Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Styx told me to remember the lesson, and to be fair, I really did try. But in that time, hanging over Chaos, the empty void devouring my weak mortal flesh, I got to thinking. What if the lesson wasn’t what it seemed? It was like Hermes was always saying. Gods can’t change. If I became a god again, what was to stop me from just falling back into old familiar habits? And those old familiar habits I now knew hurt people. Would the world be better if I just… didn’t exist? I shook my head to free those clinging thoughts from my brain, gripping tighter onto the ledge with renewed vigor.

Yet I couldn’t pull himself back up, and the pain kept climbing as Chaos tore away at my essence. Hours must’ve passed before my thoughts wandered again, and I made the mistake of looking down. Chaos was indescribable. Perhaps akin to space. An empty void of just… nothing. Like the universe’s oldest black hole. It was fascinating and it captivated me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. 

Chaos was alive, just like any immortal. Alive, with opinions, maybe a conscience, though that was rare among immortals. As far as I knew no one had ever communicated with Chaos. How might it feel to talk to someone that much older and more powerful than you? Perhaps it was like when a mortal spoke to me. Four thousand three hundred years older than them and able to kill them in the blink of an eye. Chaos was before anyone, before time itself. It was the first thing in existence. It was the definition of ‘ancient,’ and was the only thing with the capability to kill an immortal. How humbling would it be for the gods to talk with Chaos?

Chaos was the only being capable of killing an immortal. But how did anyone know that? Had Chaos killed before? Would it care? Or if it did, could it control it? Perhaps it may not want to kill, but anything that fell into its depths was torn apart. Did it feel guilt from that or was it apathetic like every other immortal?

As I stared into the depths, I realized That if I lived, my life would be pointless. I couldn’t do anything against my father, and I couldn’t do anything to help the mortals, even if I wanted to. I’d be helpless, only risking turning back into my horrible previous apathetic mindset that would hurt everyone in the future. So why exist?

I let go.

Chapter Text

I jerked awake. I sat up fast, covers falling away from him, confusion flooding my brain. How was I alive? I fell into Chaos. No one survives that. I didn’t have time to ponder, however, as the door opened and my attention snapped to it. An older Latina woman closed the door behind her, seemingly unaware of me watching her warily from the bed. She looked maybe fifty years old, with dark brown hair with gray streaks. She wore a simple shirt and jeans that honestly were quite flattering on her. Her humming stopped abruptly when she turned around and saw me.

“Oh you’re awake!” Her voice was cheerful and disarming, but I didn’t relax. If my trials taught me anything, it was that monsters could seem nice sometimes. She held a tray in her hands with a sandwich and a glass of water. “I was hoping you’d wake up soon at least. I don’t know what I’d have done if you were comatose.” She gave a small chuckle, coming over and setting the tray down on the white bedside table. I tracked her with my gaze the whole way there, pulling the sheets up to my chest like they might protect me.

“Now, the sandwich is peanut butter and honey, if you don’t like that, do let me know. You’re very skinny, so I want to make sure you have food you like. You can call me over if you need more water.” I didn’t have time to react before her hand was on my head. I inhaled sharply and tensed my shoulders, but something stopped me from flinching back. My eyes met hers, deep brown ones with smile wrinkles on the side. They were kind eyes. If I’m be honest… they reminded me of my mother’s eyes, although hers were green. Those eyes were disarming, and I held my breath as her brow furrowed in concern.

“You’re so hot… You should stay here and rest, okay sweetie? If you need anything give me a holler, yeah?”

I was in fact feeling tired but I couldn’t just let her leave, so it was as she was opening the door to leave that I spoke up. My voice was raspy, like I hadn’t spoken in weeks. “Wait!” I fidgeted as she turned back to me, looking at me expectantly with that damn soft disarming smile on her face. “Wh- What happened?”

Her expression turned sad. “I don’t know. I was hoping you could tell me. I just found you in an alley, and I couldn’t just leave you alone.” She sighed. “But, you don’t need to worry about that. Just take some time to recover.” She went to leave, then turned back. “Oh! I didn’t even ask your name! I’m Amalija, but my friends just call me Lija. What’s your name?”

I opened my mouth, then paused. I only thought for a moment before I replied, “Lester.”

Lija smiled. “Lester. I like it. It’s a pretty name. Now get some rest, Lester. You gotta sleep that fever off.” And with that she was gone.

Honestly I would’ve thought more about what I was going to do going forward, but I was asleep the second I laid back down.

Chapter Text

When I woke up, sunlight was slanting through the window. I lay there for a minute, just staring at the ceiling. My sleep had been dreamless, a rarity for me. I sat up slowly, taking a drink from the water still on the bedside table. I ate a bit of the sandwich too. It was good.

Lija said I was hot, but while I felt tired I didn’t feel sick, (And yes, contrary to popular belief gods can get sick, I can tell you, having to care for a grumpy feverish Dionysus is an ugly experience), which probably meant I had at least some of my godly powers back, my power over the sun giving me a slightly raised body temperature.

I should’ve died. I should’ve ceased to exist when I fell into Chaos. Yet here I was, not only alive, but clearly with some level of divine power. I could feel how focused my presence was, like if I wanted to I could be doing twenty other things right now. I could feel the slight tingling in my fingers that had never been there during my trials. I felt… whole again.

I won’t lie. That scared me, just a bit. All this power I had; what if I abused it? What right did I have to use that power? I hadn’t earned it. I clenched my hands into fists, balling the sheets up on my lap. I was in the same situation as before. I couldn’t do anything because of Zeus’s bullshit rules. But if I couldn’t die…

I threw the bedsheets off, getting out of bed. I didn’t want to think anymore. I couldn’t be alone right now. Surely Amalija wouldn’t mind if I just went and found her, right? When I stood up, however, my legs buckled beneath me. I gasped, barely managing to catch myself on the edge of the bed. I sat there, panting. I was clearly weaker than I’d previously thought. I fought my way back to my feet and unsteadily made my way to the door.

By the time I got to what appeared to be the living area, I was panting heavily, and I leaned onto the couch, trying to catch my breath. Soft humming caught my attention and I tilted my head to better hear it.

She was humming a soft tune, one I recognized. How could I not? Kayla’s father loved it so much, he’d always sing it, though my voice was too deep to really fit. “Could I Have This Dance?” by Anne Murray. I remembered when it first came out.

I hadn’t realized that I’d come into the entrance of the kitchen watching Lija as she bustled about the kitchen. Whatever she was cooking smelled amazing and although I’d just eaten the sandwich, my stomach grumbled unhappily. Lija’s humming stopped abruptly and she looked up, smiling softly when she saw me. I pressed my hands to my stomach, embarrassed. Human food would only last me so long, but it wasn’t like I had access to ambrosia, and in my clearly weakened state, I couldn’t risk traveling.

Basically, I was stuck here until my strength returned or I could call for help.

Lija had set up two plates, and nudged me as she passed, saying, “Come on, now that you’re up and walking, we can eat together.” I obediently followed her into the next room, where a small table sat. She set the two plates down and settled in her chair, gesturing to the other one.

I sat down, mimicking her when she started eating. I hesitantly tried it, then kept eating remarkably fast. Not only was my body desperately reaching out for what it assumed would fuel me, but the food itself was just really good. I didn’t quite know what it was, it wasn’t something I’d familiarized myself with over the years.

Amalija saw me practically inhaling my food and grinned. “I’m glad you like it.”

I stopped like a dog that’d been caught eating off the table. I continued more slowly, replying, “I have never had something like this before.”

Lija nodded, “Cooking is one of my favorite hobbies. It’s like an art, where your medium is spices. My father always cooked the best dishes. I learned a lot from him. I haven’t had someone to cook for in the longest time.”

“...Oh,” was all I could think to say. What could you say in response to that?

“Anyway, enough about me. This is a discussion about you, mister,” Amalija said, leveling her fork at me. “How old are you?”

Over 4,000. “Sixteen.”

“So you are a minor,” Amalija said, her eyebrows drawing closer together with worry. “Where are your parents?”

I froze at that, not knowing what to say. I settled for a simple shrug, since that was probably the easiest response to go with. Even though I’d regained my godhood, my brain didn’t seem to be processing everything at the rate it should’ve. It felt slower than it had been even as a mortal.

A distant part of me registered that might be a problem, but its cries were drowned out in the more pressing matters my brain prioritized.

If it was possible for Amalija to look more worried, she did just that. “You don’t know? Are they looking for you?”

Again I hesitated. I always hated lying, despised it, in fact, and avoided the concept no matter the cost. I was always pissed off when someone lied to me, why shouldn’t I give what I expected? But it wasn’t exactly lying to say my parents weren’t looking for me. I shook my head.

“Alright. You’ll stay here. It’ll be nice to have company, at least for a short while. If you decide you don’t want to live with me, that’s fine, but at least stay here until we can find another place for you. I don’t want you out on the streets again.” Lija returned to focusing on her food, like she hadn’t just blown my mind with how welcoming she’d been. Back when I was still only a few decades old, people would open their hearths to strangers all the time. But that was mostly due to fear they’d turn a god away (not an invalid fear. You should see what Hera did to one family once. I couldn’t look at palm trees the same way again), not genuine kindness. Nowadays it was even less common, though maybe that was just a United States thing. People didn’t just let strangers in, that was a surefire way to get murdered. Dealer’s choice as to who’s the murderer and who’s the murderee. Granted, I did still look like a lanky harmless teenage boy, but nonetheless it increased my suspicion of Amalija being a monster of some kind. I was still weak- and thus my presence wasn’t as strong. My scent would likely be similar to a demi-god’s. Monsters might come after me. But, like, come on, what were they going to do, kill me?

I felt very threatened.

I could use the time to recover. No doubt eventually my family would come for me to bring me back to Olympus, where I could hitch a ride with them and fully recover there. As good as Amalija’s cooking was, mortal food simply could not sustain an immortal, let alone help one to fully recover. Mortal food would provide temporary energy for an immortal in a tight pinch, but it wasn’t meant to be eaten long term.

Yes, I’ll simply wait for help to arrive, and in the meantime, enjoy Lija’s delicious dishes. Hadn’t I earned this? …Not really, but look, I’m going to take a vacation post-trials, if at least so I can have more energy before launching myself back into godly duties.

"I think I just watched a whole train of thought play out across your face, but I didn't understand any of it." I snapped back to the table at Lija's remark. She gave a wry smirk at my undoubtedly confused expression. "I'm sure you're tired, but you're welcome to join me for a movie tonight. If you feel up to it.” In a whirlwind of motion, she grabbed our plates and disappeared back into the kitchen. Well, maybe it was a whirl of motion or maybe my eyes simply weren’t processing things as much. I’m thinking having that much mortal food all at once wasn’t great, and I don’t mean that it was too much for my stomach.

To be fair, I was going to actually watch the movie, but by the time I stumbled over and slumped onto the couch, the world spinning around me, I’d passed out.

I found myself in a dreamscape. It had been much too long since I’d been in one, it would’ve been long before my trials. But alas, something seemed off. My normal dreamscape is somewhat like a golden soup filled with the strings of prophecy, glowing green, tangled together, and occasionally splitting off or joining together like strands of yarn. But this felt different, and not just because I hadn’t been there in such a long time.

No, this time I stood in pitch blackness. Or, not quite. As my eyes seemed to adjust I found there was a purplish hue to the area, like a mist settled over a lake. Small flecks of silver were scattered throughout as well, giving the appearance of stardust that had been scattered upon a canvas. The only sound was my own breathing, loud to my own ears. 

I will admit to you, I have been afraid of the dark. I strongly believe any sensible person is. It is less a fear of the dark itself rather than what could be hiding in it. Something could be lurking, hunting you, and you would never know it. So please, forgive my fear when I tell you that my heart rate kicked up, and I stumbled backwards a few steps.

It was then that I heard the voice.

“Apollo.”

It wasn’t a threatening tone, but I’m not a fan of disembodied voices. “Wh-who are you?” I challenged, trying to ignore how I stuttered.

“Fear not, child. I have no wish to harm you. Quite the opposite in fact.”

I have no idea why I chose to focus on the least important part of what they’d said. “Hey, I’m not a child. I’m older than anything on earth by a long shot.”

Whatever was talking to me gave something akin to a demonic chuckle. It was like their voice had natural reverb, and pairing that with the deep voice and the darkness, well, it was mildly fear-inducing. “I assure you, I am much older than you.”

“Who are you then? Show yourself! I am a god, you cannot hide from me!”

“You may be a god, little one, but something tells me you cannot fend enough for yourself right now, let alone fend me off.” I deflated somewhat. Am I that easy to read? “Nevertheless, I will give you a form to look upon. If only so you may feel more comfortable in my presence.”

“Don’t say it like that,” I said, wrinkling my nose, but was distracted by the space around me shifting.

That purple mist seemed to coalecse in front of me, not quite solidifying, but becoming dense enough to hold the shape of a person. Or, close to a person anyway. They seemed similar to a tall human, with long legs and arms, however their ears were two floppy cow ears, and a tall array of antlers grew upon their head. They seemed to be wearing some kind of cloak, but it was difficult to tell through the fact that it was made of the same stuff that their body seemed to be made of. 

“Say it like what?” this new being questioned, appearing genuinely confused, and wow, if that voice did not match its newly acquired face.

“Don’t- don’t worry about it,” I said. “If you aren’t here to do me harm… why are you here?”

“To help, of course,” the being said, and though it was difficult to read emotions on this thing’s face- the mist it was made of couldn’t seem to settle enough for that- it was easy to read just how affronted it was from its tone and body language.

“Of course,” I echoed flatly. I figured that would be better than snarking at this thing in my weakened state. It got my point across at least.

The being gave a heavy sigh, like the ones Artemis always heaved right after I finished reciting a haiku. “You must have noticed how weak you are. You are intelligent, are you not? You cannot simply believe someone will come looking for you now.”

“What are you talking about? What’s your point?” I snapped back, getting frustrated with the non-answers.

“Alas, you will figure it out, of this I am certain. But you must understand and accept this: no one is coming to help you.”

“Why wouldn’t they? I just defeated Python, even if none of the others are looking, Artemis certainly will be! And I’m sure my mother is worried as well.”

The being shook their head in a way I could only fathom to describe as… fond? “Soon you will understand. I believe I attempted contact too soon. Before you leave, however, I can plant a seed of progress in your mind. Child, do you know… where does ambrosia and nectar come from in the first place?”

That was when I woke up.

Chapter Text

I stared up at the ceiling, unable to find the strength to even emote. All I could think was, really? Part of me wanted to scream or cry in frustration, but to be honest, I had to respect the audacity. The audacity to proclaim something with such importance that it seems like a revelation, while simultaneously revealing nothing at all, that took talent. I should know, I would do that to demigods all the time. 

I had much to ponder. Who was that? What motivation would they have for helping me? Why would no one be looking for me? And truly, where did the food of the gods come from? These questions whirled through my brain so fast I couldn’t seem to focus on any, like trying to watch one point out a car window when zooming down a highway.

The food of the gods… I’d never thought about it before. It was always just- there. Never scarce nor expensive. There was always a surplus, with half the storefronts on Olympus selling some kind of ambrosia product. It was part of the reason gods liked human food, anyway. Don’t get me wrong, ambrosia is amazing. It tastes like smelling colors, y’know? But even a substance as glorious as that can becoming boring if it’s the only thing you eat. Though human food pales so considerably in comparison that it should be washed with bright whites, it’s still good. And new. And refreshing.

But why does it matter where the god’s food comes from? Why is that important? How is that supposed to help me, if I take this deity at face value, assume they’re telling the truth, and accept that no one will find me? I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something obvious that I should be thinking about. Something of concern… Vitally important…

But then my stomach growled, and I decided it would be much better to ponder all these thoughts with food in my stomach. Fuel the neurons, y’know? Not that I had neurons, but, bah, you get the point.

That was when it registered with me that I was laying on the bed I’d first woken up in. Didn’t I fall asleep on the couch? How did I get here? Remembering my savior, though, I couldn’t help but assume she must have carried me to bed. I teared up, thinking about it. Her kindness was truly touching. I righted myself, ready to go thank her. But before I could even stand, my vision went dark and I felt light headed. I stilled, breathing deeply and blinking rapidly in an attempt to dispell this fainting spell. Eventually, my vision returned, and I breathed a relieved sigh. 

I really must find ambrosia.

About to stand up, I stopped, questioning my own line of thinking. Or any food, right? I just need food. Again, I had that terrible feeling that I was stumbling through darkness and all I needed was a lantern to see exactly where I needed to go. But I just couldn’t seem to light that lantern.

Ugh, forget the metaphor! I was forgetting something, I knew I was forgetting something, and I needed to remember it and I knew I needed to remember it but I couldn’t remember it!

There, that’s more clear.

I knew it was something important, too. I could tell- feel it in my bones the way your grandpa feels a storm in his left knee.

I sat there for a good while, thinking intensely. I rather hope the deity was right that no one was looking for me because I suspect I was making some constipated faces while trying to scour my brain. A sharp knock on the door interrupted my thoughts, and I snapped my head up, the train in my head screeching to a halt. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Lester! I just wanted to let you know that I’ve made some omlettes, if you want any!” Lija’s voice carried through the door, muffled by the wood.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a minute!” I called back to her, before swiftly changing my clothes to new fresh ones that had been left out on the desk (how does this woman think of everything?). Once I’d achieved a relative level of cleanliness, I made my way cautiously to the kitchen, trying not to move too quickly and bring the faintness back. 

There, I found Lija plating two omlettes that smelled practically divine (and I would know). She looked up at me, the crow’s feet around her eyes crinkling with her smile. “Your hair looks lovely today.”

Immediately recognising the cheeky tone (spend one year with the god of mischief as your brother, and you’ll have an innate sense for it too), I self consciously, patted my hair, finding it curled wildly, giving me an extra inch, most likely. I nervously patted it down, realising for the first time I woke up that I had Lester-style hair, and finding myself not bothered much by it. I would want more length, but I found myself not missing the blond as much as I’d thought I would. Lester had grown on me, I suppose.

Lija laughed. “I’m sorry, don’t worry about it, I just thought it was funny. Besides, you can see I’m not at my most put-together right now,” she gestured at her outfit, which was composed of what were certainly painter’s pants, if Miss Rachel Dare had taught me anything, and a casual shirt. Her hair, in turn was hastily put into a messy bun, assumingly only done for the necessity while cooking.

I gave a small smile in return, and accepted the plate with omlette from her gratefully. “Thank you,” I said.

“Don’t mention it hon. You gotta get more sustenance in you anyway,” Lija responded, setting her plate down at the table.

I froze halfway through a bite of my omelette. For whatever reason, it was that sentence that triggered it for me. That one little thing led to the revelation I’d been struggling to achieve all morning. As if Lija had haunted it down and presented it before me as easily as she’d presented the omelette. 

Human food. Ambrosia. Gods can’t sustain themselves on human food. It doesn’t fuel them. It takes energy to digest human food, rather than giving energy. The omelette I’d been enjoying suddenly felt like dirt in my mouth.

Eating Lija’s cooking, as delicious as it was, wouldn’t allow me to regain energy. All it would do is drain my already-low fuel reserves.

How could I have forgotten that?

Noticing Lija’s look as she picked up on my sudden mood change, I swallowed the bite I’d had in my mouth, giving her a strained smile, before focusing on the omelette. I didn’t want her to be suspicious of me ( or worry ) so I would have to eat some of the omelette. But I’d have to solve this problem, and fast. If no one was coming looking for me, then I had to find a source of ambrosia and quickly, before I had no energy to-

Find a source. The deity’s voice came back to me, feeling mocking in retrospect. Where does ambrosia and nectar come from? 

It’s trying to guide me to what I need to do to recover.

But who are they? And why do they care about my well-being?

A sharp sound pulled my out of my musing, and I looked up, hoping to identify it. I didn’t need to, as it turned out, since Lija got up, heading to the door and returning with envelopes. Ah, the sweet sound of mail coming through the mail slot. As Lija shuffled through her mail, I pushed the plate with half the omelette left on it away from me.

Lija looked up at the sound. “Are you full, dear?”

“Yeah, sorry, it was really good, I’m just not hungry,” I said, unable to meet her eyes. I was hungry. I was starving, quite frankly, and not necessarily in the metaphorical way. But this mortal woman wouldn’t be able to help me with that anyway.

“Okay.” Lija seemed to pick up on my… incomplete truth, but accepted it anyway. I felt another wave of gratitude for her in that moment. She set the mail down on the table and moved to put our plates away.

I leaned on the table, trying to let the revelation I’d just had sink in. Unfortunately, it seemed the Fates refused to give me a damn break (those ladies needed a new hobby). It seemed the impending doom of my potential starvation was not the only revelation I was blessed with within two hours of being awake this morning, as that was when the date on today’s newspaper caught my eye.

…That can’t be right.