, both fond and chiding. 

"Let's go. I still have to show you basically everything else and this place is pretty big. Unless you find these interesting." He gestured to the maps all over the walls and Percy quickly shook his head. Vehemently.  

"No way. I've heard enough of your dictionary recitation about the Roman Empire for the rest of the year." 

"I didn't recite it," Jason protested. "I'll have you know that what I just said was all in my own words. And besides," he added when Percy opened his mouth to tease him again, "you mean the Roman Republic, not the Roman Empire."

"Same thing," Percy hissed. 

Jason glared at him and it reminded Percy a little of the immortal wolf Lupa. "No it's not. It's really different. The Ro    "

"Okay, okay, got it, it's different. No need to go on a lecture. I don't want to make you recite your textbook." 

Percy snickered at the look Jason shot him, which turned into a yelped when Jason grabbed his arm and pulled him back towards the hallway. He clenched his fists a little, unwillingly tensing up and then feeling bad about it afterwards, forcing himself to calm down. Jason's hand on his arm was different from Smelly Gabe's, but still.  

Jason looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed. "Uh, Percy? Is everything okay?"

There was undisguised concern in his voice.  

"Yeah Jase, oh, totally calling to Jase now," he parroted the blond's earlier words. "It's nothing, you just grabbed my bruise."  

Jason frowned, clearly unconvinced, but guilty enough to let it go. "Sorry," he said apologetically. 

Percy patted him on the back to reassure him. He didn't want to make the first person his age that treated him nicely feel upset for a thing he didn't even know about. "Don't worry, I have a feeling one bruise isn't gonna matter much in the long run here."

He raised an eyebrow at Jason, who was busy hiding his snicker with a cough into his fist.

"True. You'll be sleeping with bruises most of the time after you train with the pack."

"Oh no," Percy drawled sarcastically. He hid how his gut churned at the thought. It was different though. Apparently this was training. Not a one sided beating. Not bullying, not trying to harm with malicious intent for no reason. 

Hopefully. 

The blond, unaware of his thoughts, led them into another room, not too far away from the one they'd just been in. 

It was much, much smaller, and though it was still spacious in terms of rooms, compared to it's relative down the hall, it was more pathetic than anything.

(Percy realized that he sounded like those snobby room critics, and was torn between laughter and dismay.)

The smell of herbs and berries, saccharine sweet and tangy, so sharp he could practically taste it, hung in the air. It seeped into his skin and made him light-headed, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes of tears.  

He had never smelled anything like it, not in the neighborhood trail his mother often took him to get away from Smelly Gabe, not the wildlife surrounded cabin near the beach he sometimes got to visit. He wondered if whatever plants he was smelling were foreign or considering the world he was thrown in, magical.  

"It'll take you a while to get used to that," Jason said, amused but sympathetic. Percy sniffed. The blond laughed. 

Clearing his throat to save whatever was left of his dignity, Percy demanded, annoyed: " What is this place?"

"The Infirmary," Jason replied with a shit eating grin. "Where you'll get your wounds treated."

Percy groaned in defeat and threw his hands into the air. "Forget I even asked. Can we leave now?" 

"I don't know," Jason said with feigned thoughtfulness. "I mean, compared to the time we spent in the other room, this is nothing. I haven't even gotten to show you what's in the cabinets, and I want to make sure you're clear with everythi     "

"No," Percy hissed vehemently, and made way for the the hall. He ignored the cackling behind him by covering his ears and singing violently off tune. 

"You're going to have to come back later anyways," Jason pointed out, still grinning. 

"I refuse. There is now way I am getting treated there." Preposterous. The audacity of Jason having the nerve to insinuate he'd stand within a ten feet radius of that room was just disgusting. Like that room. Which infirmary smelled like that? 

"Well, I mean, I agree." Ok, maybe he wasn't as terrible. "But you're going to have to take it up with Lady Lupa. And there's no way I'm backing you up there." 

Percy shot Jason the most hateful glare he could muster. 

Jason, probably having been glared at by Lupa     he had been with the wolf for all of two hours and had been on the receiving end of it more times he could count     too many times to be scared, was unaffected by the look Percy shot him.  

"Shouldn't we be uniting and like, rising up against Lupa? I thought we were friends!" He said dramatically. 

The other demigod     it felt so weird to say that     snorted loudly. "Ha, no way. I am not going to go against Lady Lupa with you. I, unlike you, don't have a death wish. I case you've forgotten, she's a literal goddess."

"She can't take the both of us," Percy insisted. "It's a free country."

"She could definitely take the both of us," Jason said dryly. 

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence that was only broken when Jason asked, curiously, "So how did you meet Lady Lupa?"

Percy, who had been lost in his thoughts, jolted and tried to get his brain to form a legible sentence. "Uh, oh, monster," he finally managed out. His hands curled into fists at his sides. "Snake ladies. Real evil, they wanted to eat me. Couldn't stop going on about my blood and how tasty it'd be."

You are not gonna go all chow-time on me, he remembered thinking, adrenaline a mindless fog that set his nerves alight. 

"Drakaina," Jason muttered. "Yeah, they're terrible. 

"Terrible is an understatement," Percy said brusquely. 

"Mhm." 

The two entered the next room, which was filled with weapons. Actual weapons.

Percy gaped dumbly at the sheer amount of it all, eyeing a lanky spear that was propped against the wall and the twin daggers that gleamed menacingly.  

Woah.

"And this is the armory."

They were halfway through the tour (or whatever it was) when Jason broke into a speed-walk, forcing Percy to move quicker     the last thing he wanted to do was get lost in a giant stone cave,     and tearing his wounds in the process. 

"Wait," he yelped, wincing in pain. Lupa was right when she said he had no fatal wounds, but the scrapes hurt. "What's with the sudden rush?"

"We'll be seeing the pack soon," Jason said, gesturing to the moon. It was a thin white crescent in the night sky, a sliver of light against the inky darkness. "And I would really like showing you everything before they find us."

A pang of uncertainty hit him, and he laughed a little nervously. "Uh...and what exactly would happen if the hungry wolves find us? We wouldn't be like. Killed or eaten. Right?"

"Probably not," Jason replied, and Percy breathed out in relief. The events that happened were finally starting to wear him down. "It does depend on Lupa." Jason caught sight of his panicked expression. "But probably not, believe me! They aren't like the drakaina. They pride themselves for being above normal monsters."

"Good to know," Percy said.

"Yeah. The wolves are very prideful, and not just for that reason." The blond shot him a knowing look. "So don't do anything stupid like insult their honor or something. It's also safer to address Lupa as Lady Lupa when around the pack. Or else they might bite you."  

"...Good to know too." Percy would've protested any other time, but he really didn't want to be bitten. 

"You'll get used to it. It's not that bad. They can be nice, you know?"

"From the short time I've spent with Lupa, I don't think so." 

Jason snorted. "Well, Lupa's another matter completely. She's an actual goddess. You won't receive any sort of 'nice-ness' from her. But the pack is okay."

"Cool," he breathed out, somewhat reassured. 

They walked a little more before Jason came to a stop. In front of them, the ground sloped downwards as if leading to some sort of basement. It was a stairway, just without the stairs, and it looked like a pain to climb. There weren't any railings to hold onto, and the path was too wide to lean on the walls. 

"Here," Jason said, leading the way down. He gestured to the walls, and Percy's promptly ADHD kicked in without so much of a 'hello good sir, how do you do!'. 

He picked up on the crevices with small glints of gold wedged in them, the flickering torches that illuminated the purples banners with the words SPQR printed on them, and what looked like Latin carvings on the wall. The path finally widened even more into a large room, larger than any of the ones they'd been in before combined. 

"Woah," Percy murmured, scanning his surroundings. " It's an arena."  

"Not really," Jason remarked. "More like a training room. This is where we hone our skills before moving into the actual camp."

"Same difference," Percy shot back. Then he paused. "Wait. Camp? Legion? What?"

"Oh," Jason said, muttering something indecipherable under his breath. "So Lupa didn't say anything about that yet? About camp, the positions, the rules...?"

He trailed off when Percy stared at him blankly, wracking his brain for anything mention of a camp     what camp? was it for misfits? he didn't do well in anything related to school, even if it was an overnight field trip to the forest     or positions, or rules. 

Was it something he should've known earlier? No one had mentioned anything! Indignance welled up inside him. 

"I'm going to guess that you don't know about the quest and prophecies too then," Jason mused, more to himself than to Percy.  

"Okay, wait a sec," he said. "Seriously, back up. What do you mean quests? And prophecies?" 

Jason shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not sure if I should tell you if Lupa hasn't told you yet," he said, sounding uncertain. At Percy's borderline pleading look, he sighed. "I'm serious, I don't have a death wish. But," he added quickly, "I guess what Lady Lupa doesn't know won't kill her."

He grimaced, as if he didn't believe himself. 

"Great," Percy said, trying not to sound snappy. "So what?"

"Do you know who your godly parent is?"

The black haired demigod shook his head. When Lupa explained to him that his dad was a god, Percy could barely believe it. It sounded like a joke. Haha, guess what! Your dad is a god who abandoned his entire family for no reason whatsoever except for maybe his other wife, who he cheated on to have you, and his underwater palace. Hooray!

So when Lupa asked him who he thought his dad was, Percy, in a surge of defiance and anger, had snarled and said he didn't care.

...Probably not the best move on his part, but he had just been attacked by snake monsters and thrown into a tree so he felt he deserved to be upset. Deserved lashing out. Now, the only thing he felt was regret   just a little   and embarrassment. 

How was he supposed to say all that? As the silence dragged on, Jason growing more and more confused, Percy decided to go with a simple, "Nah, I only know it's a guy." Then: "How bout you?"

A truly impressive amount of emotions flickered across the blonds' face. There was no way he was productive or energized enough to try reading them. Then he took a deep breath and sighed. "Jupiter." 

"Right uh...Jupiter. The...big guy?" Percy said, trying to hide the fact that he had no idea who they were talking about. The only Jupiter Percy had heard of was the planet, and it was certainly big, so he was going with that.

You know, instead of just saying he didn't know who Jupiter was. 

Thankfully, Jason just nodded. "Yup, the big guy."

Percy cheered inwardly. Who said improvisation couldn't save the day? If you couldn't blow them away with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit. It worked every time. "That's got to suck."

The blond shot him a skeptical look, and Percy immediately went 'abort mission.' ...Maybe you shouldn't try baffling people with your bullshit. It didn't work every time. 

"You're the first one to think so," Jason finally said, the silence that had been dragging on for so long finally broken. "Not that I meet a lot of other demigods."

"Why?" Percy asked, jumping at the chance to change the subject. Jason went along with it, seemingly happy to get away from the clearly sensitive subject. 

"Lady Lupa says I don't need them. She keeps them away."  

"I see," Percy said. Truthfully he didn't see and wondered he wondered why. Was there a hierarchy in the wolf house or whatever camp or something? Was Jason like, a prince? Was Jupiter some sort of important or special god? 

The blond looked at him thoughtfully and commented, "If Lady Lupa lets you see me, that means your heritage is special as well. It means you're more important. Maybe your father..."

"Woah there," Percy took a step back and raised his hands in a surrender. "What do you mean by special heritage? Are you like...royalty?"

He blinked, realizing that he had literally just outed himself and the fact that he was severely under taught in Roman studies and gods. 

"...You could say so," Jason said slowly, as if he wasn't sure whether to be impressed, offended, or both. "Jupiter, and you could've just asked," Percy huffed. "Is the king of the gods. He's supposedly the strongest god in existence." 

Oh," Percy's mouth dried. "Uh, wow. Isn't that Zeus?"

Jason's lips thinned and he raised an eyebrow. "You know Zeus but not Jupiter?"

"Yeah? I mean, Jupiter came from Zeus, right?"

The blond twitched. "How do you know that, but not that Rome was created after Greece?"

"I'm talented," was all Percy said, sticking his nose in the air.

"Right. Do you want to explain the difference between the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire now or..."

Percy shoved Jason playfully and watched him stumble back, squawking indignantly. "I have talent," he said, shushing the other demigod when he started protesting loudly. "But it's limited. Surely even your small brain can understand that, Jase."

"I see. How amazing. Do tell me more about your amazing talent."

The black haired demigod crossed his hands over his chest. "I’m sorry, but I can’t. The sheer power of it is incomprehensible for people like you." When Jason sputtered indignantly, Percy added, “Besides, didn’t you say that we had to hurry?”

He turned heels and marched away, pretending he actually knew where he was going, as if he had actually memorized the directions. 

"Stop trying to change the subject!"

"You're the one changing the subject, you're trying to change it back to the one before!"

"So you admit that you changed the subject from the one that was before before?"

Percy tried to step on Jason's feet     key word tried,     but the demigod twisted out of the way with practiced ease. The two bickered the rest of the way back up the path, leaving the arena to go meet up with Lupa again.

It was when they were nearing the infirmary again, having walked all the way back     apparently Lupa was a jerk,     did Percy decided to ask Jason about his tattoo. 

He had noticed it since they first met, the black bars and strange mix of letters     which he had been seeing everywhere     that decorated his forearm. When Percy had asked him what they meant, Jason explained it briefly: "SPQR    Senatus Populusque Romanus. It stands for the Senate and the people of Rome."

(He probably could've asked about the tattoo then, but had sidetracked himself by asking, mockingly, "Is that the Roman Republic or the Roman Empire?" and the whole conversation was lost.)

"Wha     "

"I already told you, no, I will not help you take down Lupa. Because, for the last time, I don't want to die."

"Why are you so distrustful? Actually wait, don't answer that," Percy cleared his throat. "As I was saying, what's up with the tattoo?" 

Jason blinked, surprised, and turned his arm to show him a clear view of the black marks, the letters SPQR, an eagle, and five black bars underneath. They looked like tally marks.  

"Woah," he said, taking Jason's arm and looking at it up close. "Another cool thing that I'm gonna get that my mom definitely won't approve of. What are the lines for?"

"They mark the years someone has served in the Legion, and are usually given after the probatio period." Percy didn't know what the probatio period was, but he nodded along anyways.

There was a pause.

"Wait," he said slowly. "You've served in the legion before?"

"No," Jason admitted. "But I'm somewhat of a special case." 

Percy whistled. "Wow, aren't you the golden boy! Lucky." 

The blond shot him a scathing look at the words golden boy. "I wouldn't call being trained by Lupa lucky. Even if I do get a cool tattoo before I should."  

"You think it'll be the same for me?"

Jason eyed Percy up and down like an art critique     because Percy was of indeed art     and made a thoughtful sound. "Well, I think yeah, it does. I mean, you’re allowed to meet me,” he winced when he realized how arrogant that sounded. "Which means you're definitely special. I don't see why it wouldn't be the same." 

"You flatter me," Percy said flatly. "Gods, my mom would never approve of this. She'd kill me." No she wouldn't. She never gets mad. Never gets upset. Always smiling and hugging me and telling me, a dyslexic troublemaker who keeps getting thrown out of schools, how much of a blessing I am.

"At least that means she cares," Jason snorted, only a little bitter. "My mom probably wouldn't even care. Actually, from what I remember of her, she probably wouldn't even notice."

"Why? Because you always got kicked out of schools or something, and she got tired of taking care of you?" Percy wasn't sure if other demigods were as...if they struggled as much as he did. But it made sense.  

He swallowed back a sudden wave of emotions. He was so lucky to have his mom.  

Jason gave him a weird look, and Percy wondered if something had shown on his face. Probably did. He was really too tired for all of this. He just wanted to find something, it didn't matter what, to fall and sleep on. 

"I've never been to any class past preschool. Or kindergarten," the blond said and Percy sputtered. 

"What?"

"Lupa found me and brought me to the wolf house when I was...three. Or four, I think."

"What?" The black haired demigod searched for something to say, mind coming up blank. "But...but that's not...normal," he finished lamely. Right. Because what part of monsters and gods and magic or something was normal. 

Jason seemed to be having the same thought, because he gave Percy a look that said he was trying very hard not to judge him. "What part of our parents being a god is normal? Especially ours. We're more abnormal than the normal abnormal. We're like...abnormal squared or something." 

Hold on, didn't you say you didn't go to school? Percy wanted to say, disgusted at the mention of math. Before he could, a new voice joined their conversation. 

"He's right," Lupa, in all her terrifying glory, rumbled. Percy and Jason exchanged a look. Neither of them had heard her arrival. "Jackson especially. Nothing about you says ordinary. If you we're, I'd have left you on the streets to the Dracanae. But you are not, and your father would not be pleased if I had let you to die." 

"Thanks," Percy snapped back.  

The temperature dropped to a chilling degree, and she-wolf drew herself up, shadow stretching over the walls and towering over them. Behind her, three more wolves emerged with mean expressions and bared fangs, muscles tensed as if ready to lunge. 

The tension was broken by Jason clearing his throat awkwardly in an attempt to direct Lupa's attention to himself.

Immediately, the three wolves turned to look at him, one annoyed, one exasperated, one admonishing. Lupa's ear twitched, and Percy braced himself in case he ripped his head off.  

"Lady Lupa," Jason asked. "Are you going to look at Percy's injuries now?"

The she-wolf's tail swished over the floor. Her eyes were unreadable. Percy was sure she was going to kill him. Instead, what left her mouth was: "Of course. Did you finish showing Jackson around?"

"Yes," the blond replied. 

Percy blinked.

"Alright, get in," Lupa nosed him forcefully towards the infirmary and Percy’s eyes started watering at the sharp, tangy smell of herbs. He looked to Jason for help, but Jason, the traitor, shook his head and mouthed, “no way,” leaving him to suffer alone. 

Just as Percy sat down on a chair that looked more comfortable than it felt, someone cleared his throat. 

"Lady Lupa, have you tested him yet?" Both Percy and Lupa stilled. 

It was a wolf that had spoken, a large black male with cold amber eyes and an expression that bordered hostility. Jason’s gaze flickered towards him briefly, as if confused, and then surprised, before completely impassive.

The black haired demigod swallowed. "Test?"

"You haven't," the black wolf rumbled flatly, answering his own question. "And yet you've brought him back to our saving Grace anyways. What in him sparks your interest?"

Percy felt a wave of defiance surge through him. What makes you so interesting, he wanted to snap back. I hope you fall into a ditch. What was the entire deal with Jason and measuring worth? Why did you have to be worthy to get taken in and helped? It was so dumb.  

Jason winced a little, looking embarrassed at the words saving Grace and shook his head very, very slightly, as if he could here his thoughts, as if telling Percy to not do anything.

“Do you not see his heritage?" Lupa fired back, voice dripping with ice. "How long has it been since he has sired an offspring? Jackson may be the only one capable of matching Grace as time goes on. Who knows, maybe he’ll even be stronger.”

The two demigods balked. 

A loud clap of thunder shook the earth. Percy’s eyes widened as he remembered his mother’s fear of storms, telling him what happened to her own parents and to never travel by air because it was too dangerous. His gut churned at the memory.

The other wolves seemed suddenly uneasy as well,     at least that was one thing they could agree on     shooting quick glances to the storm outside. “Lady Lupa,” the black wolf tried again, cautious. “You could not possibly mean him. ”      

“Do you not sense it yourself?” Lupa repeated, suddenly irritated. “Are you saying that I have made a mistake?” The wolves shifted uncertainly, cowed. “Perseus Jackson is in no doubt his son. His bloodline is just as royal as Graces'.”

Percy twitched. There it was again, that measuring of worth of who had more right than the other to be saved, something he didn't     couldn't understand. The fact that he would be dead if it weren't for his father's blood in him, not because there was no one to save him but because they would've just let him die    

Were there many other "unworthy" demigods that became monster dinner because Lupa deemed them unimportant? 

“Lady Lupa,” a different voice spoke up this time, soft but firm. “If what you're saying is true, then are you sure you are making the right decision taking him in?" She paused to let the words sink in. "He has never been a peaceful god. He is and always will be temperamental and destructive and cruel.” 

"He leaves with carnage in his wake and bodies broken over altars," the other one agreed. "Surely you remember. He was ruthless." 

Percy felt his shoulders droop. Just who was the guy his mother fell in love with? She was gentle and nurturing, someone who could light up the room with her smile, and he was...a monster.

What if he hated Percy, and that was why he left them? What if he didn't really love his mother, and to him, she was just a shallow fling? What if he was even worse than what everyone had described him as?   

The more he heard     thought     about the man, the more he didn't want to.

"Yes," Lupa finally admitted. "But his temper can be of use. And well, though he is flighty and irrational, he has helped us before."

Percy frowned, and quickly peeked at Jason, who’s expression made it clear that he already knew who the others were talking about. 

A tense silence fell over the room. 

“Who?” Percy finally asked, unable to stand the stifling sound of nothing anymore. The wolves stirred at his voice, looking almost fearful. Lupa’s face was devoid of all her amusement and annoyance. Jason’s was a little pale. He was completely left out of the loop, at that made him restless.

He opened his mouth to ask again, but Lupa cut him off.

"What is your favorite place to go with your mother?”

Percy blinked at the question. His skin tingled uncomfortably as the weight of everyone's stares, even Jason's, burned into him. 

He licked his lips a few times, confused. Uncertain. "Uh," he started, wincing at how raspy his voice was. "The beach. Or the lake. Or that hiking trail in...basically any place with water."

Lupa gave him a look that he couldn't read. "Do you know who the Roman god of seas is?"

“Poseidon,” Percy answered. His words made the tension peak at an astonishing rate. The wolves gnashed their teeth, Lupa sneered coldly, and Jason shot him an alarmed look. Too late, he remembered their conversation before about how Poseidon was a Greek god, not a Roman one. “I mean, the Roman version of Poseidon. What’s his name again?”

“Neptune,” Lupa replied gravely. “Your father is Neptune. The god of the sea, the bringer of storms, the shaker of mother earth. The second brother to Jupiter and Hades, one of the eldest gods in existence. Ave, fīlī Neptūnī.”

“Ave,” Jason echoed.

“Ave,” The wolves murmured quietly.

Hail, Percy realized dimly. They were hailing him. The realization that he could understand Latin took a backseat to the reveal of his father. Something he was sure, deep down, he had known. He wondered why he didn't feel more excited. 

Maybe it was the way Jason was looking at him. Maybe it was the resentment radiating from the wolves. Maybe it was because his dad wasn't what he expected to be, and he didn't know how to feel about that. Maybe, maybe, maybe.  

"Perseus Jackson," Lupa said. Percy admired the resolve in her voice. "Welcome to the wolf house." 

It didn't take long to treat his injuries, since as Lupa had said, there was nothing fatal. Still, Percy left the Infirmary unable to string an coherent sentence together. He didn't know if he was scared, or upset, or if he was even feeling anything, and that probably wasn't very good. 

"So," Jason's voice interrupted his thoughts. "How was it?"

"How was what," Percy said flatly. 

"Your first day. Or night. Did you find...at least some of it fun?"

A loud sigh left his lips. He very firmly refused to meet the blond's prodding gaze. "Yeah, honestly? It wasn't bad."

Jason's lips twitched upwards ever so slightly into a shy smile. The two fell into a comfortable silence, accompanied only by the hissing of torches and the pitter patter of rain outside.  

"Don't think too much about it." Once again, it was Jason who spoke first. 

Percy blinked slowly. "About what? You really have to be more specific." 

Jason gave him a dry look. "You know what I'm talking about. Your heritage."

"Right," Percy rolled his eyes in response. 

This time it was Jason sighing. "You're not the only one, you know? I get it, it sucks. The strongest gods are always the worst ones. Well," he snorted, as if remembering something. "No gods are good, so there isn't a concept of worse, but you know what I mean."

"Are you saying I have to like them and be grateful?"

"I'm saying you shouldn't have to like them and be grateful," Jason corrected. 

Percy stared, baffled. "What?"

"You don't have to like them," Jason repeated with a shrug. "And be grateful. I mean, I don't like my father either. You just have to take advantage of the powers he blessed you with."

"Which I don't know how to do," Percy pointed out flatly. 

"Then learn," Jason answered simply.

"Easy for you to say."

"Not really. Jupiter is just as much of a jerk as Neptune is," Jason said matter of factly. "He's a tyrant who kills anyone that opposes him, and regularly cheats on his wife with other women."  

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"Look," Jason stopped walking, and turned to look at Percy. His face went through an outrageous amount of emotions again. "Just focus on the important things, like training, so you don't become monster dinner. It's not that bad. Trust me." His lips twitched up into a wry smile.

Percy bit back a "why?". It wouldn't be fair to the blond. Instead, he took a deep breath and asked, "Is the training hard?"

If Jason felt the subject change     which he probably did,     he didn't do anything. "Well, of course. You'll be sleeping with aching muscles soon enough. But you said it yourself, it's an honor to be trained by a goddess    "

"Who's a jerk."

"Who's a jerk," Jason agreed. "And her wolves     "

"Who are jerks."

"Who are jerks, but an honor nonetheless."

Percy turned over the blond's words in his head until they reached the room, until he was finally able to flop down on a bed, until his eyelids grew heavy     which took no time whatsoever     and wondered.

"You just have to take advantage of the powers he blessed you with."

Well. Would he have to talk then? Get in contact with his dad? How?

Oh.

Uh hey dad, he started. He imagined crystalline ripples and foamy waves lapping at sun kissed shores, the beach his mother always took him to. Or Lord Neptune. I'm Percy, your son. Uh, I exist? I don't even know if this'll reach you, but I just wanted to say hi. I still dunno what to think of you right now, but I guess water powers are pretty cool. I used to take swimming before Smelly Gabe, uh, my stepfather, made me quit. That's all. Uh. Bye?

He closed his eyes having finished the weak imitation of a prayer. It was cold and silent in the room. Percy missed hearing his mother's footsteps lull him to peaceful sleep. But exhaustion, heavy and muted, still weighed him down, pinning him to the scratchy cot he was laying on. 

Percy let sleep settle like a blanket against his skin, and surrendered.

and if he dreamed that night

of underwater marble and cloud touched waves then

there was nothing to say that it wasn't real

Chapter Text

Jason woke up the next morning in a daze. His mind was foggy, his gaze blurry, and his ears ringing dully in the otherwise silent room. As he lay on his bed, unmoving beneath the purple covers and trying to regain some sort of control over his tried body, he noticed that he wasn't alone. 

The demigod looked to the right.  

Lying on a cot a few feet away from him was Percy, drooling into his pillow, looking as if everything that had happened last night     his fight with the drakaina, Lupa and the wolves, the revelation of his father,     didn't bother him at all. His mouth was half open, legs and arms splayed in a way Jason didn't think possible, pillow in the process of falling off his bed. 

Jason blinked away the hint of envy, and yawned.

Judging from the sun's position, it was around eight o'clock, thirty minutes later than he would usually wake up. He was mildly surprised that Lupa had let him     no, them     sleep in, but the she-wolf worked in many ways and he was too tired to start thinking about it.

Beside him, Percy let out a soft snore and rolled over, burying his face into his pillow. His cot rattled dangerously, thin wood planks creaking and straining. Jason eyed the poor excuse of a bed     "We don't have other accommodations yet,"     he was sleeping on, and frowned dubiously, wondering if it would hold. 

He turned back to the sun again, squinting. Well. He didn't know how long Lupa's unusual kindness would be, and he really didn't want to find out. It was probably safer to start getting ready now.

With that thought in mind, the blond pushed himself up and sauntered over to where Percy lay, still completely asleep, blankets tangled around his feet and pillow in hand.

Then, without any hesitation, Jason drew the pillow back and whacked Percy in the face, once, twice, three times. Feathers fluttered through the air and the other demigod sputtered awake, eyes wide, throwing himself off the cot and landing ungracefully on the ground, limbs half hidden by the mass of blankets.  

"Jason!" He complained, trying to find the end of his blanket. 

Jason couldn't help the snicker that left his mouth. Percy looked ironically, like a beached whale, or a fish out of water. "Good morning." 

"Good morning? Good morning?" Finally freeing himself from the covers, Percy stood up shakily     having slapped away the hand he had extended for help     and scowled at Jason. "You call this a good morning? Please, tell me what's so good about this. Go on."

"It's almost time for our first class," Jason claimed, pushing away his uncertainty. "I was being considerate." 

"Oh come one," Percy grumbled, throwing his head back and looking like he was ready to throw a tantrum. Or something else. Presumably at the wolves. "This early? I was having the best dream."

"Really?" Jason asked, suddenly curious. He had had his fair share of weird visions, each as interesting and confusing as the last. "About what?"

Percy's ears turned a dark red, and he slumped back onto the cot. Jason raised his pillow threateningly when he tried to burrow back into the sheets. "It's gonna sound stupid," he finally muttered out.

"You always sound stupid," Jason immediately retorted, referring to the argument they had last night about Rome. Percy's bed, as if in agreement, creaked dangerously.

"Shut up," Percy hissed back. He crossed his arms over his chest and drummed his fingers against them. It was a habit Jason noticed when they first met. Everyone handled ADHD differently, he supposed. "Like seriously though, it's gonna sound very dumb."

"I really doubt you can sound dumber     "  

"I'm not dumb!"

Jason ignored the protest. "     than you already have, Perce."

Percy glared. "At least I don't you know, intone     "

This time it was Jason's turn to be offended. "I don't intone! For the last time, it was all in my own words     anyways. Back to your dream."

The black haired demigod scowled, fingers not giving up their consistent drum against his arms. It was starting to make Jason's nerves tingle. "It was underwater," he finally said, lips twisting in a conflicted manner as if he wasn't sure how he should be feeling. It was a stark contrast to the timeless peace that had been on his face when he had been sleeping. 

"And it was a palace. A giant underwater palace made of white stone. There were whales and dolphins and mermaids."

...That was definitely not a normal dream. Jason told him such. 

"Wait, really? So it's real? Posei-Neptune really sent it to me or something?" Percy's voice faltered, eyes shining with something akin to hope. 

The blond haired demigod hummed in reluctant agreement, ignoring the slip up. "I mean, I think? I dunno what you usually dream of     "

"Definitely not mermaids."

"    but I think it's too coincidental to be just some sort of crazy dream. Like, what are the chances? Of course," he added, not wanting to let Percy down if it didn't turn out to be his father. "Brains are weird like that. So take it as you will."

The enthusiasm in the black haired demigod's posture wavered, but didn't disappear altogether. "Good to know. I mean, if it really was him, it meant the prayer worked."

Jason blinked slowly. "Prayer?"

Percy's ears, for the nth time that day, turned red. "Oh yeah. Uh, you were asleep. I was...well, thinking about some stuff, and I thought hey, why not pray to Neptune? Just to let him know I exist."

"You're lucky," Jason snorted, tugging irritably at his blanket as it tried valiantly to trip him. 

"What? Why?"

Jason shrugged. "Well, you're still alive. The gods are usually quite picky about their prayers. It has to be large and fancy, and you have to recite a whole ton of things. It was to be done at an altar, and there has to be offerings. Think of it like a ritual."

Percy paled. "Oh."

"Yeah."

An awkward silence followed, and Jason began to think he said something wrong. Or that maybe he upset Percy in a way. Either that, or he still wasn't used to the fact that his father was a god with anger issues. Adjusting took time.

Jason personally never had to, he had been too young when Lupa found him, and he couldn't remember anything, but from what she told him, the process was more difficult for some demigods than others. That was why some survived and others didn't. He doubted Percy wouldn't survive, but still.  

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, change the subject, Percy interrupted. "So. Uh, wait. You said we had class?"

Jason froze.

Gods, he had forgotten about it. He had forgotten that they were supposed to be getting ready for class. Him. He never forgot about that. He     it was a routine that he had been upholding for years. How could he have forgotten? The uncomfortable prickling returned. 

"You're right," Jason replied, a beat too slow. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth, heavy and numb. They were going to die. The wolves were going to kill him. Then Percy. The wolves    

A second realization washed over him and his gut started churned with a myriad of emotions. Dismay, shock, and horror. He wracked his brain and tried to remember who was teaching them today. When he got it, he internally bemoaned the suffering they were about to endure.

Today was Marius.

Today was Marius.   

"Uh, Jason," Percy said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sounded both worried and like he was trying not to laugh. Jason was too busy with sorting himself out to tell him that that'd be something he'd be lucky to do at the end of the day, if they managed to survive till then. "You seem..."

"We," Jason said in a detached manner. His voice was too monotone, even to his own ears. This was it. He     they     were going to die today. Lupa was going to watch them both die, and Percy would never get to meet all the other wolves. "Are so dead."

Percy paled dramatically, mouth falling open to look, once again ironically, like a fish. "What?"

There were a few things to know about Marius.

One, was that he had fur as red as the blood he loved to spill.

Jason used to find it surprising, until he learned that the name was often associated with the god of war, Mars, who slaughtered as if it a personal hobby of his. Which to be fair, it probably was. Jason was convinced that Marius was the wolf incarnation of the bloodthirsty god, because it explained a lot of things: 

The way his fur bordered a deep russet, unlike any other wolf in the pack.

The way he grinned at the prospect of carnage.

The way his eyes burned with violent delight. 

What were the chances he wasn't some offshoot deity of Mars?

Two, was that while he lacked the cruel amusement and inability to understand human empathy Lupa exuded, he made up for it with sheer, mocking, sadism.

He enjoyed seeing Jason keel over and curse the gods for everything wrong thing in the world, muscles aching and lungs burning. What the son of Jupiter ever did to him, he didn't know, but he was pretty confident that Marius didn't need a reason to be a bitch. 

The first thing he'd say when they met every week would be something along the lines of: "Ahhhh Jason you're back, I've been so bored without your honored presence. So bored that I must immediately throw you around in order to teach you the art of being Roman. Let's get started quickly, I know you absolutely missed our bonding time." 

(He was basically a glorified punching bag at this point.) 

There were no breaks, no rests in between rounds, no short pauses in favor of some offhand discussion. There was only getting thrown around     honorably     like he would die the next day if he didn't fulfill the "Daily-Must-Reach-Quota-Of-Being-Thrown-Around". 

And he was bad enough on a good day. Bad enough to run Jason dry, exhaustion seeping through his veins, wringing carefully composed secrets from the son of Jupiter's lips before he could even realize the words leaving his mouth. There was no outcome where he had an excuse to be especially mean that didn't involve certain death. 

Death by exhaustion. 

Or perhaps irritation. 

Three, perhaps the most dangerous part of Marius, was that he was smart.

He talked nonchalantly, but the words that left his mouth were jagged with insults that hit where it hurt. He never demanded the respect other wolves would, but that respect would be forcefully ripped from you and thrown at his feet in the end anyway.

He threw Jason around like a ragdoll, but there was never a time when he didn't learn anything valuable, when he didn't find the swing of a sword easier to move through, when he didn't eventually admit, grudgingly, that he was simply better. 

His words held purpose. His actions held weight. There was intent behind it. Nothing he did, though layered with jibes and mocking sympathy, was meaningless.

Jason supposed that was why Lupa still kept him around. Otherwise, the way he talked would have him killed in an instant. 

(Marius wasn't like Callaban, he later on realized.

At first glance, they were the same. Callaban was of power and violence and jagged turmoil, just like Marius. Their intents and goals aligned, despite the stark difference in the way they portrayed it.

But Marius lacked something that Callaban had. 

A sworn oath. 

Callaban was loyal. To Lupa, to the pack, to Rome. 

Marius was not.

The son of Jupiter sometimes wondered which one was right.)

"Jason." There was nothing off about the voice that greeted him when he and Percy stumbled into the training room, or as the latter liked to call it, the arena.

Percy startled a bit, blinking owlishly at the wolf that had just spoken, entranced and probably mildly weirded out by the red fur. "Your fur is really red," he stated the obvious, before Jason could stop him. The last thing someone wanted to do was get his attention.

Too late.

Marius's gaze left Jason's to instead focus on Percy, and the son of Jupiter felt his gut churn in dread. 

"And you're very unimpressive," the wolf remarked, eyes gleaming with amusement. Percy bristled indignantly, and the wolf clearly relished the defiance. 

"Sorry we're late," Jason interrupted before things could get out of hand. 

Marius snorted. "I already told you, you don't have to be so polite. Save that for Lupa. You always give me such a bad reputation." He grinned winningly. "I'm not mad you guys are late, you know? I'm not like Aurelia. Or Callaban."

A well earned bad reputation my ass, Jason thought sullenly. I'd prefer Aurelia and Callaban over you any day. 

Marius rolled his eyes, as if he knew exactly what the son of Jupiter was thinking. 

"Are you like, a god too?" Percy asked, voice cutting through the silence that had fallen over them. 

"No."

Liar, Jason chanted defiantly, hoping the sheer force of his indignance would give him and the red wolf a temporary telepathic connection. If he was going to die regardless, he would go down swinging. Like a true Roman. 

"But your fur    "

"Is natural," the wolf said smoothly. 

Liar, Jason chanted even harder. He was sure Lupa would be proud of him. 

"Enough questions now," Marius said before Percy could ask anything else. "Time's ticking. Quite quickly, I might add. Maybe if you two weren't so late, there'd be enough time for more questions."

"We overslept," he replied flatly. No one wants to ask you any questions anyways. "Once again, sorry."

There were sometimes when stalling and sharing information was the right move, and sometimes when it was the biggest mistake anyone could make. Marius fell into the second category: the more you gave him to work with, the more he'd find a way to use it against you, and the more you'd regret it. 

As much as Jason loathed how he had to apologize     he could already predict the absolute smugness     a short, straight to the point answer was the best. 

"You? Oversleep? I just cannot fathom why."

Dammit. 

"You said time's ticking," Percy jumped in when it was clear that the entire situation was going downhill. "Since we're already late, why don't we get on with it?" 

You're the one wasting the time now, went unsaid, but hung through the air. The son of Neptune's eyes were sharp with defiance. 

Jason cheered inwardly, throwing the concept of respect out the window. Even if just briefly.

Everything usually went out the window when being around Marius. 

"You're right." A pause. "And very enthusiastic. I like that attitude," Marius drawled lazy. "Very different from Jason here. He acts all cold and distant when I try to talk to him. Even though I practically raised him. Ungrateful, am I right?"

Percy's mouth opened and closed a few times, and shot Jason a quick glance. "Uh, yeah, right. Really ungrateful."

It would've been persuasive if not for the underlying sarcasm that Marius was sure to have picked up on. The blond noticed the drumming of Percy's fingers against his arm again, and shot him a daring grin in reassurance. 

"I'm glad you agree." His smirk took on a nefarious edge. "Now. Lets start with Jason. Put on a good show for your new friend, filius Diovis."

(Unbeknownst to the two, the wolf's eyes were intrigued.

And the only thing more dangerous than a bored wolf, was an interested one.) 

Percy watched as the red wolf     Marius, Jason called him,     lunged at the blond haired demigod, who rolled out of the way with practiced grace. 

Without his ADHD, he wouldn't have been able to follow along with everything, each turn of the feet, each combination of ducks and rolls, each flurrying blow aimed at the shoulders, the back of the head, the legs. 

Nor would he have been able to follow the flashes of white: long canines bared in a delighted snarl, the sharp gleam of Jason's eyes when he predicted     or caught sight of another move     the short, almost unidentifiable pauses where the two would take a break and eye each other cautiously. 

Or well, Jason would eye Marius cautiously, panting and out of breath. Marius would just look amused. 

Things were going well until Marius bowled Jason over with the force of a freight train. 

The son of Jupiter flew back and keeled over with a wheezing noise, the sound you made when the air got knocked out of your lungs. He lay on the ground, chest heaving in an attempt to recover. His expression was more annoyed than anything though. 

Marius stalked over to him, snorting. "That was quicker than usual. What are you focusing on? It's clearly not this. I'm offended."

Jason mumbled something that sounded outrageously not respectful     what a hypocrite     and Marius snorted again.

A sudden pit of dread opened in his stomach.

It wasn't a pretty sound. Percy wondered if it'd be worse up close, or if he'd be too busy trying to breath to care.

Jason hissed out something again, clearly as outrageously not respectful as the last, and Marius huffed, nudging the blond to his feet more harshly than needed. 

Percy expected the two to resume the fight. What he didn't expect, for Marius to jerk his head around, amber eyes burning into Percy's, and call: "Filius Neptunum, you're up."

Jason shot him a pitying but encouraging look.

Why.

If only he hadn't tried stopping for cheeseburgers. If only he had chosen a better weather to run away.

Then maybe Lupa wouldn't have found him, huddling in the mud as the evil snake ladies hissed above him.

His legs carried him mechanically to the wolf, barely registering the son of Jupiter's whispered "good luck," when their shoulders brushed against each other.

"Uh," he muttered when it was clear the wolf wouldn't be breaking the silence. "What are we doing?"

Marius tilted his head unnervingly, and for a moment, didn't reply. Percy got the feeling that he was asking himself that too: which way to break the son of Neptune would be the most effective. Something he wasn't too keen about. He would rather stay unbroken, thank you very much. 

But Marius was a jerk, of course he was, and he clearly didn't share the same sentiment. "Just dodge," he finally replied briskly, and then moved. 

Percy dodged the first blow by luck. He had barely managed to gather himself, and the only reason he managed moved back in time was thanks to his ADHD, which had picked up on the red blur, and his gut screaming at him to move. 

He sputtered indignantly, scrambling to the side when Marius lunged again, feet trying to get a hold on the scratchy arena floor. It suddenly seemed a lot more slippery than it had been when he first came in. 

He cursed under his breath. 

"Not bad," the wolf snickered. 

Shut up, the son of Neptune thought resentfully. 

Then he leapt forward and all the outrageously not respectful thoughts Percy had been having turned into panic.

He yelped when he was met with a ball of red fur and snapping teeth, flailing in an attempt to get the wolf off him. When that didn't work, Percy hissed and adrenaline kicked in. His leg shot out harshly, and satisfaction coursed through his veins as his foot made contact with something soft. 

Marius let out a low growl and drew back. 

Jason made an approving holler from the sidelines. 

"Wait!" He yelled when the wolf pressed forward again, not giving him anytime to think. "Shouldn't I, you know, learn something first?! Instead of jumping around while you try to bite me?!"

"But that wouldn't be nearly as fun," Marius replied mockingly. "Save those lessons for Aurelia. She likes being nice and boring."

"What makes you so confident that you're not boring?" Percy shot back. 

Jason buried his face into his hands and let out a groan. But the son of Neptune was sure that the gleam in his eyes wasn't just a trick of the light. Nor was the faint twitching of his lips.   

Before he could chortle about how the son of Jupiter was being a hypocrite with all the things he preached before, teeth sunk into the back of his collar. He thrashed wildly in an attempt to break free, but unsurprisingly, it didn't work.

It didn't matter. If he couldn't get free, he'd make keeping those teeth in his shirt as difficult as possible.  

"Attacking from the back?" He complained loudly, and very promptly stepped on the wolf's foot.

Marius made a disgruntled, mildly annoyed noise from above him that was muffled, and started dragging him across the room. Percy squawked when his feet left the ground, and okay yeah, he was starting to panic. 

"Still boring?"

The world was flipped on his head, and Percy had barely registered what happened when his back hit the wall, bones rattling painfully from the impact. Gods, fuck. He winced. That was gonna bruise for sure. 

"Woah, you okay?" Jason asked, sounding concerned. 

The son of Neptune grumbled under his breath,     did he look like he was okay?     and groped blindly for the hand that he knew would be there to help him up. 

Jason pulled him to his feet, and Percy sent Marius an annoyed scowl. 

The blond haired demigod gave him a look so sharp it could cut steel.

Oops. 

"Your mother was an interesting woman."

Percy stopped from where he was throwing halfhearted punches at Jason, who blinked and dropped his fists as well.

(Why they had to start with just punching, he didn't know. Especially when there was an armory full of sharp weapons just a few halls above. Jason insisted it was for when you lost your gladius, but he personally didn't think it made any sense. The weapons were magical or something. Couldn't they just, return to you? Like Thor's hammer?)

But none of that mattered particularly. Not right now at least.

Usually nothing did when his mother was brought up. 

His mother, who was loving and kind and beautiful in so many ways. His mother, who brought him as much sweets as she could, who smiled and helped him read through stories even though the bags under her eyes were dark with the many nights of no sleeping.

His mother, who his father didn't deserve at all. 

His mother hid many things from him. She had a lot of secrets, mostly about his missing parent. Percy was never oblivious to it. 

Afterall, most mothers didn't hide things about their father.

Most mothers would sigh dreamily and talk about their first meeting with delight and enthusiasm and soft glee. Some would show their child pictures of their wedding or their first date. Others would tell their children to find someone like their present significant other.

Not his mother. She never spoke with that gentleness, not about his father at least. She always looked sad. Wistful, and in a happy way, but sad nonetheless. 

It was hard to be oblivious when your mother was in a perpetual state of nostalgia. 

"He had an obsession with storms", he remembered her saying as they watched the sea writhe and froth against the pale, sandy dunes. Salt had clung to the air and his skin had prickled as he watched the foamy waves swallow everything in it's path, including the sandcastle he had made. "I thought it was intriguing."

And then she'd turn to Percy, and say: "You have his eyes, you know? Eyes like the sea."

So when the words had left Marius' lips, Percy, who hadn't seen his mother in     in what felt like so long, who missed her anchoring footsteps by the door every night before he slept, he could only stare. 

"What?" he whispered, stunned. 

Marius tilted his head, amused. "She was quite charming, you know? Kind and gentle, but not a pushover. Never a pushover. I suppose that was how she attracted the attention of Lord Neptune."

"How do you know that?" he demanded. 

"I have my ways."

And that     that     it had to be fake. It must be. Jason had warned him that Marius was a sadistic liar. It was fake. He was getting his hopes up.

But.

The way he spoke wasn't like he had heard such things from someone else, it was as if he had met his mother and seen everything for himself, which     surely it was impossible. 

Surely.

"Tell me more," he said sharply. 

Marius snorted. "How about...no?"

Percy took a bold step forward, angry all of a sudden. Jason gave him a warning look, a little worried, but also unsurprised.

That only made him more angry.

What was the point of mentioning his mother if you weren't even gonna elaborate?

"Be careful around him," Jason had said seriously on their way to the arena. "He's smart. He'll make you beg and then regret it. It's best not to trust a single word that leaves his mouth."

Clearly Percy had underestimated what he had said. 

"You're slipping up," the wolf in question said in such a calm voice that it made Percy want to punch him. "Keep at it, and I won't tell you anything else."

The son of Neptune stilled. 

Jason sighed, and looked away before Percy could catch his expression. 

Lupa had told him once, a long time ago, about true Romans. 

Jason was younger back then, brimming with enthusiasm and naivety. He was of poorly hidden expressions and too much questions, which he often badgered the wolves about endlessly. 

"A true Roman warrior do not stand and wait for death," she had intoned then. They had been admiring stone murals and the frayed letters that were engraved into the walls. "They seek it out and face it on their own."

It sure sounded pretty, like glory on the battlefield, but it didn't have much of an impact on Jason. He was used to hearing those things. The pack had a habit of spewing fractured, indecipherable quotes that he never had the willpower to actually decipher. And he had learned from a young age, that pretty things died quickly.

What did have impact on him was the way Lupa looked at him afterwards, and asked: "What are you, Jason?"

"A true Roman," he had replied dutifully. 

"You're wrong. That is who you strive to be."

"Oh."

He still remembered that feeling of dismay, of uncertainty. He was born to step into that role. If he wasn't then what was he? Was Lupa telling him he wasn't good enough?

And then     

You are nothing.

Lupa hadn't said it out loud, but her eyes gave her away. You are nothing, but you can become anything. 

A pause. 

"Just be careful of who you choose to become, Jason Grace."

"You look like you're thinking too hard," a familiar, lazy drawl came from beside him. 

Jason stiffened, abruptly losing his train of thoughts, but didn't say anything. He knew better than to rise to the provocations of Marius     he had learned the hard way     and that wasn't going to change just because Percy had arrived.

"Do you think you'll be the Romulus to his Remus?"

What?

"No?" Jason replied, bewildered. Was Marius insinuating that one day he and Percy would end up like the brothers who conquered everything but themselves? That was pretty poetic and all, but he didn't want to play the role of Romulus in the story. Deep down, he didn't want to play any role.

"Are you sure?"

The two looked at the black haired demigod, who was busy running laps around the arena     he had been stupid enough to make a bet with Marius     and Jason raised an eyebrow in steely neutrality. 

Lupa had taught him that, and the rare things that she drilled into his mind that weren't just threats or ominous workings were glorious.  

"I'm sure." 

"Ah, come one. You're so bland sometimes. It's like talking to a stone pillar. Very boring."

"Thanks," Jason replied dryly. 

There was a pause where the two stared at Percy again, who was still defiantly running the laps. He looked like he was turning green, which was     once again     ironic. 

Jason's lips twitched at the sullen glares he threw at Marius. He wasn't sure if they were quirking upwards, into a small smile, or downwards, into an exasperated frown. The latter would be more appropriate of course, but he had a sneaking suspicion he was doing the former. 

Well. Everything went out the window when it came to Marius. 

"He has something that you lack, you know?"

The son of Jupiter's eyebrows climbed up his forehead slowly; he was mildly disbelieved. It was an awfully vague statement, which was what the wolf excelled at. Jason was, admittedly, curious. A risky emotion on his part. 

Percy did have many things he lacked. A caring parent. Black hair. Skin free from tattoos. He doubted that was what Marius was referring to, however.  

"Why don't you kindly enlighten me about it?"

"I think you already know," the wolf smirked wryly. "One day you'll admit it."

Right, of course. 

Stupid bitch. 

"Oh, also, Jason?"

"Yes?"

"Ten laps for the unnecessary politeness. It was faker than your father's marriage."

Oh well ouch. 

The clouds gathering in the distance suddenly seemed for more ominous than before. 

("The son of Neptune will know his place," Lupa would say later on while the two demigods slept, the moon nothing but a thin claw in the night sky. 

"Will he?" Marius mused in response. "Well, perhaps. Jason is a natural born leader. To Percy, his restraints. A true Roman, huh?" A pause. "He'll keep Jackson in place for sure. He already does. The real question is will it last."

"We are Roman, not Greek," she replied coldly. "Of course we'll last. We have lasted for centuries, and we will continue lasting. Jackson is hardly the first child of Neptune we have received. Nor will he be the last."

"Yes," Marius chuffed. "And what did the last child of Neptune do, exactly?"

Judging from Lupa's expression, he had around five minutes to run.

Riling the she-wolf up was always so fun. 

"If you have something to say, something you noticed, then say it. Don't try to beat around the bush. Mystery is not a good look on you."

"An open mind on you is not either. We can pretend you learn your lessons without having it be carved into your skin. Truthfully, nothing I     we     can say will change your mind. I wonder why Callaban still bothers."

"Watch your words," Lupa drawled. "If you're not careful, your blathering mouth will outweigh your benefits."

She didn't attack him for stating the     sensitive     truth, which meant she was clearly in a good mood. 

Still, Marius rolled his eyes mockingly and turned to go. 

"Remember, I'm not the one hopelessly bound to this place. It wouldn't matter much to me if things went down, but..." 

A snicker. 

"It'd matter to you.")

Halfway through running laps, Percy was joined by Jason, who looked extremely indignant. Then again, he was feeling extremely indignant, so perhaps it was just him projecting. It didn't matter, either way, the son of Jupiter didn't look pleased. Not looking pleased could technically mean indignance so...

"What did you do?" Percy asked, wheezing in between the words. His lungs burned in exertion, and he was pretty sure he was gonna vomit soon if Marius didn't call quits.

Which was an infuriating thought. 

"You don't have to do anything for Marius to make you run laps," Jason pointed out reasonably as he jogged beside Percy. The furrow in his eyebrows indicated that he was more irritated than he was showing though. 

"We should be safe soon though, right? Surely he can't make us run for the entire day."

"We are supposed to have classes     actual classes not training,     in the afternoon," Jason said thoughtfully. 

"Thank gods," Percy groaned. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait for those afternoon classes. What do we learn? History? Mythology?"

Jason frowned. "Sometimes. It's not considered the most important though."

"Then what counts as important?"

"Strategies, techniques, famous plays."

"Woah," Percy said, very eloquently. "Like, battle stuff?"

"The variations in the structure of an army, when and where to use them, things like that."

"Are we gonna be leading armies?!" Percy sputtered incredulously. 

"That's usually the end goal, yes."

"The end goal is to be a general? Is New Rome just a military base made up of Roman demigods?"

That...didn't sound wrong, actually.

"The end goal, or well, the usual goal is to get stronger and get promoted. The highest positions are Consuls, but as far as I know, no one has been elected for such position in a long time. The second highest positions are Praetors. They're not just generals, but they do have to do things a general has a to do."

"Sounds like a lot of unnecessary responsibility," Percy muttered under his breath. 

"I guess..." Jason admitted slowly. He shook himself out. "I mean, it's probably gonna be us."

"What? Why?"

"Our parents," the son of Jupiter clarified. He was a bit impressed with how the black haired demigod was still able to put tone in his words when he had just ran twenty laps around the arena. "We're born for that position."

"Isn't my dad like...outlawed?"

Jason cracked a smile at this. "They tried, but he got angry. So while they express distaste for everything he does, they can't outright state it or do anything unless they want to die." 

Percy's eyes gleamed. "Sounds interesting."

In the end, they didn't go to their afternoon classes. Marius cancelled them, and instead, they were forced to continue running laps like there was no end to running laps. 

Percy would have an easier time catching the sun in the far horizon. 

"Was it because we were late?" he bemoaned pitifully, pretty much dragging himself back to their room for the night. 

To his reassurance and delight      misery loves company afterall,     Jason wasn't doing much better. He had gone a few more rounds with Marius, which involved drawing his gladius, and very promptly got knocked back. It turned out that the sword could turn into something else, in this case a gold coin, which the son of Jupiter casually pocketed afterwards. 

"Marius is like that on a good day," Jason sighed in resignation. "He would do it if he felt like it, regardless. This time, we gave him the excuse."

"Great. It won't be him tomorrow, right?" Percy had spent exactly one day with the red wolf, which was already one day too much. 

"Well, hopefully?" 

Percy made an unintelligible noise of frustration. He could barely breath without turning into a a sputtering mess. He could barely feel his legs, and he was pretty sure that if they had mouths, they'd be shrieking at him. He could barely raise his arms     which, how could he strangle Marius as a wriggling lump of meat on the floor?  

"Jase," he said, voice serious. 

Jason gave him a wary look. "No."

"What? I haven't even said anything yet!"

"It doesn't matter. The answer is still no."

"Hear me out."

"No."

"Just listen, it's a great plan     "

"No."

Percy pouted indignantly. "When I execute it alone and it works, you are going to fall onto your knees and start crying in gratefulness."

"Oh well, thank gods you can't make a plan for shit. It'd be embarrassing for me to fall onto my knees and start crying in gratefulness. I was almost worried, but you've reassured me greatly."

The son of Neptune tried to punch him in the arm, but his arm only jerked once     oh that was definitely not normal,     and abruptly refused to work anymore. 

He scowled regardless, as if nothing had happened. "I'm stealing your bed for that."

"You're wait     what?"

Percy burst into a run and immediately fell face first into the floor. 

Nevermind then.

The sound of Jason's cackling filled the night sky as they trudged wearily to their room. 

The moment Percy touched his bed, all the energy was drained from him and he slumped onto it with a sound of relief. The cot was dry and creaky, and there were no comforting footsteps outside, but he was too tired to care.

"Night," Jason called, voice muffled as if he was burying his head into the pillow. 

"Night," Percy mumbled back.

Then he was out cold, a small smile on his lips as he dreamt of marble and sea salt and a voice telling him congratulations. 

a fronte praecipitium, a tergo lupi