Chapter Text
Children of Aphrodite are easily manipulated. Their mother's influence bestows them with the naive notion that love conquers all. Their loyalty is guided by their hearts, no matter how ill-begotten a sentiment can be. It makes them malleable, weak. All it takes is a word of praise, a caress of the cheek, a hollow promise, and they will throw themselves on the sword in the name of love.
But they do have their uses.
"Luke! Thank the gods you're alive. Percy said you fell off a mountain!"
"Percy did not kill me, Silena," Luke assures her through their magic scythe charms. It is a clever enchantment to circumvent Silena's inability to communicate through mortal technology, and a generous gift from Lord Kronos. "Tell me, what happened at camp when he returned?"
Silena's melodic voice takes on a metallic tone through the charm, the sound ringing in Luke's ears like a struck tuning fork. "Well, the mood was pretty bleak. That demigod they rescued, Bianca, she didn't survive the quest. Any sense of accomplishment regarding Atlas's defeat was fairly muted, you know."
"I see. That is a shame. What of her brother?" Luke asks. "Has he been claimed yet?"
"Yeah…that's what I wanted to tell you," Silena says. "I overheard Percy saying that Nico opened a chasm to the Underworld right in the middle of camp and banished some undead."
Luke's eyebrows shoot toward his hairline as he takes in this news. "So Hades has been hiding his children, then. Another candidate for the prophecy."
"Yeah. Percy only told Annabeth and Grover when he thought they were alone. He made them promise not even to tell Chiron. Clearly he doesn't want anyone finding out."
Luke chuckles. "I bet not. This is useful information, Silena. Very useful. Keep an eye on this son of Hades until I can collect him."
Silena hesitates. "I would, but…he disappeared. He's not here."
Luke's eye twitches, and he forcibly steadies his voice. "Where did he go?"
"No one knows," Silena admits, and her tone is shaky with regret. "We lost him."
"Well then," Luke says, already preparing search plans in his head. "We'd better find him before someone else does."
—
Luke's scouts take up the search for Nico, with orders to alert him immediately if the boy is found. They are dispatched to every site that might mean something to him: The Lotus Hotel in Los Angeles, Hephaestus's junkyard in Death Valley, Westover Hall — Luke even sends one group of wind spirits to scour Venice, Italy, the boy's birthplace. Silena, too, is monitoring Camp Half-Blood in case Nico decides to come back, or if Chiron receives any updates on his whereabouts. Luke knows there is a chance he could be hiding in the Underworld, but the army's reach is limited there. Kronos's only allies in the Underworld are confined to Tartarus, and it's not likely that any sane person would travel there willingly, son of Hades or not.
Finally, after weeks of frustrating, fruitless searching, a recon squad of dracenae report a particularly strong-smelling demigod who matches Nico's description somewhere in Ohio.
Of all places to locate the linchpin of the great prophecy, Luke wasn't expecting to find Nico alone at a rural McDonald's at three in the morning. Yet here the boy is, clutching a crumpled bill and very seriously ordering eight chocolate milkshakes. He doesn't turn around when Luke enters with a few of his Cyclops guards, so all Luke sees at first is a little kid in an aviator jacket that was made for a much larger adult man.
Luke steps up to the counter beside him, and only then does Nico glance his way. He has dark eyes that look even darker under the shadow of his overgrown black bangs. It could be the glare of the restaurant's artificial light, but his complexion appears closer to a pale green than the rosy cheeks of a healthy youth. The bruised-looking skin under his eyes complements the "bedraggled hermit" look nicely.
"There you are," Luke announces, right as Nico opens his mouth to speak. Luke sets a heavy hand on Nico's shoulder, making him flinch, then offers his most winsome smile to the woman at the register. "My cousin raided his dad's wallet and made a break for ice cream." He rolls his eyes as if to say, kids, right?
The woman gives him a bland expression that could potentially appear amused in different lighting. Luke can't blame her for such listlessness. He has heard that mortal employees of establishments such as this endure conditions that would make the denizens of Tartarus cringe.
Nico shakes Luke's hand off. "Leave me alone," he grumbles.
"How about just one milkshake and I'll pay?" Luke says, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with the underpaid night shift worker. "What flavor do you like? Chocolate?"
"I said go away!"
Luke ignores him to complete his order. "He'll have chocolate," he says, handing over a bill from his pocket.
A few minutes later, Luke guides Nico over to a sticky plastic table by the front window, where the kid slumps down in his seat and makes no indication of partaking in the milkshake. The Cyclopes stand intimidatingly in front of them, sharing a pouch of French fries. Their job is to create privacy, even though there are no other customers and Luke doubts the employees have even a passing interest in their business.
"So, cousin," Luke begins, leaning forward on his elbows. "What's your name?"
Nico doesn't answer, only scowls harder.
"I'm Luke. Luke Castellan."
Nico's black eyes flash up to him for a split second, and that's all the information Luke needs. "Percy told you about me?" he guesses.
"…I'm not supposed to talk to you," Nico mutters.
"You're also not supposed to have sugar after 9," Luke counters, pushing the milkshake closer to him. "What are you doing here at this hour?"
"None of your business," Nico sneers, predictably. "Are you here to kill me, or what?"
Luke laughs at that. "Oh, gods, of course not. No one wants you dead, Nico." Nico's posture stiffens suddenly, and Luke continues, "Oh, yes, I know your name. I've heard all about you. You've got quite the famous father. Do you know who he is, Nico?"
"My father is a god," Nico says.
"Mine, too," Luke replies easily. "But your father is a special god, isn't he? The god of the dead."
Nico eyes him with no small amount of suspicion. His expression is carefully inscrutable, but Luke can see his fingers trembling. A smirk ticks up the corner of Luke's mouth, like a hunter who's cornered his prey.
Luke sits back. "Did you know your parentage makes you especially formidable? There is a whole prophecy just about you, one that scares the gods right down to their bones. Nico, you have more power than every other demigod combined." He narrows his eyes, calculating. "Did Percy tell you that?"
"What do you want with me?" Nico demands, his tone breaking out of its level calm. Luke feels a chill surrounding them that has nothing to do with the McDonald's intermittent AC.
"I want to be your ally," Luke says.
"I don't need anyone's help!"
Luke grins. "That's too bad, Nico. Because it's really not up to you."
Nico's eyes widen in alarm and he moves to stand, but the Cyclopes' huge meaty hands are already locked around his arms, lifting him right off his feet. The extra material of his jacket constricts in their grip, revealing just how skinny his body really is. A wicked black sword of Stygian iron materializes in his hand, but he can hardly swing it while restrained. He thrashes and kicks, a furious scream erupting from his throat, but he ought to know the mortals aren't coming to help.
"Don't let him touch the ground," Luke orders the guards. He dumps the milkshake in the trash on their way out the door. "Children of Hades are known to shadow travel."
—
Most holding cells in the brig of the Princess Andromeda are dimly lit, on account of being below the surface of the water. Though Luke did have the foresight to have one fitted with diffuse lighting and white walls. The soft light results in a bright room, casting no shadows.
Nico di Angelo sits against the far wall, curled up on the floor. There is a futon shoved up in one corner, but the boy seems too suspicious to make use of it. He is still wearing the clothes Luke found him in — black jeans, a T-shirt with skull designs, and that oversized aviator jacket.
A Cyclops guard opens the door for Luke, and he steps inside. Normally he would speak through the window to prisoners, but he doesn't want Nico to feel like a prisoner on this ship. Not entirely.
"I am impressed with you, Nico," Luke says, squatting down to eye level. "You've managed to frustrate my previously unflappable lieutenant. He says you refuse to talk to him."
Nico does not even raise his eyes, only tightening his hold on his own arms in response.
"Do you dislike Ethan? I thought perhaps you two would get along, sharing this brooding Chthonic personality and all," Luke says.
"I don't care about him," Nico grumbles. His voice sounds raspy, likely due to disuse.
"Hold that thought. Let me get you some water," Luke offers. Nico says nothing, so Luke stands and exchanges some words with one of the guards. A few moments later he sits back down, handing a bottle of water to Nico.
Nico glares at it for a second, but he must really be thirsty, because he snatches it out of Luke's hand and gulps down half of it in one go. He wipes his mouth with the back of his arm, then flashes his eyes up to Luke's face for a split second. "…Thanks," he mutters.
Luke smiles. "I want to help you, not torture you," he says. "I regret that I cannot let you go, but that doesn't make you my prisoner."
"I don't need anyone's help," Nico reiterates. "You want me to fight for your army. Percy wanted me to fight for Camp Half-Blood. I don't need either of you."
Luke nods, considering. "What do you need, then? It's hard to get anything done on your own in this world. I meant it when I said I want to be your ally."
"Why do you care?" Nico demands. "You don't know me."
Luke shrugs. "I'm curious. Humor me."
Nico's fingers tighten in the fabric of his jacket, his jaw clenched like the prospect of opening up physically pains him. Eventually he grits out the words, "My sister. I need my sister back."
"Where did she go?" Luke asks.
"…To our father's house," Nico says, barely audible. "To the Underworld."
Luke nods, letting his words hang in the space between them for a few moments. He tries his best to pretend he didn't already know this, his face a careful mask of grim sobriety. "I'm sorry. Losing people is difficult, and unfortunately commonplace when you're a demigod."
"I didn't lose her!" Nico asserts, his voice suddenly charged with vehemence. "I know exactly where she is. I'm the son of Hades. I know that I can bring her back!"
"She must be really important to you," Luke observes. "I never had siblings, myself."
"She's the only important thing in the world," Nico says. His words are half-caught in his throat as his emotions get the better of him. "She — Bianca is all I have. Our mother is gone, we have no home. I don't even belong in this century. I don't care about being a demigod, not if I don't have my sister."
Luke averts his gaze to give Nico the illusion of privacy while he scrubs his eyes with his sleeve. "It may be difficult, raising the dead. Your father is notoriously strict on the 'no escape from the Underworld' policy. Even when there are people there who belong up here, like your sister."
Nico looks at him with his red, raw eyes.
"Orpheus tried and failed," Luke continues. "Sisyphus faces eternal punishment for his attempt at evading death. But it wasn't the Underworld that stopped either of them, was it? It was always Hades."
Nico sniffles. "So?"
"So if Hades were to lose his authority over the shades…over Bianca," Luke says. "There would be nothing stopping you from bringing her back from the Underworld."
Nico scoffs. "That won't happen. My father has been the Lord of the Dead for thousands of years."
"True," Luke says, inclining his head. "But Lord Kronos is rising, for the first time in thousands of years. The Titan King wants to reclaim the throne that the gods usurped from him and his brethren. Gods will fall before us, and we will be able to reshape the world free of their tyranny. That means Hades won't have the power to stop you once Lord Kronos reawakens."
Nico bites his cheek as he considers this, a faraway look in his eye. "Kronos won't…kill him, right? He's — Hades is still my family."
Luke shakes his head. "The gods are immortal; they cannot be killed. They will likely be imprisoned the way the titans were before them."
"Then…" Nico swallows, and meets Luke's eyes with his dark stare. "What do you need me to do?"
—
Luke still has guards posted around Nico all day long, but over the past few months Luke has begun to trust him not to shadow travel without permission. Even if he did, Luke's not sure he would be able to get very far. He's clearly new to his abilities, his power raw and untempered by training or experience. And regardless, he seems content to remain with the Titan army, convinced that his goals align with Luke's enough to cooperate.
One day, Luke catches sight of the boy and his prison guard entourage visiting him in the midst of his daily drill practice on the main deck of the ship, which has been converted to a kind of cramped training arena. Luke wipes the sweat from his brow and makes his way over.
"Is something amiss? Has your energy recovered from the necromancy rite?" he asks, sheathing Backbiter in the scabbard over his shoulder.
"Your sword is cool," Nico says, completely dodging the question of his wellbeing. "Can I see it?"
"You have your own sword."
Nico stares at him like that's completely irrelevant.
Luke sighs. "Alright." He withdraws his blade again and turns the grip in his hand, letting the kid get a good look. "This is Backbiter. This half is celestial bronze," he says, pointing to demonstrate. "It's useful for killing monsters, but has no effect on mortals. The other half is steel, which —"
"Which kills mortals but not monsters," Nico interrupts. "Demigods are vulnerable to both."
Luke raises his eyebrows. "Right. You know about that already, then?"
"Percy taught me about weapons," Nico says. "He didn't teach me how to actually use them, though."
Luke re-sheathes the sword and puts his hands on his hips. "Well, you know who taught Percy, right?"
Nico shakes his head, then glimpses Luke's smirk. "No way. You did?"
"Back when I was a counselor at Camp Half-Blood," Luke confirms.
"Can you teach me?" Nico pleads, with more life in his voice than Luke has heard so far. "My father gave me my Stygian iron sword, but he doesn't have time to show me swordplay. No one does."
Luke doesn't really have time either, but he can recognize an opportunity to cement the boy's loyalty when he sees one. He nods. "Sure, I can give you some lessons. Come into the ring. And guards — stay where you are. Let him breathe for a minute."
Nico smiles, another first in the time he's been with Luke. It makes him look so much younger, like he's actually eleven years old. Without all the extra weary years that being a half-blood adds on.
He's more than a little clumsy as he stumbles over the basics, but Luke has to give him points for enthusiasm. His investment makes him attentive to instruction and determined in his efforts, and by the end of an hour he's more or less got the hang of a few combat maneuvers. It's not much, but it's enough to get Nico on his feet and practice on his own. And Luke spent enough years teaching swordplay at Camp Half-Blood that he knows to focus on the most important moves that will keep a rookie alive in a pinch.
When Nico returns to his guard entourage, he's swinging his sword in some of the drill motions that Luke showed him. "Hey, be careful with that thing, okay?" Luke says, grabbing Nico at the wrist when his blade gets too close to Luke's face. "It's a weapon, not a toy."
Nico frowns, and with a flex of his fingers the black sword dissipates into shadows. "I know that. Don't talk to me like I'm a child."
Luke releases his wrist and stands back. "I hate to break this to you, but you are a child."
"No, I'm not," Nico mutters. He steps out of the arena and turns to leave. "Not anymore."
Such a statement from a mortal preteen would make Luke roll his eyes and scoff, but Luke has seen enough demigods barely older than Nico meet their deaths over the years. Luke sighs and watches Nico make his way across the deck, thinking that he can't fault the kid for growing up too fast.