Chapter Text
“A masquerade royal ball?” Annabeth repeated, eyes wide with delight. “That sounds great, Percy!”
Percy grinned, tail swishing around. “Yeah. Rhode keeps saying it’s for some diplomacy but I don’t really care.”
“Percy!” She chided gently. “You should! You’re a prince!”
“The youngest one,” he argued. “I have like, Triton, Rhode, Kym, Proteus, Benny and a thousand demigod siblings before me. Even Herophile and Sciron and Chrysaor if you want to count them,” he added with wonder in the first and dismissal in the other two names.
“I suppose that’s fair,” she laughed. “Well, there’s nothing that exciting happening around here. It’s good I’m heading to dad’s in a couple weeks because living in a city, there’s never a peaceful moment.”
Percy nodded in fake knowledge. He barely remembered living in New York with his mother. He’d only been four when he and Mom had moved to Atlantis. But if Annabeth said something, he trusted her, and besides. He didn’t want to ruin the few in-person conversations he got with his best surface friend over something like this. “Well, you’re invited of course, and it’ll be fun to see if we can find one another when with masks but—" He stopped. “Wise Girl. Do you have the Romans over here?”
He’d only just spotted the SPQR flag nearby.
Annabeth looked guilty. “Maybe. Yes. I’m sorry!” She cried, when Percy recoiled violently. “But you never come around when I say they’re here, and I didn’t want to miss this visit! And I promise, I made sure this area is completely clear. Mrs. O’Leary’s on watch duty. She’ll never allow Jason through.”
Percy nodded, slightly mollified. Mrs. O’Leary was the fiercest creature he’d ever met, which was really saying something as a mer-prince. “Still. I don’t want to linger if those non-believers are around here. Especially Grace. I’ll see you at the Ball, and we can IM later, right?”
“Percy. . .” Annabeth sighed. “Of course we can.”
Percy nodded again, ignoring the disappointment in her tone. He’d feel guilty otherwise. “Bye, Wise Girl!”
“Bye, Seaweed Brain!” Came the call as Percy dove into the depths of the Camp Half-Blood Lake, channeling the portal back to the palace.
“Hi, little brother,” Benthesikyme swam up to him. “How is Annabeth? Did you have fun in your visit?”
Percy grinned. “Course, Benny. When do I not? But I couldn’t stay long,” he sulked, sending out a wave with a swish of his tail. “The Romans were there.”
“Percy. . .” Benthesikyme said exasperatedly. “You have to make peace with Jason Grace and the others. The Greeks and Romans are now united! You can’t carry this grudge forever.”
“I can try!” He sang, swimming towards the palace hurriedly. His older sister was always doting, but she also gave lectures which made everyone but Rhode want to die in a ditch. He wasn’t in the mood for that.
The Romans had disrespected his father and the sea for centuries. Why should he get along with them? Especially with Jason bloody Grace, Golden Freaking Boy, their leader, who acted like he was Olympus’ gift to humanity?
Percy’s mental rant against Jason Grace and his Roman comrades continued until he reached the room of the head cook and his ‘nanny’ when he was younger. Making sure nobody was around, he called out delightedly. “Mom!”
Sally Jackson put her book down, beaming upon her son. “Percy!” She laughed as he wrapped her in a bear hug, his tail around hers. “Oh, my baby.” She stroked his hair. He nestled against her contentedly.
To the public, his mother was Amphitrite. The fact that he was a half-blood was a secret guarded with lives until the fulfillment of the Great Prophecy, after which it had leaked and become something which everyone knew but nobody talked about. Someone seeing him call Mom his mom would have a field day. It’d probably be on Hephaestus TV, and he had no wish for that.
“How was the surface?” She asked wistfully. He knew his mom had only agreed to come to Atlantis for him. She much preferred life on the surface. Percy didn’t understand that, but he was sorry for his mom not being able to live where she’d like best.
“It was fun!” He said cheerfully. Then he scowled. “Except I had to cut it short because Jason Grace was there.”
And all the Romans, but nobody cared about them.
“You didn’t have to,” Mom said amusedly. “You’re just very touchy about that boy. What exactly did he do to you?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, not wanting to get into it. “Did Lorie ever get their dramatic showdown with their boyfriend?”
As they gossiped and sipped on hot chocolate, Percy’s royally enhanced ears pricked up at the sound of swishing. Someone was coming. And judging by the dulcet tones the man was yelling in, he could wager a very good guess on who that was.
“Perseus!” Triton glowered at him. He calmed for a moment. “Hello, Sally.”
“Hello, dear.” Mom smiled. “Did you want Percy?”
“Mom!” He called, betrayed. She just laughed and swam out of the room. So very helpful. “Hello, brother dear.”
“Don’t ‘hello’ me! You should’ve been down in the banquet hall ten minutes ago! Your coronation was only days ago. You need to be more—”
“Careful, considerate, royal, I’m aware, Triton,” Percy sang. He flicked some bubbles into his brother’s face.
Triton rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Just come along, then. And do try to be those things sometime.”
Percy spent the next hour in a mind numbingly boring discussion for the first royal ball post his coronation.
The masquerade part had been his idea. He thought it sounded fun, and much more to his liking than the stuffy parties he’d been attending all his life. He could run as wild as he liked and nobody would know that it was His Royal Highness Prince Perseus of Atlantis and the Seas of Old.
Still. Planning a royal ball like that was way beyond his capabilities. He was the planner only in name: Rhode was doing most of it, and she swatted gently at him to get his attention.
“Sorry, sis,” he grinned up at her, and she softened, running her fingers through his hair.
“You need to know this, Percy,” she chided softly. “You can’t be anonymous at the ball.”
Percy’s jaw dropped. “What? But that’s the point of—”
“I know,” she said. “But you’re the prince. It’s the first royal ball since your coronation. You can wear a mask, but you need to wear a crown over it.”
“That’s not fair,” Percy’s voice trembled with anger.
“I know,” Rhode smiled sadly. “I’m sorry.”
Ignoring protests from other people, Percy shot up and ran out of the room, squeezing into himself and sitting in an alcove. His eyes stung as he stared at his knees.
He loved his family. He loved being a prince. But the scrutiny and the constant kowtowing and not knowing if someone liked him for his family. . . .
It was the price he paid for the safety of having a godly family as a demigod. But it still deeply hurt to know that his once-in-a-life anonymity (that was from his own idea no less) was being snatched away.
He didn’t know how long he’d been lying there before he heard his mother’s voice. “Percy?”
He sat up. “Mother?” Amphitrite stepped through the curtains, peering down at him curiously. “I’m sorry for running away from the committee.” he muttered.
“No need for apologies,” Mother smiled softly at him. “I can understand the impulse.”
He looked up at her through his lashes. His mother was always so very proper – so graceful and insisting on etiquette. “Can you?”
“Your siblings are used to being royals,” she said. “But you remember a time when you were an ordinary boy, without all the pains that come along with the title.”
Percy hadn’t realized his time up in the mortal world had contributed to his desire for privacy and anonymity, but it made sense.
“I too wasn’t born royal,” Mother continued. “When your father proposed and I accepted, becoming queen was a difficult time. There were. . . complications.” She was quiet for a moment, and Percy reached out and took her hand. She stroked his cheek. “You’re a good boy, Percy. Try not to dwell on the worse parts of being a prince. Don’t let the news sadden you too much. This is your royal ball. It doesn’t matter if you’re anonymous or not, you can do what you wish.” She looked stern suddenly. “As long as everything is in one piece at the end.”
Percy grinned at that. “Love you, Mother.”
She laughed. “Love you too.”
The ball dawned quickly. Percy looked in the mirror as his two servants chatted at him and with each other as they fussed around. He was wearing a blue circlet on top of his silver mask, indicating he was the prince. He wanted to rip it off his head, but he took a deep breath and then smiled.
“You look amazing, Percy,” Mitch said, breaking off their staring contest with Layra to smile at him.
“Thanks, Mitch,” Percy said. He fiddled with the golden sea shell brooch holding his cloak. This was going to be the biggest ball in years, Triton had told him during one of his lectures.
Kym was going to be there, and she never came to the palace. Demigods from both camps would be there. Most of the gods would be there too, except for the ones who never left their realms. All the people of Atlantis and the other seven seas would come to see the newly claimed Prince of the Oceans.
The other reason Percy had wished for anonymity. The expectations from the first half-blood claimed as a prince by his godly parent felt choking.
“Your Highness?” His personal guard bowed. Another reason Percy had tried to give for why he shouldn’t have to wear the circlet – he wouldn’t need guards if nobody knew he was the prince. Rhode had shot him down so fast his head had spun. “Lord Tyson and Annabeth Chase to see you.”
Percy whirled around. His one-eyed little brother beamed as he rushed into him with all the delicacy of a hammer. “Hey, Ty,” he choked out.
He met Annabeth’s laughing grey eyes over his shoulder. “Looking good, Jackson,” his best friend smiled.
“You too, Chase,” Annabeth looked gorgeous in a scarlet gown. Percy dropped her a mock salute. “All set to seduce the Praetor?”
“Ugh, you’re the worst,” Annabeth complained as she did whenever Percy brought up her huge crush on Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano. He didn’t like or understand the fact that she liked a Roman, but he would always support her no matter what, so it didn’t really matter. “I’m so excited. Your palace gets more and more amazing every time I see it. The last renovations—”
“You should talk to Rhode about them,” he interrupted. “She can introduce you to the architect who planned that.”
“They’ll be here?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Everybody will be here,” he grumbled, raising a hand to ruffle his hair and then remembering that his hair stylist would murder him if he messed it up before lowering it.
“Hey,” Annabeth said gently, taking his hand. “You’ll be fine.” Her voice turned mocking. “Even if you still can’t behave yourself around Romans.”
He smiled softly at her in thanks. “I know.”
“Big brother will always be fine!” Tyson grinned.
“Thanks, Tyson.” Percy laughed. “Ready to go?”
“Ready,” both his friends chorused. “Try to be nice to Jason?” Annabeth asked.
He shook his head stubbornly, pursing his lips.
“For me? Please?”
He sighed. “I won’t even know which one he is,” he conceded.
“True,” Annabeth smirked. “But I don’t doubt the two of your ability to wreak havoc with your fights. I’m sure you could find a way to do so without even knowing which mask Jason’s behind.”
Percy stuck his tongue out at her. She laughed.
“My son,” Dad’s voice boomed proudly. “All ready for his first royal ball as a claimed Prince! How marvellous!” He wrapped his arm around Percy’s shoulder, and he leaned into it.
“You remember what you have to do? What you have to say?” Benny fussed. “Oh, Percy, your brooch is lopsided—”
“He’d better remember,” Triton muttered darkly, glaring at Kym. The two of them argued a lot.
“My dearest little brother!” She trilled, coming over and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How’s it going, destroyer?”
“Good,” Percy grinned. He minded the fact that his name meant ravager very much unless it was Kym who joked about it. “And you wave walker?”
“The two of you disgust me,” Triton snorted.
Tyson was chatting eagerly with Mom, Benny and Proteus on the other side of the room. Mom smiled at him and made the quick ‘I love you’ gesture in ASL. He did it back, holding it to his heart.
“Ready?” Mother asked quietly, coming up behind him.
He took a deep breath. “Ready.”
The speech had been hard. He’d been at his most charming, trying to channel Triton, Rhode, Kym, Benny, Proteus, Mom, Mother and Dad all at once. Triton’s verbosity, Rhode’s calm, Benny’s gentleness, Mom’s affection, Proteus’ authority, Mother’s sternness, and Dad’s darkly dangerous humour made for a good combination, because people roared when he was done.
But he was sure mingling was harder, he thought grimly as the last of the line faded away.
“Well done,” Dad squeezed his shoulder. “Now go ahead and enjoy yourself.”
Feeling this burden lift from his shoulders, he grinned at his parents and started walking through the ballroom, stopping to say hi to Annabeth and tease her about Reyna, get a hug from Tyson, congratulatory pats from his other siblings, and grab a few cupcakes.
“That was a nice speech,” someone said quietly from behind, and he whirled around.
The person had startling blue eyes that made Percy’s heart go thump. Everything else was covered by his mask.
“Thank you,” he said dryly. “But they would disagree with you,” he nodded his head towards some of the people he’d heard criticizing his speech. Olympus gods. They were so arrogant. “Besides, I have an excellent speech writer.”
He’d written it himself, with some help from Annabeth and his siblings.
“Who?” The man’s voice sounded cautious.
Percy grinned cockily. “Myself.”
There was a muffled laugh that again made his heart skip a beat.
“That was smug, even for you,” he said, sounding amused.
Percy cocked his head to the side. “Do we. . . Know each other?”
“You. . . Don’t recognize me?” The other man sounded taken aback, almost. . . sad.
“No. Should I?” He asked, frowning.
“Probably not. Don’t worry about it,” the other man seemed fine now, with an undercurrent of amusement.
“Who are you?” Percy persisted.
“Isn’t it against the spirit of this to reveal your identity before the official reveal?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.
Percy pouted. “But I want to know!”
“Sorry, Your Highness, you can’t get everything you want.” There was an edge to the statement that made him blink.
He decided to turn it to his advantage. “Apparently not,” he purred, stepping closer to the blue-eyed hottie. “Or you would be without the mask.” He paused. “Or better yet, without any clothes at all in my bedroom.”
There was a smothered gasp, and the man just stared at him. His eyes are really pretty, Percy thought. And familiar, too.
“Too much?”
He cleared his throat. “Just a bit.” But he didn’t move away from him or even say anything more. He just cleared his throat again.
It was. . . Nice to know he’d flustered him.
“I need something to call you,” Percy decided.
“Huh?”
Percy wondered if he’d somehow gone stupid in the past few seconds. “I need something to call you if I can’t use your name.”
“Hmm. . .” The man hummed playfully. “I’d be careful with what you pick. I’m fairly important around here.”
Percy laughed, tapping his circlet. “Yeah? So am I.”
“Bet I’m more important than you.”
“Yeah, right. Dream on, Goldie.”
Goldie choked. “Goldie?”
“Yeah. Goldilocks.” Percy said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re human,” he gestured at his legs, where there should have been a tail if he was a mer or god. “Shouldn’t you know the story?”
“I do,” Goldie huffed a laugh. “First of all, that sounds like a girl’s name.”
“Problem with that?”
“Not really. Just pointing it out. I identify as male.”
Percy nodded, glad he’d been right with thinking of Goldie as a ‘he’. “Good to know.”
“Secondly, how did you know my hair colour?”
He grinned. “I didn’t. I used Goldie because of your costume.”
Goldie looked down at his golden gladiator-gryffin costume. “Yeah, fair. Guess that was a stupid question.”
“And you gave me another clue!” Percy said cheerfully. “Your gender and your hair colour! I’ll figure out who you are in no time.”
“Yeah, out of the thousands of people that are here?” Goldie asked sardonically. “I don’t think so.”
“Is that a challenge?” Percy whispered, cocking an eyebrow confidently.
The other man’s eyes glittered as he stepped closer. “Maybe.”
“Alright,” Percy smirked up at him. “Keep me company till the end of the night, and I’ll figure out who you are.”
“We’ll see about that,” Goldie laughed. “I’m not giving up any more information.”
“Oh, you don’t have to. I’ll get it out of you.”
“You will, huh?” Goldie leaned in close. “We’ll see about that.”
“I guess we will.”
Goldie stole a cupcake off the platter he’d been carrying. “These cupcakes are really good.”
“They are!” Percy grinned. “But I prefer them with vanilla—”
“And chocolate icing,” Goldie finished. “Preferably blue. I know.” Percy stared at him, and he shuffled with discomfort. This was clearly someone he knew well. Then why didn’t he recognize him? “What did you mean when you said some people didn’t like your speech?”
Percy tipped his head towards the people mingling about his mother, father and siblings. As the youngest prince and the star of the night, he was given much more freedom than they were. He was definitely not looking forward to when he’d have to stay and talk and make diplomacy the whole time without having any fun.
“I heard them saying that my speech was. . . Ah, what was it? A mockery of an imitation of actually food speeches made by full-blooded mermen and actual royals.” Percy had never thought he’d regret his actual heritage becoming more or less an open secret, but this had brought that close.
Goldie scowled and swore under his breath. His eyes literally glowed with anger. He stared in fascination. He must be a really powerful demigod. “Assholes. Don’t listen to them. You’re ten thousand times the person they are.”
Someone who hated bullying and prejudice as much as he did. Something cold wrapped itself around Percy, giving him the kind of nerves he’d had around Bjia back in the day. He had a crush. On a land-dwelling demigod. With blond hair, a scar on his lip, a hatred for bigotry and blue eyes to die for.
He had no idea why that description sounded so familiar. Percy chased at it in his mind, hoping for a clue to Goldie’s identity, but his head was in a daze.
“Yeah. Um. I know.” He sounded way too shy for his liking. “Whatever comes out of their mouths is utter shite.” Percy knew it wasn’t as simple as that. People he didn’t like had given good counsel to his father all the time.
But Goldie’s eyes softened like he knew what he was doing. “Yeah. Look at them now. What are they even saying?”
“Something like ‘These seashells need to be pruned immediately before I wilt! I’m three-hundred years old already, I’m on my deathbed!” Percy joked. People told him his sense of humour was morbid all the time, but Goldie just laughed and responded in kind.
As they imitated their voices saying stupid and snarky comments, a warm feeling spread through Percy. He was enjoying himself for once at the stupid royal balls. His gaze caught something, and even more delight spread its way through him. “Annabeth’s talking to Annelies! This is great!”
“Who is that?” Goldie asked curiously.
“The architect who headed the renovations to the south wing,” Percy explained, craning his neck to continue seeing their very excited discussion.
“That’s amazing!” He had to blink in surprise at Goldie’s enthusiasm. “She was practically chomping at the bit about those. She keeps ranting about how ingenious it is to blend the Gothic—”
“Architecture with the original,” Percy finished quietly. He thought of the affection for Annabeth, his best friend, that bled through Goldie’s voice, and how he had been able to finish his sentence. He swallowed and stood up.
“Where are you going?” The other man asked, lips parting in shock.
“Outside,” he said, and stormed. Others called greetings he tried to respectfully return, but he gritted his teeth when he noticed Goldie following him. “What are you doing here?”
From the tone of his voice, he was raising an eyebrow: “Calm down, there. I did promise to be by your side all night so that you could figure out who I am.” His voice turned cocky. “How’s that going, by the way?”
Percy’s annoyance at his ridiculous feelings was overtaken by the annoyance. “I’ll have you know I’m close to the answer.”
“Are you?”
“Yeah. Super close. This close.” He held his pinched together fingers up for effect.
“If you say so,” Goldie sounded like he was stifling laughter. “Why did you leave? And where are we—woah,” he breathed suddenly. They’d gotten to one of the private alcoves – this one with a window. “Wow. This is gorgeous.”
Percy was used to the beautiful sights of the sea, even more than to those of the mortal world. But seeing Goldie’s reaction, suddenly the beauty caused a surge of admiration in him too. “It is.”
They stood there, peacefully silent for a while. “It’s. . .” Goldie cleared his throat. “Sometimes. The way people look at me. I feel like I’m not. . . not real. All these. . . Expectations.” He said it like a curse word. “So seeing something like this. . . Is liberating. Thank you for showing it to me.”
Percy hadn’t realized he was holding his breath. He let it out slowly.
He hadn’t known it was possible for someone else to put into words something you felt all the time. “No,” he said, voice wondering. “Thank you.”
He turned to look at him inquiringly. Percy tugged at his seashell brooch. “I’m the prince.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. “And not just that. I’m the half-blood prince. The demigod bastard. So many people make assumptions about me based on that. How I escaped the prophecy. I’m not a real demigod, but I’m not a real sea royal or god either. And people are just. . . Looking at me all the time. And I have to. . . To save the world and be a good prince and not let all the constant scrutiny. . .” His throat closed up and he blinked back tears.
This reminded him of his one confrontation with Kronos during the Second Titanomachy. But then. Emotional vulnerability could be every bit as dangerous and hard as physical difficulty.
Goldie grabbed his arm gently, steadying him. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes were sincere.
The next moment, Percy had grabbed his arms and kissed him.
The world tilted. Goldie was unmoving for a second before he gasped and kissed back. It felt like the space of a moment, it felt like several centuries. It was a storm and it was peace, all at once.
It undid him.
“Percy—” The man’s voice was guttural.
“That’s me,” he whispered, and the intensity died down when they both laughed.
“I don’t—” he stammered. “You shouldn’t—”
Percy frowned, fear filling him. He had no idea why he’d acted so impulsively. It’d always been a fault of his, something Triton condemned, Kym encouraged, Tyson followed and Rhode, Benny and Proteus tried to gently dissuade.
“Let’s go back to the hall,” he said, pulling aside the curtains and stalking purposefully. He didn’t want to hear that it had been a mistake.
He knew perfectly well it was. He didn’t even know Goldie’s name – and gods, that was a ridiculous nickname.
“Percy, wait, I have to—” He heard Goldie stammer as they entered the ballroom. The man came and took his arm.
Percy barely resisted the urge to tear it off and go sob in peace somewhere.
“Percy!” Someone called, and he turned, grateful for the distraction.
It was Annabeth. Her beautiful silver owl’s mask did nothing to obscure her identity or the fact that she was practically glowing after her conversation with Annelies. “Hey, Wise Girl.”
He felt Goldie stiffen and remembered: he knew her too.
“It’s identity reveal time!” His best friend beamed. Then she glanced at Goldie and did a double take. “Wait, why are you with—”
“Mers, gods, and demigods!” Dad’s voice boomed across the hall. “We’re glad and honoured you could join us for the royal ball after the coronation of Prince Perseus!”
Applause filled the hall, and Percy, despite wanting to duck his head, smiled and waved.
“The masquerade has been fun,” Mother continued seamlessly. “But now – it’s the time for revelations.”
“It’s midnight!” Dad smiled. “Refreshments shall continue on till morning, but this marks the official end to the ball. Happy unmasking, and good night!”
Cheering ensued, and the lights suddenly dimmed and then brightened in different, more eerie colours. Masks slowly began disappearing off people’s face, and Percy shuddered when his went with a zing.
“Percy—” Goldie was talking again, an edge of desperation to his tone, and he turned, puzzled, only to stand still.
Jason Grace stood there, fluffy blond hair, golden glasses, scar on his lip, legs for miles, and deep ice blue eyes. He had a look of misery on his face.
Jason bloody Grace. The Roman Praetor. Golden fucking Boy who just kept ruining Percy’s life over and over.
“Percy—” he started again.
This time he interrupted, voice cold. “It’s Your Highness to you.”
Grace’s eyes flashed, and for a moment, Percy thought they would revert to old habits: sniping at each other and hating. But it faded quickly. “Your Highness. Let me explain—”
“There’s nothing to explain,” Percy said coolly, falling back on the royal façade. “Annabeth. Reyna. Jason. I must retire. I will see you later.”
Not even seeing Annabeth arm-in-arm with Reyna was enough to pierce the numb heartbreak he was feeling. He turned and walked to his family.
“Percy?” Triton asked, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
He blinked, and the glitter from his makeup stuck to his eyelids with the glimmer of tears. He thought of piercing blue eyes and the morbid jokes and the soft confessions.
“I need some rest.” He said. “Just a bad day.”