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Estelle was 1 when Percy started reading her bedtime stories. He started with the classics—Goodnight Moon, Frog and Toad, The Little Prince. Whenever he and Annabeth would stop at a local bookstore, he would browse the children's section, looking for the perfect book to read her when he came home for the weekend. The little shelf next to Stella's crib was soon bursting with colorful bindings. Percy read to her until he practically had the books memorized, until the pages were well-worn and the covers well-loved.
Over time, though, she grew tired of them; she wanted something new, something exciting. So Percy began to tell her a different story. As he spoke, Stella could feel the shift in his voice. It sounded softer, faraway. There was an emotion there she wouldn't understand for a long time. Curled up in Percy's lap as he rocked them gently in the bedside armchair, Stella listened to him weave elaborate tales of gods and heroes, stolen bolts, and monster infested seas.
The most popular character in Percy's stories was the daring and majestic Pegasus, Blackjack, who soared over cities and seas on wings as black as midnight. Stella loved hearing about his adventures and all the far off places he would visit.
"After flying all the way back from Crete, Blackjack was exhausted," Percy said, tucking the blankets around Stella's shoulders, "He knew only one thing would give him the energy to carry on. Do you know what it was?"
She shook her head sleepily.
"Donuts!"
Stella laughed, which quickly turned into a yawn. Percy smiled fondly at her, brushing her bangs away from her eyes.
"Alright, that’s enough for tonight," Percy leaned down and kissed her forehead, "Night, Starfish."
"Night."
Eyelids heavy, Stella drifted off to sleep, dreaming of flying horses and strawberry fields.
-
Estelle was 5 when she finally worked up the nerve to ask the question that had been gnawing at the back of her mind.
"Is it real?" she whispered during one of their nightly story times.
"What's that, Starfish?" He'd called her that for as long as she could remember. Starfish, my shining little star, light of my life he would say dramatically, tousling her hair as she giggled.
"The stories. The water people and monsters and cy… cy—" she tried to remember the word.
"Cyclops," Percy finished with a soft smile. He hesitated, just for a moment, before saying, "Yeah, they're real."
Her eyes widened. She had expected him to laugh, to tell her she had such a big imagination. But his expression was open and honest… and she trusted him. Even as a child, she knew the idea was outlandish, but he had never lied to her, and she didn’t think he would start now.
Ever since then, Estelle longed to be a demigod. As she fell asleep each night to Percy tucking her in and telling her story after story, she dreamed of a far-off place called Camp Half-Blood. It was a romantic idea, she thought, traveling to far off places and encountering nymphs, hippocampi, and other magical creatures. She would master sword-fighting, just like her brother, and of course Pegasus riding.
"Are you okay?" Percy asked, gently nudging her shoulder. She realized she must have gone quiet.
"Mm hmm," she said, leaning back into him, "Can you tell one more story?" He looped an arm around her and she closed her eyes, drifting off to the sound of his voice.
"It was a warm, summer day when Blackjack got a message from Chiron back at camp. There was a creature in the Aegean Sea who needed his help…"
-
Estelle was 7 when she saw her first monster and burst into tears.
They had rounded about five blocks, Percy all but tugging her along, before he finally stopped, ushering her into a narrow alley between two shops.
"Remember our bedtime stories?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her. His brows were furrowed, lips pulled tight, as if her fear was his own. "Sometimes the monsters make their way into our world."
Percy looked past her shoulder, expression pensive, "You… you saw it?"
She nodded, sniffling and wiping her eyes.
"What was that?" she asked through her still falling tears. As much as Percy wanted to say it was nothing, to protect her, he knew her safety was more important than comfort.
"It was a hellhound," he hugged her tight, protectively, "But it's gone now. You're okay. You're safe. I promise."
"Why wasn't everyone else running?"
"They couldn't see it. The mist made it look like something else, a regular dog probably."
The mist… The veil that separates the mortal world from the magical one. She remembered Percy bringing it up in their bedtime stories. It was the reason why the Battle of Manhattan would never be taught in history class, destined to be passed along through whispers and hushed voices until it becomes a thing of myth, of legend. But even though she knew her brother fought monsters, knowing something is true and seeing it come to life are two very different things. She realized far too late that although she had grown up on these stories, she never really understood them… until now. Once, she had been safely tucked under her purple quilt, picturing fights as one of those beautiful, glamorized scenes from Hollywood. But there was no glamor here. No beauty in the dusty remains of the creature clinging to her coat, the deep weariness etched on her brother's face.
Her mind kept replaying the last 10 minutes, though it felt more like 10 hours. The creature seemed to have come out of nowhere. One moment she was crossing the street, the next, it was there, looming over her. Its gleaming white teeth were far too close to her face, hot breath like a furnace. Then Percy was pushing her behind him, taking out the magical sword that had so enamored her when she was younger. The memory of them, sparring together in the park felt distant as she watched the creature lash out with a swipe of its great claws. It was over before she could react, and Percy was grabbing her hand, pulling her away from where it had stood, only seconds before.
Whatever barrier had shielded her since childhood from the reality of the immortal world shattered to glass that day. Monsters were no longer something from a bedtime story. They were all too real, and yet… standing there, wrapped in her brother's arms, she felt safe. She was safe, after all. Percy had been right by her side, just as he always said he would. Somehow, she knew no matter what beast might crawl up from the depths of Tartarus, Percy would do anything in his power to protect her. And if his power was called into question, well, from what she'd gathered from his stories of past battles, she had nothing to be afraid of.
-
Estelle was 12 when she got to ride Blackjack. It took her three full years of begging (and a not so gentle reminder that when he was her age, he had killed Medusa, so surely this was nothing) before Percy finally conceded. Stella imagined her euphoria at finally taking flight was akin to someone who finds themselves transported into a world they've only ever read about.
Blackjack was her favorite character growing up, after all; though, she supposed he wasn't really a character, was he? He was as real as anything, no matter how surreal the experience, because here she was, his mane tangled in her fingers, sunlight warming her shoulders, Percy's laugh partly carried off in the wind.
She desperately wished she could talk to Blackjack the way Percy could, but she contented herself with a translation. She felt unimaginable warmth in her chest when Percy told her that Blackjack called her "Little Boss." She stretched out her arms, feeling the summer breeze rippling over her. She was a demigod, setting off on a quest to save her city from certain peril. She was a bird, about to take flight. She was Icarus, basking in the intoxicating light of the sun–
"You better not fall off, or Mom will kill me!" Percy shouted over the roar of the traffic below them. Stella grinned at him, a mischievous thing that Sally blamed on her brother, and mimed losing her balance. Percy shot her a look that said not funny, hands already outstretched to steady her.
"Relax," she spoke with the easy confidence of a pre-teen who thought herself untouchable, "You defeated the Minotaur when you were 12; I think I can ride a horse."
"Yeah, and I immediately passed out afterwards and almost died." Percy responded with a frown.
Stella chose to ignore that last comment, but returned her hands to Blackjack's mane. She felt Percy relax behind her. Flying was more exhilarating than she could have ever imagined.
"So…?" Percy asked when they finally returned to solid ground, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
Stella threw her arms around Blackjack, who nuzzled her affectionately. Her eyes were bright; she was barely able to contain her energy.
"When can we fly again?"
-
Estelle was 13 when Percy stumbled into the apartment, bloodied and bruised.
She had been watching TV in the living room when she heard the sound of a key being turned in the lock. But something was off. It took far too long, the lock clicking and scraping awkwardly, as if the owner was fumbling with the key, struggling to fit it into the lock. Percy must have been leaning against the door for support because when it finally opened, he was knocked off balance and had to catch himself on the door frame.
Stella ran to him immediately, helping him sit at the kitchen table. He looked worse than she had ever seen him. Percy had encountered plenty of other monsters since the one she witnessed when she was 7, but he had always gotten away relatively unscathed, save for a few scratches. But this… she couldn't imagine what could have done this to him.
His bottom lip was split and his left cheek swollen red from a newly forming bruise. A cut on his forehead was still bleeding, dried blood smearing his face from where he tried to wipe it away. But the worst of it lay beneath his hands which clutched at his side, his shirt soaked in blood.
"What happened?" she asked, voice tight. She clenched her teeth, trying to choke down the sob that was building in her throat, the tremble of her hands as she searched for the ambrosia Percy kept in the apartment for emergencies.
"Ran into some trouble on the streets." he said, as if it were no big deal, but his face was lined with pain.
"What trouble?" Stella couldn't keep her voice from rising, couldn't believe he was trying to play this off as no big deal. As if there wasn't a growing pool of blood below him. She handed him the golden squares, watched him anxiously as he ate one, then two.
"Just some old friends," Percy responded and hissed in a breath as he tried to stand, "Hey Starfish, can you help me into the bathroom?"
Stella mulled over who these "old friends" could possibly be as she led him down the narrow hallway, his hand on her shoulder to steady himself. Maybe his past had finally caught up with him, monsters from his youth returning to seek vengeance. By the time they reached the door, he looked on the verge of passing out. She wanted to pry, batter him with more questions as he lowered himself into the bathtub, turned on the faucet.
"Thanks, Starfish," Percy murmured, expression already relaxing as the water worked to heal his wounds.
Stella's questions died in her throat. She would ask him later, when he was ready. She knew he just wanted to protect her, to shield her from the horrors he had been forced to accept at such a young age. It's too late for that, she wanted to tell him, I know now.
Stella had never really imagined her brother getting hurt, not seriously. He was a hero of Olympus, a survivor of two wars. But it was a childish notion, she realized. They weren't in some fairytale where the good guys always win and the bad guys always lose. Percy was a demigod, yes, but suddenly his human side seemed all too overwhelming. That day, she learned he wasn't as invincible as she thought.
-
Estelle was 15 when she walked into the kitchen at night and found Percy hunched over the table, head in his hands, shoulders shaking. She had wanted a glass of water, and usually kept one on her night stand, but she had forgotten that day. The sight of his tears scared her. She had never seen her big brother cry before.
Should I give him privacy? she thought, If I stay, what would I say?
As she pondered her options, frozen, Percy lifted his head to wipe his eyes and caught her standing by the open doorframe.
His eyes were red and puffy, and he ran a self-conscious hand through his hair.
"Sorry if I woke you," he whispered in a low voice, so as not to disturb their parents.
"No, I… I was just getting water. Are you okay?"
Stella cringed at the question. Of course he's not okay, she scolded herself, Don't be an idiot.
But Percy just smiled at her, though it looked strained, "I will be."
She carefully walked towards him and took a seat across from him. She waited for him to speak, not wanting to push him. In that moment, he seemed so fragile. Like if she pushed too far, he might break.
Looking at him now, she wondered how she had never noticed how tired he looked. For a second, she missed the rose-tinted glasses of her youth. But then she caught herself. This was her brother, the same person who read to her for hours and took her flying through the skies. This was her brother, and he needed her as much as she needed him. Staying willingly ignorant would only hurt them both.
Memories cut into her like a knife, so sharp she couldn't believe she hadn't seen it before. The faraway look Percy got sometimes, and the way it took a few seconds to register that someone was trying to speak to him. The change in posture when he thought no one was looking. The weariness that weighed on his shoulders and under his eyes. Once, she was awoken by the sound of his screams, and all she could do was hug him tight until he shakily returned her embrace. She was much younger then, and he had told her it was just a nightmare. She had thought nothing of it; she'd had nightmares too, and she imagined it must be similar.
"Wanna watch a movie?" she asked, finally breaking the silence. The hint of a real smile ghosted across his lips.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
They shuffled into the living room and settled onto the sofa, Stella leaning her head against his shoulder, Percy wrapping a blanket around them. He let her pick the movie, and she chose a silly rom-com that was trending on Netflix. They laughed at the poorly written script and pointed out its glaring plot holes, falling back into their old, comfortable banter. She was glad Percy seemed better, back to his old self, even. But she couldn't get the other image of him out of her mind, of that bone-tired look in his eyes.
Estelle had longed to be a demigod, but that night, she wondered if the myths were right. Maybe heroes are cursed.
-
Estelle was 19 when she started college. Before she left, the Jacksons took a family trip to Montauk for the week. She wanted to freeze time, stay like this forever, carefree and sun kissed. But not even the gods had such power. So instead, she savored every moment. The beach picnics, the sandcastle competitions, the sunsets over a sparkling sea.
It was their last day, and they spent it relaxing by the shore, Sally reading her book, Paul sunbathing beside her, Percy walking along the coast, the waves crashing against his legs. Stella took a Sprite from the cooler and popped the tab. She gazed out at the ocean, mesmerized by the waves.
Stella had never feared the water. She knew others who did—understood why they did. The ocean could be cold, unforgiving. It could sweep you away and steal the breath from your lungs without a moment of regret. But that was not the ocean she knew. For as long as she could remember, the water welcomed her as if she were a beloved friend. As a child, it cradled her in its currents, gently returning her to the coast in a blanket of sea foam when she drifted too far.
Her friends wondered at her fearlessness, asked her how she was never swept beneath its waves, even when she swam out farther than anyone else dared. But she always stayed silent. How could she explain the sea's loyalty? How could she explain the one who promised she would always be safe in its arms? She knew they would not believe her, so she simply smiled at them, the joy of a secret playing on her lips.
Stella buried the bottom half of the soda can in the sand under the shade of her chair and jogged over to Percy. He was sitting by the shore now, letting the waves wash over him. She followed suit, plucking seashells out of the water as the tide brought them in. They sat in comfortable silence for a while until Percy finally spoke.
"You nervous?"
"Yeah," Stella admitted, "But I think I'm excited too. I've never been to California before."
Percy grinned at her and said, "You're going to blow them away."
"Plus," he added, stealing a blue shell from her collection and inspecting it, "Camp Jupiter is there, so now we'll have two reasons to visit!"
"Do… do you get to see your friends there a lot? They're so far away…" As much as she tried, Stella couldn't keep the nervous edge out of her voice.
Percy's voice was soft as he kissed her head and said, "Yeah, we keep in touch. Actually, Hazel and Frank live pretty close to USC. They could probably take you sightseeing."
Stella's expression brightened, "Yeah! I was just reading about the 25 best places to visit in SoCal."
She started listing off some must-see attractions while Percy listened. That was something she had always appreciated about him; he always paid attention to her words, even brought them up in later conversations, no matter how far she strayed from the original topic at hand. She smiled when she remembered that Annabeth had once told her how good Percy was at making sense of her enthusiastic ramblings about architecture.
They talked until the sun set and Sally called them inside. Stella's nerves had dulled, anticipation buzzing in her chest as they walked together towards the summer cottage.
"Don't forget about me, Starfish," Percy joked, nudging her with his shoulder, "You better call me once in a while."
His voice was playful, but she saw the apprehension in his eyes. Stella stopped walking and hugged him tight, feeling like she was 7 years old again, clinging to her brother, knowing he would always protect her.
"Never."