Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Poseidon had a plan.

Though he had never had a child do so before, there were three general ways that a mortal being ascended to godhood. They were either gifted godhood, had their own divinity burn away their mortality, or built enough of a following of believers that they became a god. Only the first had the guarantee of success. The second was the most dangerous. The third made the strongest type of ascended gods.

The first had few flaws as long as the participant went willingly. Most who took this gift were only given it due to being lovers of gods. Ganymede and Ariadne both are examples of mortals who found their happiness with the gods.

The second had only one known success, Heracles. Even after all of his adventures, he had to kick start his ascension by laying on a funeral pyre himself. Foolish that it was, it worked. He spoke after how he had felt himself beginning to burn from the inside in the days prior to his act. From his tale, he unfortunately spawned copy cats. Too many heroes had felt a similar burning and thought they were worthy. Too many were proven incorrect.

The third style of ascension has only one true case of success, his nephew Dionysus. Though later many an emperor would try to follow in his footsteps, they missed a key point in his worship and his following. It was naturally caused. Dionysus did not tell them to follow him. He did as he wanted and, in his footsteps, followers grew like vines for his grapes. He truly forced no one to worship him in the beginning, though he did take offences for being slighted. When enough of a following was built, he smoothly transitioned into his even greater power.

As Poseidon’s heart broke a bit, he watched his son turn down a gift of godhood. Though proud of his courage and sheer loyalty to instead bind the gods to a promise of taking care of their children better and of pardoning the traitors, he could not say he wasn’t disappointed that his son had not taken the offer. Never before had Poseidon wanted more for a mortal son of his to ascend. But as he and his fellow Olympians swore their oaths, he noticed something.

His son had followers.

He saw the look in the eyes of his sons fellow half-bloods. Some might look and only see soldiers following their commander. Some might look and see only the eyes of younger children looking up to their metaphorical big brother. But Poseidon saw differently. He saw the eyes of followers. Followers willing to stand against insurmountable odds. Followers willing to resist the temptation of an easier life by giving up and stopping their belief. Followers whose only reason for staying and fighting and dying was in their belief. But not in Poseidon or any of his fellow gods. But in his son. In Percy.

Poseidon watched as his son made the rounds to his fellow campers. As Percy talked to them, Poseidon saw it again. Not in all of them, no of course not. Athena’s daughter looked at him with a lover’s eyes. But in more than half, he saw devotion and, dare he think it, worship. As Dionysus reconnected with his wife for the first time in a while, Poseidon had a thought. He decided that it would not do for his child to burn out; and since Percy had already rejected a gift of godhood, there was only one path forward.

Percy’s followers needed to grow and Poseidon would help it happen.

Chapter Text

Poseidon knew nothing about how to grow a following.

He had never given a thought on how to gain his own worshipers, let alone someone else’s. He was the lord of the seas. People knew they had to respect, fear and worship him lest they run afoul one of his moods or one of his curses. But he was lost when it came to actively and intentionally growing following.

When he realized this, a week later stewing in his chambers in Atlantis, he came to a horrifying conclusion. He would need help. Once his bad mood left him after it had soured from that revelation, the next question was who it would be. Who would help him on his own quest to turn his son into a god and how would he convince them?

The first choice was obvious, if not tricky. Who better to figure out how to build enough of a following in order to turn his son into a god than the only god to have done so before, Dionysus. After a few days given in thought on how to convince the wine god, Poseidon arranged a meeting between the two of them on a pier near some vineyard in California.

He sat calmly at a table on the pier and waited for his nephew to arrive. He felt the divinity and smelled grapes on the air before he even heard his nephew.

“Well uncle, it is not often I get a request for a meeting from you.” Dionysus drawled out as he slumped into the chair across from Poseidon, “I figured you would have still been celebrating or rebuilding Atlantis.”

Poseidon smiled in spite of the pain he felt at the reminder of how the war had left his kingdom. “Amphitrite and Triton are taking care of it for now. But they understand that this meeting needed to happen.”

They did understand. It took convincing them of his plan and pacifying their worries that Poseidon would not be replacing Triton as his heir. Though Percy was of the sea, they all knew that he belonged on land. He would not be happy being kept away from his fellow demigods and though he loved the ocean, Camp Half-blood was his heart.

“Well, good for them. Now what is it that you needed uncle? Father doesn’t like me to be away from the brats for too long and though my leash is loosened a bit, it is still there.” The younger god stated as he looked longingly at the field of grapes on the hill and took a sip of his diet coke. He looked like he was almost trying to fool himself into believing that it was wine.   

Poseidon had never been one to skirt around an issue so he figured that he would simply come out and say it bluntly.

“I wish to turn Percy Jackson into a god”

Dionysus actually choked and spluttered at his statement. Once he had regained control of himself, he glared at his uncle. “Warn me before you just drop a statement like that uncle. Besides, you were there uncle. The br-” stopping himself as he caught Poseidon’s look “the boy turned it down.”

Poseidon looked out to the sea and sighed.

“Yes. I remember. And although I wish he didn’t do so, I understand it is in his nature. He is too humble and loyal to ask for or accept something merely for himself when he could instead ask for something for those he holds dear. Too much like his mother I believe.”

The sea god caught his nephew rolling his eyes at this, the years having turned him into a cynic. Poseidon turned his gaze back to him. Dionysus stilled at the look in his eyes.

“I know my child will not accept nor ask to be given godhood. But I can not stand to see him burn alive from his own divinity. Fire is no way for a son of the sea to die.” Poseidon stated firmly.

“Then why even pursue this uncle? There is nothing to be done.” Dionysus stated exasperated.

Poseidon grinned at this. “Well, I had hoped he would follow your path.”

If there was ever a time the lord of horses wished that he had a camera, this would be one of those moments. The look on his nephew’s face was comical enough to be featured in even one of the muses' best plays. Poseidon gave him a second for the wine gods brain to reboot.

“Are you serious?” Dionysus finally stated, “You come to me for this? ME?”

“But of course!” Poseidon stated cheerfully, “You are the only one to ascend without being gifted or burning out. Who else would I turn to? I know nothing of how to build a following but you do. You are the perfect god to help me with this.”

“Did you forget my disdain for heroes uncle? Why in the name of the Fates would I help you turn your son into a god? What do I get out of it besides headaches?” the god of madness ranted at his clearly losing it uncle.

Poseidon leveled his nephew with a look of disappointment. “Come now Dionysus. We both know you don’t truly disdain heroes. You disdain disloyalty. You did not hate Theseus because he simply was a hero. You hated him because he made promises to your wife and then broke them by leaving her on that beach. One of the first things you did after fully ascending was to take your mother from my brother’s realm and raise her to godhood. Surely you feel a bit of kinship with Percy for having done something similar when he was but a boy. You stated yourself he was not like other heroes. For Chaos’s sake, his flaw is loyalty!”

Feeling he had sufficiently made his point, Poseidon pulled himself together,” As for what you would get, we both know that if he were to ascend one of his domains would have something to do with demigods. If he were to claim Camp half-blood as his territory, you could no longer be linked there. You could be freed from at least that half of your punishment.”

Poseidon watched as the other god seemed to mull it over before sighing.

“I am sorry uncle.” Dionysus stated seemingly genuine. “I can set you upon the right path but I can not join you in this endeavor. While I agree with some of your points, I can not agree with the action you seek.  It is not within me to do so.”

The Seas grew unsteady and the ground shook a little at this statement. Poseidon was upset. He felt his plan falling apart. But he quickly calmed himself.

“Very well nephew. I accept your answer. Please, will you give me whatever wisdom you can or are willing to share?” Poseidon asked looking for anyway forward.

The wine god nodded and spoke.

“The first thing you will need is to find him a priest or priestess, multiple if you can. They need to be someone fervent enough in their beliefs that they are willing to try and convince others and need to have enough charisma in them to sway others to join them in their beliefs. For me, it was easy. I found the loudest most charismatic drunk in a town. For your son, you will need to find some other distinguishing characteristic.”

Poseidon nodded and thanked him for his guidance. Dionysus stood and turned to leave. Before he fully left, he looked back over his shoulder.

“I will not tell father of this as I don’t think he would approve.” The wine god stated “And I am truly sorry I can not help with this. I wish you luck uncle.”

Poseidon looked back over at the sea as he felt his nephew’s divinity spike and smelled grapes again as the god of madness vanished. The lord of horses was saddened that he was not able to sway his fellow Olympian to his side. He felt another spike in divinity and looked up in hopes that his nephew had reconsidered. But he did not smell grapes and what he saw shocked him into silence.

Across from him sat not his nephew but his niece.

“Shall we discuss who should be Percy Jackson’s first priest, uncle? I have thoughts on several candidates.” Athena stated as if planning a battle.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t often Poseidon could claim to be surprised.

Before the younger generation of gods were born and while he and his siblings still fought to over through their father, he was their strategist and their oracle. The combination of foresight and good planning meant they were rarely in a bad position.

But to see Athena across from him and for her to seemingly be on board with his plan of turning his son into a god left him shocked. By the time he overcame his shock, she had laid out a folder onto the table.

“Why?” Poseidon asked. “Why would you wish to help me turn Percy into a god? Hermes. I could maybe see helping. Maybe he still feels there is a debt to be paid. But you? Why?”

She looked up from the folders she had placed down and stared him directly in the eyes as she answered.

“My reasoning is two parts. The first being that he would be a boon to Olympus. He is already so powerful if half of the stories my children have told me are to be believed. None of us on the council would have been willing to gift him godhood so simply if he wasn’t, no matter if he had ‘earned’ it.”

Poseidon nodded to acknowledge the point. It was a debate the Olympians had had before. Plenty of heroes had done great deeds in the past without the offer being extended. None of them, besides maybe Heracles, had had the power the other gods would demand for a non-lover to be given godhood. The lovers even were only gifted the lightest of divinity. Truly it was more immortality than godhood.

“And the second?” he pressed.

“I am sure you are aware of my daughter’s infatuation with him at this point.” She sighed “From my viewpoint, he becomes a god and their current relationship doesn’t stand the strain of the change or he becomes a god and raises her as his immortal wife. Either way, I win. In the first, I am proven right in my initial judgement that they are not correct together. In the latter, my own daughter becomes immortal and we have a chance to end this ages old feud.”

“You believe that Percy would choose a mortal to raise as his wife?” Poseidon asked almost in disbelief.

Athena smirked at that. “I believe that he would follow Dionysus’ example quite closely. His flaw is loyalty. I imagine that he would raise not only my daughter but his mother as well.”

Poseidon hadn’t thought of that. Although the sea lord had offered to build her a palace under the waves, he had not even thought to try and raise Sally Jackson. He couldn’t even think of what his wife and immortal son would have done if he had. In fact, the thought that Percy might do as such had his head pounding already from the nagging and arguments it would cause. But he knew she was right.

“You will swear,” he started “swear that this is not some trick. That you fully mean to help my son reach godhood in the fashion that Dionysus did. You will not push him to light a pyre. You will not push your daughter, your children, or anyone else to light my son ablaze to see if he ascends.”

She nodded “I swear upon the Styx that I will help you turn your son into a god without him burning alive.”

Thunder cracked as she spoke despite the clear sky.

“Very well.” Poseidon stated softly. “Who are these candidates that would be my sons priests and priestess?”

The goddess of wisdom picked up the file and handed it over to her uncle. He took it into his hands and opened it up. The lord of horses looked at the file and looked up flabbergasted.

“This is your son” He stated bluntly, confusion on his face.

“Yes.” She stated seemingly confused at his confusion. “His name is Malcom.”

“Why would you want your son to be a priest of Percy’s?” Poseidon questioned. “Better question. Would he even want to be a priest for Percy?”

   “All good priesthood’s need organization and logistics. Someone has to plan the temples and keep the rules. Malcolm is the perfect person for such a role.” She stated drawing on her experience with her own followers. “As for why he would want to, what do you know of Percy's actions in the battle of Manhattan? Did you follow the battle closely?”

Poseidon felt mild embarrassment as he admitted “Not much. With the War also on going in Atlantis, I was unable to truly find time to keep track of what happened on land and with the repairs going on I have not caught a blow by blow report.”

“That is understandable uncle, I was much the same due to our fighting of Typhon.” She placated. “But I had my children give me a battle report afterwards. Allow me to enlighten you on just how powerful your son truly is uncle. According to my children, he killed hundreds of monsters alone. He broke a bridge designed for thousands of pounds of material to cross it by channeling your earthquake power.  But perhaps most impressive, he summoned a localized hurricane over a lake to fight the Titan Hyperion to a standstill. Even if Hyperion is not the strongest of Titans, he is still a Titan.”

Yet again, Poseidon was shocked. He knew his son was powerful. The lord of horses would not have started this pursuit if he hadn’t thought so. But to hear his son could stand up to a Titan, even with the curse of Achilles, was impressive. Terrifyingly so.  

“When I heard my children speak of his deeds, I heard something in their voices uncle.” Athena stated softly “I heard worship. All of them had it in some levels. But Malcolm? After seeing your sons care for his sister and the ferocity with which he was willing to fight for all of them and understanding what he was willing to give up for them, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was already starting a cult of his own. I don’t take ventures I don’t think can succeed uncle. There is a reason I believe that this can be done.”  

Poseidon sat silent for a time. He was stunned and a little worried. He thought he had been the only one to see it in the eyes of the demigods. He thought all the other gods were blind to it or that maybe it was hope playing with his mind and making him see something that wasn’t actually there. Yet here it was. Confirmation that another Olympian saw it as well. One that could be as cold and logical as Athena could see it. How long could they keep his brother from seeing it? How long did they have before his brother found out.

From the sounds of his son’s power, how long before the roaring of flames called out to Percy with promises they could not keep?

“Very Well.” Poseidon finally broke the silence “Your son will be the first. From him, the worship of the son of the sea will spread. Now we need to inform him of his purpose.”

Chapter Text

Malcom had a new god but it was a secret.

He almost felt bad that he could not proclaim his worship from the top of the Big House. But the child of Athena was nothing if not logical. He knew that to proclaim his devotion as publicly and loudly as he wished to do so was to invite anger and wrath upon himself and his new god. That wasn’t something he was ready for nor was his god.

Hell, proclaiming his loyalty might even gain him the anger of his god himself. Percy had just turned down godhood and didn’t like it when people made a big deal out of him.

It was one of the traits that endeared him the most to his god, one of many. If given the chance Malcolm could go on for hours about Percy. Of course, Malcolm could speak to his humility but he would also speak on his loyalty, his self-sacrifice, his mercy and his forgiving nature. His loyalty to his mother, Annabeth and other fellow demigods. His self-sacrifice in willing to give up part of his humanity in order for them to even have a fighting chance in the war with the Titan’s army. His mercy and forgiveness to know when it was time to put down the blade and reach across to start building bridges again.

None of this even touches on the other aspect of the wielder of Riptide. None that touches on his ferocity, his strength, his skill with a blade, his wielding of his powers and his fierce protective nature. Malcolm saw it all in that park. To see first hand what his god could do and what Percy looked like when he was protecting those he cared for, those that he claimed as his, was awe inspiring.

Demigods don’t actually often find themselves religious as they interact with mythological beings often. But in that instance, Malcolm felt he knew what it must have felt like to live in ancient Greece and see an angry god. To see a god ride out for your protection. He had felt the need to drop to his knees then and there and pray to Percy. Pray to his new personal god of protection.

 Of course, they were still in battle so Malcolm did not do that. It wasn’t until after the battle that Malcolm did his first tiny prayer. He found a bit of blue candy and burned it. Everyone knew that Percy had a thing for blue foods. He burned that little bit of candy while still on Olympus and said a small prayer of thanks.

It was days later that Malcolm realized how dangerous that had been. Who knows what would have happened had anyone caught him. To say nothing if his mother found out he was praying to the son of her rival.  So now he prayed and worshipped in secret. He had taken some of the excess lumber around for the building of all the new cabins for the minor gods and he had built himself a shrine. He built it on the beach, as he felt that was appropriate, right near the border. He had heard once from his sister that Percy had met Hermes here some years ago and it was here that Percy had defied orders to go on the quest to save his friend Grover and the camp. So it felt right that this was where Malcolm would pray to his god of loyalty.

The shrine wasn’t something special. It was a small thing. Malcolm felt bad that it wasn’t larger. He felt his god’s temple should be as unimaginably large as the crater he had left behind in Mt. Saint Helens. But for now this would have to do. It was at least decorated. With an influx of new campers and many of them being young, Malcolm had taken to telling them stories of Percy’s deeds during arts and crafts. It had inspired many pieces of artwork. It had also left Percy blushing when teased about it from Annabeth. Malcolm’s god was very humble. Malcolm took the best pieces he could for the shrine.

It was here late in the evening, lit by candle light, a tiny sacrificial altar fire and a full moon, surrounded by imagery of his god that Malcolm was praying and burning blue cookies he had stolen from dinner that night. Head bowed and eyes closed, the worshipping child of Athena did not notice the figure walking up behind him.

“This was a good spot to choose.” A loud voice seemed to boom behind Malcolm.

Malcolm jumped and felt his blood turn to ice. Slowly, as if hoping that voice had been part of his imagination, he turned around. His face paled as he saw Poseidon standing there looking at his shrine. Malcolm knew he was going to get smote.

“Now just who were you burning these offerings to child?” the god spoke again. “I know they were not for me, nor do I think they were for your mother.”

Malcolm gulped. Oh yeah, he was definitely going to die here. The lord of the seas was not known for being kind to the children of Athena and to find one potentially stealing worship from him and giving it to his child? Malcolm would be lucky if he wasn’t turned into a flounder.

Malcolm knew he had a choice here. He could apologize and call this a mistake. Call it a flight of fancy and swear that he would not do it again. But that felt wrong. That felt like spitting in the face of his personal god. Malcolm had known this path was dangerous but he tread it anyways. He believed in Percy.  So mustering up what courage he had, helped by the thought of how Percy must have felt when he was about to enter the Styx for the rest of them, he spoke.

“I -I am praying to your son my lord.” He finally stammered out. “I am praying to Percy Jackson.”

The sea lord looked down at him “Percy is a mortal” the god stated.

“I know that my lord. But after seeing him fight and feeling his protective spirit, I can’t help but to worship him.” Malcolm spoke, his voice gaining an almost pleading nature in its desperation to explain. “He inspires me. He makes me want to train harder, work faster, to be better. I think of his struggles and mine become lessen. I pray to him and find humility in myself. I pray to him to strengthen my loyalty and find my friendships are stronger afterwards. Is that not what the gods do? Hear our prayers and answer?  Hear our struggles and calm our hearts? He may be mortal now but how could he not be anything but the next god simply waiting to ascend?”

There was silence after his outburst and Malcolm felt embarrassed. Here he was, a child of logic getting emotional. He waited for the wrath that was sure to come from the lord of horses. And then he heard a laugh. The sea god’s laugher started small but grew into something full bellied. Malcolm felt himself blush in more embarrassment and the indignancy. He had bore his soul to the god and was laughed at. When Poseidon finally calmed down, he looked down upon the child of Athena and smiled.

“Your mother was right about you.” The large god stated through a wide smile. “Here I come to give you permission for you to worship my son and to be his priest only to find you are already doing so. That you have already built him an altar and a shrine and that you have found your own reasons to pray to him. Yes! You will do well as his first priest!”

Malcolm would later swear that his brain broke at that statement. His active and intelligent brain could not comprehend what the immortal had just told him. He could barely comprehend that he was still alive. Before his brain could officially catch up, a question blurted from his lips.

“My mother told you about me?” he asked.

Poseidon sat upon the sand and motioned for the demigod to do so as well. When Malcolm was situated in front of the large god, Poseidon spoke again.

“I too wish for Percy to be immortal, if only out of selfish reasons. Your mother happens to agree with the prospect. Your name was the one she put forth to me as a prospective priest. If you choose to take this honor, you will need to spread his worship. He can not become a god based off of your loyalty alone. He will need followers, as many as you can gather. When you have gathered enough then I promise you, I will build for you a great temple for you to worship from right here on this beach.”

Malcolm was stunned. Not only was the lord of the seas not killing him, but Poseidon was giving him his personal blessing to expand the worship of his god. Better yet, he was getting his mothers blessing as well. He had to stop from pinching himself. He didn’t care if this was a dream. Morpheus could keep him if that was the case.

“You and mother honor me my lord.” Malcolm breathed out. “I will accept! I will not let you down. I will spread his worship throughout all of the camp. Everyone will pray to him.”

“Good! I will look forward to it and wish you luck.” Poseidon’s face changed, his smile leaving him “I must give you two warnings though. The first is something I think you expect. I believe I know my son well enough to assume that at some point he will find out about your worship and ask or demand you stop. You stay brave and continue this course, even in face of his disapproval.”

Malcolm was silent for a moment as he thought on this. He also had had that thought. Percy wasn’t the type to accept praise easily. No one in the camp knew why, although Annabeth said there was a good reason. To tell him that you were going to worship him, that you believed him to worthy of devotion and sacrifice; the child of Athena could see how that might drive him to want it stopped.

“I will be brave my lord. If my god can face down the lord of war at 12 and hold up the sky at 13, then I can face his disappointment in his worship. It will pain me but I believe that I can do it.” Malcolm stated confidently. Poseidon smiles at him for this. “And the second point sir?”

At this question, the sea god’s eyes grew dark. “At some point if you have not already, you will hear tale of Heracles and how he ascended. You must promise me that you will never advocate for this method. If you hear someone speaking of the method, you will quiet them no matter what that means necessary. You must swear to me that even if you have to stop Percy yourself, you will not allow him to follow in those footsteps. He must walk Dionysus’ path instead.”

Malcolm heard the severity in the god’s voice. He knew of the tale of Heracles, of how he had thrown himself upon the pyre and burned out his mortality. It sounded brutal and painful. No one from camp had seen the god of demigods in over a thousand years. That was not the godhood nor the ascent the child of Athena wanted for his god.

“I swear. I will not allow that to happen.” The grey eyed boy responded with matching intensity.

Poseidon nodded. “Good. Now I will leave you to your praying.” At this the sea god stood and walked a little bit closer to the sea. He stopped and looked back at Malcolm. “I wish you good luck, priest of Percy.”

Malcolm looked away as the god started to glow. When he looked back, Poseidon was gone. Malcolm knelt back down before the small shrine and threw a blue cookie onto the altar flame.

“Give me strength Percy. I will need it.”

Chapter Text

Malcolm needed to find a way to spread the worship of Percy and he thought he had the perfect plan for it. It would just require him convincing two of the least serious people in the camp to go along with it.

The problem that he would have with trying to evangelize to grow the belief in his god was that he could run into the two opposite ends of the spectrum of belief. Either the wrong people would take him too seriously or the right people would not take him seriously enough. Unfortunately, being his mother’s child would hinder him in the current subtle recruitment he had to perform. Words from the mouth of a child of Athena were always a double-edged sword.

If the wrong people took him too seriously it could cause problems, such as him getting smote. Permission from his mother or not, the king and queen of Olympus would likely not take to his mission too kindly. But if he was not serious enough with it, the right people would think that it was some tactic he was trying to pull on them. They would think there was some plan behind it that they could not see.

He needed someone who could bombastically proclaim their devotion without the wrong eyes turning while he continued his subtle influence through the arts and crafts. Someone whose words wouldn’t necessarily be taken seriously but could say them with enough truth in them that they would turn the right heads and plant the idea of his god in their minds. He needed someone who could believe but make it seem like they didn’t.

He knew just the perfect duo for the job.

He had seen the looks Connor and Travis gave Percy when they thought no one but themselves was looking. He knows that look in their eyes because he sees it when he looks in a mirror and thinks of his god of protection. He knew the possibility of worship was within them. He just needed to bring it out.

His opportunity came a few nights after his meeting with Poseidon. He had kept track of the boys, even occasionally “borrowing” his sister’s hat when she wasn’t using it. He found them breaking into the camp store late at night and decided that now was the perfect time.

He snuck up behind them and spoke “Hello boys.”

They jumped and whipped around to see Malcolm standing there.

“Dude! Don’t scare us like that.” Conner whispered.

“Yeah. You about gave us a heart attack” Travis followed up his brother.

“My apologies.” Malcolm said condescendingly. “Having a good late-night break and entry?”

The twins of Hermes looked at each other then back at Malcolm sheepishly before Connor spoke again.

“Alright. You caught us. What do you want?” He spoke looking like he hoped it wouldn’t be anything too bad.

Malcolm smiled a victorious smile. He knew he had them now. He motioned for them to follow him and then started walking towards the beach. He heard their footsteps and then saw them pull up along side of him. They walked in silence as they finally made it to the beach and the child of Athena started to head towards his shrine. Connor eventually spoke up.

“Dude, where are you taking us?” He questioned, confusion in his voice. Usually when the twins were caught, they were taken to the big house and Chiron gave them a slap on the wrist. Typically, it was more chores or no desert for a week. He would punish them harder, but their dad was the god of thieves. The instinct to steal was in their very blood.

“You will see.” Malcom said cryptically.

As they came over a dune, the twins got their first look at the shrine. It still wasn’t much to look at. A small lean to really. But there was an altar and imagery of Percy and as many of his deeds as could be fit. Malcolm had tried to organize them by the virtues he thought his god represented. A photograph someone had taken of Percy and Annabeth holding hands on the pier. Percy holding up the sky with threads of grey coming into his hair. The Son of the Sea in the middle of a hurricane holding his trusted sword. Loyalty, struggle and protective Wrath.

The sight seemed to stun the two sons of Hermes. They shuffled after Malcolm, still trying to take in what exactly they were seeing. Eventually, Connor recovered first and spoke.

“Malcolm, what is this?” He whispered as if afraid to bring attention to the area. The grey-eyed boy had the thought that he probably was.

“This is the altar where I pray to my god.” Malcolm stated calmly. “This is where I pray to Percy.”

The twins stood in silence for a moment before looking at each other. Malcolm had noticed this habit when he had been stalking observing them. Whenever a decision needed to be made, their first instinct was to look to their brother. It was like they were telepathically communicating, operating on a different frequency than the rest of the world, and were able to tell what the other was thinking. They looked back at him, and Connor spoke first again.

“Dude, Percy is mortal.” the son of Hermes stated.

Malcolm simply smiled and replied, “For now.” He turned and lit a small fire in the altar. Then he knelt. There was silence behind him again for a few moments. It was Travis who first sat down beside him. He had noticed this as well in his observations. While Connor was often their voice, Travis was often their action. Malcolm knew they were two distinct people, but they had patterns when they operated together. It’s why they struggled when not paired with their twin. They were so used to operating with someone who could simply know what they were going to do. After Connor sat down as well, he spoke.

“Why?” the son of Hermes asked. “Why are you worshipping Percy?”

“Why not? He has committed great acts worthy of worship. He held the sky in an act of sacrifice and humility. He fought a Titan to a standstill to protect me and my siblings. He was willing to risk expulsion from the camp to go and save his friend. He turned down an easy path to godhood in order to fight for protections for all demigods.” The child of Athena whispered.  The two boys next to him hanging on his every word. “How many children will no longer be left wondering about their parents, growing bitter and taking up space in your cabin due to his actions? Does he not deserve praise for this? Could you not see yourself worshipping him for this? Does he not deserve to be upheld by our belief so that he might go on holding the gods to their words? To their oaths? Loyalty! Self-sacrifice! Humility! Protecting a loved one with all of one’s might! Would you not also pray to a god who embodies those traits?”

The grey-eyed boy looked at the Twins and saw what he had known to be there. Worship. They understood him. He had needed something to hang onto after the war and had found it in worship. In the tales of Percy, he had found strength and resolve. In moments of coldness, He had remembered the feeling of awe and safety he had felt when he had seen Percy standing upon the lake and stop a Titan. Percy may not yet be a god but Malcolm would fight if someone said worshipping him did nothing.

“Dude, I get it.” Connor spoke softly “I would love for Percy to be a god. He damn sure would do a lot better at it than a lot of the other ones. But this is dangerous, not just for you but for Percy as well. Could you imagine what Zeus would do if he found out? Di Immortales, what would your mom do?”

Malcolm smiled “I have it on good authority she would approve considering I already have her blessing.”

That stopped the Twins short and for once it broke their pattern.

“You got what?!” Travis nearly yelled and was quickly shushed. He quieted “How did you get that? How do you even know that?”

“Quite simple really. Poseidon told me himself.” Malcolm paused to stifle a laugh as their mouths hung open at this statement. “It’s true. The lord of the seas came and gave me both his and my mother’s blessing. I was a bit reluctant to believe the part about my mother at first, but I came back the next night to find an owl feather lying by the fire and a book on religious practices. It’s sanctioned. Maybe not by the king but by Percy’s own father and my mother.”

The two children of Hermes were quiet for a moment then looked at each other again. They stared for a long minute and then Travis nodded.

“How do we join? “Connor asked.

Malcolm smiled at that. There they were. His first two true converts.   

Chapter Text

Connor sometimes hated being the son of Hermes.

Don’t get him wrong. He could never do what Luke did. He remembers the pain of that betrayal. Though Percy had been the one to suffer the blows of it physically, the son of the sea had only known Luke for one summer. Sure, Luke had helped train Percy because Luke was the best at camp and Percy needed the best to even be able to keep up with him. But for Connor and Travis, that was their older brother.

That was who they turned to for a couple of years before Percy showed up. That was their cabin leader. He was the one they turned to when everything sucked. When their mom died, his shoulder was who they cried into. When Annabeth almost killed Connor for playing a prank, Luke was the one to pull her off and to sit with Travis as he healed. Both brothers loved Luke. They could not imagine him betraying them and in fact neither twin hadn’t accepted it until they heard it for themselves through that Iris message. The pain from the betrayal left deep scars.

During the Winter, it had been easy to be the new Hermes cabin counselors. The only new person was Nico. He was just a dorky, if a little bit creepy, kid.  Someone who it was easy to mentor. Considering who his dad was, it made sense that a lot of things came easy to him. When He vanished, it hit those same scars again.

It wasn’t until the next summer that Connor began to kind of understand where Luke was coming from. To see an influx of campers, the majority of which were unclaimed, come back and realize that they were in charge over all of them had been daunting. To hear the struggles that many of the unclaimed went through during the year. To hear, see and feel the bitterness of the unclaimed whenever a new child was claimed.  To realize that an unclaimed had snuck off in the middle of the night and to only assume that they went to join Luke. All of this cut even deeper into the scars in both of their hearts.

 But the worst was the new campers. To see the confused and scared young faces as Connor had to explain that monsters were real and trying to kill them. To try and channel what Luke used to be for them as a new kid cried into Travis’ shoulder on their first night in the camp. To Connor having to tell a young demigod how everything was going to be okay as Travis went to look for ambrosia and nectar while the kid’s hands bled from a sword cutting him. The kid was 10. He shouldn’t have had to hold a sword that wasn’t plastic. All of these things burned at the Connor.

Both him and his brother had realized they had to go talk to a new young girl looking confused at the sacrificial fire in the mess hall. She was unclaimed and didn’t know who to sacrifice to. Connor had told her to give some to Hermes as he was hosting her. Travis had told her to sacrifice some to her parent in hopes of gaining their attention. These phrases, no matter how many times they repeated them, had tasted bitter in his mouth. They tasted like a poison Connor had been forced to swallow.  

Connor and his brother’s emotions had gotten better of them a lot in that time. Connor could not tell you how many prank planning sessions had been started as a means to blow off steam. If their pranks were harsher in the two summers before the Battle of Manhattan, it was only due to the need to purge themselves of these dark feelings. It did not help their reputation. Katie Gardner still held a grudge.

But it had been these experiences that had had them accepting the worship of Percy so readily. While Malcolm might think of the son of the sea as a god of protection, Connor saw him as a god of loyalty and his brother saw him as a god of trust.

Connor had seen Percy’s loyalty on so many occasions and was always still so surprised by how deep it ran. The Riptide wielder had enough loyalty in him to demand that he be allowed to travel across the country with a pack of manhating women just to save Annabeth and when they had denied him that, he broke out of camp to do it anyways. Something about that called to Connor.

His brother would point to the trust that Percy had held in them and others. He trusted in Nico to follow him into the underworld for the mere chance of bettering their odds against the Titans. He had trusted in Daedalus to do the right thing in destroying the Labyrinth. He had trusted in the other children of Hermes to not cut them out of the war effort. Connor knew that amount of trust had touched Travis deeply.

Both boys would point to the son of the Sea’s actions at the end of the War; Travis to the trust he held in Annabeth to listen to her and the trust he still held in Luke to hand the blade over. Connor would point to the loyalty Percy had shown to his demigods – his soldiers – to not accept godhood but to fight for the campers who had just fought for him and to fight for the ones who he had fought against, recognizing that they too were his people.  

Connor would say that he prayed to Percy for loyalty. It was in his nature to be a thief and loyalty was hard to come by in those circles. His brother often prayed to their god for trust. The son of Hermes was planning on going into business and an untrusted merchant was one that often found himself broke.

When they had asked Malcolm what they could do for the cult religion of Percy, he had told them that they were tasked with bringing in new people.  Worship had always spread across trade routes and roads. Since almost everyone came to them first, it should make it easy for them to spread the word.

So now when a new camper was nervous on their first night, Connor soothed them with tales of his god of loyalty. When a camper was having trouble falling to sleep, Travis would walk them down to the beach and sit with them at the shrine of Percy. When a kid still to young to be holding a sword looked nervous at the prospect of their first training session, Travis would help them put on their armor while Connor told them about how Percy’s greatness was evident even from the first time he held a sword.

When a new and lonely looking half-blood looked into the sacrificial altar unsure of what to do, the twins of Hermes would still be the ones to walk up to them. Connor would still tell them to sacrifice to Hermes as he was hosting them. Travis would still tell them to sacrifice to their parents and that they had a greater chance of being claimed on that night than they did in the past. But they would also tell them to make one more sacrifice.

As Travis helped them hold their plate, Connor would tell them to sacrifice to Percy, the god of demigod children, for his help in getting them safely to camp.

Because they were all the children of Percy and Connor loved that feeling.  

Chapter Text

Hestia liked to think that she was an observant goddess.

All gods and goddesses had their ways of gathering rumors and knowledge. Aphrodite heard all whispers between lovers and got to know many secrets that way. Athena heard all of the rumors of new knowledge that came into the world when done in intellectual study. Ares heard the scared whispering of soldiers in barracks. Dionysus heard the ramblings of the drunk and the mad.

Hestia was no exception. She was the Goddess of the hearth and home. She heard all of the things spoken around the dinner table in every house. She was the one who heard about all of the familial strife and all of the happy times as well. If a family was celebrating a birthday at home or mourning over a loved one in each other’s company, she would also be there.

Of course, people don’t tend to realize that. With modern technology, there are less fires in homes for cooking. So many assumed her power had waned. But those that did misunderstood her power. The hearth was not always a physical thing but rather it was where your heart belonged. Where you look forward to rest and recovery.

This applied to the divine as well. Although many gods do not realize it, a temple is a hearth for them. It was a place where they belonged. No matter what happened outside of the walls of their temple, so long as someone was there, and someone was worshipping it was the home of what ever god was being worshipped. And as the goddess of the concept of home, Hestia was always there with them.

Now being truly present in every home across the world is a large task, even for one as old and powerful as Hestia. So while she was technically everywhere, the goddess of hearth and home preferred to have most of her focus on one location at a time.

Sometimes she was on Olympus chatting with her fellow gods. Though she was not on the council anymore, she was still respected as the eldest child of Titan of time. So many would come to pay respects to her and she would often use this as a means of gathering gossip and rumors.

Sometimes Hestia would follow heroes on their quests from the sidelines. Occasionally she would intervene if she thought it necessary but not often. She had gone on a spree of intervention once and it only ended in more tragedy. So she learned to pick and choose her moments. Besides, it wasn’t often heroes went to a place where she could intervene. Most monsters did not have a concept of home and therefore she would not have power near them.   

Sometimes she would simply sit at camp half-blood. She would watch the child demi-gods run this way and that way, friends made, hearts broken, tears cried, and laughs laughed. She herself had never had a child, taking a vow of virginity to appease her brothers. They had feared what a child of hers could do. But despite not having her own children, she loved these ones. The hearth was always about family. She had never approved with how her fellow gods treated theirs.

It was on one of her trips to camp half-blood that she felt a newer, smaller flame away from the normal ones she sat at when she visited. At first, she thought it was one of the new cabins going up. She loved that more of her extended family was being recognized and could not have been prouder of the son of Poseidon when he had made that part of his oaths with the gods.

But when she visited again a week later, the goddess of the hearth was sure it wasn’t one of the new cabins. It was too far away, and it had strengthened in the time while she was gone. This had piqued her curiosity. She adopted her child like form and walked through the camp to where she felt the flame. Hestia could have teleported, but she loved to walk the grounds here and see even more of the children. The fact that the camp had grown in size in the short time since the battle with her father made her smile.

So, She walked, smiling and waving at some of the younger campers. She even caught sight of one of the younger children training with Percy, something close to awe on the child’s face. Though she did perceive that it looked a good bit stronger than awe. She noted that and thought of it as she continued, and her walk took her to the beach.

As she came over one of the dunes on the beach, she saw a structure standing. It looked like it had been a temporary building that was beginning to be slowly reinforced. Some benches and been placed before it and what looked like a sacrificial altar had been placed in the center.

Where Hestia had been curious before, she now understood. All altars and temples fell under her as they were just the home of gods. She wondered closer, inquisitive about who they could be worshipping all the way out here. It looked nothing like a shrine to Poseidon. She had seen plenty of those and this was far bluer than it was her brother’s typical teal.

When she finally got near the altar and was able to make out the artwork surrounding it, she instantly understood why it was kept out of the way. This was no altar to a god, at least not one yet. This was an altar to her favorite demigod. All around her was artwork of Percy Jackson and his exploits. But where she would have assumed the other demigods would have put up artwork of all of the monsters he had slain, instead there were the moments of all the people he helped and those he couldn’t.

A sewn patch of Percy holding the hunter Zoe in her final moments. A figurine of Percy mid hurricane. A drawing clearly done by a younger demigod depicting the son of the sea riding a wave drawn in crayon. But her favorite was a beautifully drawn picture of Percy handing over Pandora’s jar to herself.

Hestia smiled. She walked up to the small altar and decided that this temple needed to be more impressive. The goddess of the hearth put her hand to the ground around the altar and without changing the artwork she made the temple new. Where before there were only well-worn footprints in the sand leading to the altar, now there laid a mosaic tile floor depicting some of Percy’s more heroic deeds. Where before there were a few worn down benches dragged here, now there were a dozen well-made stone benches ranging out from the altar standing shaped like an amphitheater. Finally, where before had stood a small sacrificial altar fire, was a fire pit inlaid in blue tile. It was truly a hearth now.

The goddess of the hearth knelt down and started tending to the fire. Hestia had a feeling that someone would come along soon. She was proven right when not a few minutes later her brother Poseidon appeared before her. Before the lord of the seas could speak, she smiled at him and patted the ground beside her.

“Come join me brother.” She spoke softly.

Poseidon looked like she had taken all of the wind out of his sails but acquiesce to her ask. The earthshaker sat beside Hestia as she continued to tend to the flames. They sat there for a minute simply enjoying the feeling of the newly beautified temple. Finally, Poseidon’s worries could be restrained no more.

 “You don’t seem upset to have found this temple. Do you approve?” the sea lord asked.

Hestia looked at her brother seeing a desperate need in them for her to say yes. It reminded her of the dark times when her and her siblings were in her fathers’ stomach. Many forget that she had been the first to be eaten and that it could be a long process between births of gods. By the time Demeter was eaten and dropped into the stomach with her, Hestia had been a fully grown goddess. She had raised each of her siblings as they came into the stomach. She had held them as they cried and watched as they grew. Its why she had never felt the need to have children. While they may be siblings by birth, she considered them her children more than she considered Rhea her mother.

“Of course I do brother.” She stated, seeing the tension visibly leave her siblings shoulders. “Why would I not?”

“Well, the last time something like this happened, you lost your seat on the council.” Poseidon said looking into the fire. “I thought it might bring up bad memories.”

Hestia laughed at that and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh brother, you forget. I was the one to offer up the seat to stop any conflict. I was tired of the chair and much prefer my place now.” The goddess of the hearth waved her hand as if to point at their seat by the fire. She then pointed to the picture that depicted Percy giving her the jar. “Besides look how your child’s followers honor me. They know the significance of this action. Why would I not support the ascension of my champion.”

Poseidon smiled at that. They fell back into a comfortable familial silence for a time. Then Poseidon’s head perked up as if something had occurred to him.

“Sister. How did you even find out about this place?” The lord of horses asked.

“Temples are the homes of gods, brother. I know where most of them are.” Hestia paused and smiled again. “I think this quest is farther along than you might think.”

 Poseidon was startled at this. “Is Percy a full-“

“Not yet.” The goddess interrupted. “But the process is on its way.”

Poseidon calmed at this. After a few moments, he left wishing her a good night. Hestia continued to sit there and tend to the fire. After a while, she heard someone coming and watched as a child of Athena appeared over the dune. The child looked around in awe at what the temple had become. When he finally noticed her, she saw him gulp.

He approached her and knelt. “My lady Hestia” he said.

“What is your name child?” The goddess asked.

“My name is Malcolm, my lady. Malcolm Pace.” He said, still looking at the ground.

She reached out and took his chin softly to raise his head. “Did you make this temple, Malcolm?”

She watched him gulp again while looking in her eyes. She saw as he seemed to steel himself and answered.

“Yes, my lady. Its where I worship my god, Percy Jackson.” He stated confidently.

She chuckled lightly at that. Oh, what loyalty her favorite demigod had inspired. Hestia saw Malcolm’s shoulders tense at her laugh. She guessed he was sensitive about the subject.

“Oh, I do not laugh at the concept or you actions, child.” The goddess was quick to put that thought to rest. “You have done well here. Although it wasn’t much to look at, this place clearly had heart and love put into it.”

“We-Were you the one to change it, my lady?” The child of Athena asked.

“Of course. As good as you had done, I thought that the worship site of my champion deserved to look more pristine.” Hestia reached out and pulled the young demigod close before kissing him on the forehead. “Go forth, Priest of Percy, and take my blessing with you to spread the worship of my favorite demigod.” 

With that, Hestia left the site. She continued to keep closer attention there and heard as the excited Malcolm would tell more of his brethren in belief about his encounter with her and show them the upgrade she had given to their worship site. She also felt a large amount of offerings that night from both the dining room of the camp and from the fire pit she had left at the temple.

Hestia was an observant goddess, and she knew what was coming. She could not wait for her champion to ascend.

Chapter Text

Malcolm had known he would be confronted about his god.

When he was given his charge and his privilege to be the first priest of Percy, he had gone on a researching spree, in part helped by his mother giving him books on the subject. He had researched early Christianity, old mystery cults of the ancient Greek world and all sorts of other early religions. He had learned many facts but broke down the most important into four different things.

The first was that you needed to name the followers of the religion. Giving a name to the followers gave it more of an air of officiality and gave those that followed a group identity to feel a part of. If someone felt like there was a group of people all believing in the same god that they did, it would make their faith stronger, not that there was much need for that as they all saw their god walking among them every day.

The Stoll twins were the ones to come up with the name. Malcolm’s first disciples were often the first ones of the faith that new campers interacted with and had taken to calling the demigods they recruited the ‘Children of Percy’. When Malcolm had questioned them on it, they had said it was because Percy had a parental feeling to him, especially to younger campers. They saw the strongest Demigod in the last 1000 years and felt protected like they imagined a parent would leave them feeling. Even Malcolm had to agree. Protection and Loyalty. They were two things a parent should leave their child feeling.

And so it was that the followers of Percy became the Children of Percy.

The next thing a good god needed when it came to the Greek gods was epithets. Percy’s father had Earthshaker, Zeus had PanHellenos, and Malcolm’s mother had Parthenos. For Percy, coming up with these was easy. Protector. The wielder of riptides.  Hurricane rider. Volcano exploder. The Loyal one. The demigod’s savior. The Titans Bane. None of them wanted to include prophecy in any of the names. The prophecy was a vehicle, but Percy was good and worthy of worship by his very nature and the deeds he had done.

The third thing a religion needed to do was come up with the rituals that it would follow. The rituals could be methods of proving oneself, ways of prayer to your god for strength or wisdom or whatever virtue they held, a method of cleansing oneself of sin, or just a means of community and thanks given to the god. Some older cults were mystery cults meaning that they did not share what their rituals were, as a way to entice those curious to join.

Malcolm did not see the Children of Percy being such a cult. Their rituals would be free and open, as unrestrained as the sea. Nor did the child of Athena think the rituals needed to be complicated. His god was a simple one in how he acted. The protector did not think about protecting, he simply did it. He did not think about wielding a hurricane. He simply willed it to being. The most Percy had had to think on his decisions was when offered the ultimate offering of godhood. But the second the wielder of riptides had looked at Annabeth, his loyalty sprang into place and he did not think about denying the offer. Malcolm knew he was not alone in using that as inspiration to be more loyal himself.

 So their rituals would be simple. A burning of blue foods and quiet asks for strength, loyalty and mercy. The older children telling the stories of The Loyal one to younger children. Donations of Art depicting their god in his many triumphs.

The last thing that Malcolm had learned about early religions was that there was always conflict and confrontation. Both could come from outside of the religion and from within the religion. Malcolm felt lucky that there currently was no inner confrontations. Although some of the campers had different virtues they preferred to pray to Percy for and different aspects of his character to extoll, none of the older campers begrudged the others for trying to find what they were missing, and all of the newer campers took all of the aspects in. They were simply happy to have something tangible to believe in while their whole world view shifts.

But the first priest of Percy knew that the external conflict was coming. He saw it in the looks he was getting from Clarisse and Annabeth. Anytime Clarisse had a new sibling appear already believing in the Hurricane rider, she got a sour look in her face. The Stoll twins often had to console said sibling after a brutal tongue lashing. Malcolm himself had received light admonishment from his sister when she had found out about it. But he had steeled himself in his loyalty to his god and told her that it was blessed by their mother. She had walked away stunned at that statement.

Malcolm had known then his toughest struggle was yet to come. He had been at the altar early in the morning praying to his god when it finally arrived.

“So. This is the altar to me. Well at least there is blue to it.”

Malcolm had felt a chill at that voice. He looked to where it had come from and there stood his god, Percy Jackson. Malcolm had been warned about this moment. He knew that this was going to be a test of his faith and loyalty. He prayed to the very being standing in front of him for loyalty and threw a blue cookie onto the fire. Later, he would swear he saw Percy flinch.

“Yes. This is where we pray to you and where we make sacrifices.” Malcolm stated calmly.

His god looked back at him in confusion, perhaps due to how nonchalant Malcom had been in that statement.

“Why? I am not a god. I am just Percy.” The wielder of riptides questioned.

“You are not a god yet. But you are on your way to becoming one.” The child of Athena responded. “We pray to you for many reasons. Loyalty, Safety, Mercy, Protection.”

“But I am not a god! I turned down that offer!” Percy Yelled. The ground shook a little bit at that. Malcolm watched as his god visibly calmed himself before continuing. “I am not a god. I am a normal demigod just like you and everyone else in this camp.”

 “Now that is definitely not true. You are not a normal demigod, Percy. You are different from us.” Malcolm said. As he saw Percy’s face drop, he continued quickly. “Not every demigod can walk into the underworld and back out. Not every demigod can fight a Titan and live. Not every Demi god can summon a hurricane or blow up a volcano or make the earthquake just because they get upset. You are not a normal demigod, Percy. You are more. You can’t blame us for seeing that.”

“But most of those things I didn’t intend to do!” Percy shouted, looking like was desperate to break Malcolm from this line of thought. A storm was whipping up above them now. “Mt. St. Helens was an accident that almost killed me. The earthquakes only come from my dad. I didn’t even know I had summoned a hurricane until someone pointed it out. None of that was intentional!”

“That only proves it more Percy. That your divinity is so great that you don’t have to think to will the world around you to change for you. That’s how it is with all powerful nature gods.” Malcolm reasoned. “The waves don’t stop because your father is not actively thinking of them. Just because Lord D is here doesn’t mean that the grapes aren’t growing in California. The origin of your power might have been your dad but the power itself is all yours.”

“Great! So I am just some terrible dude bringing natural disasters and suffering wherever I go!” Percy screamed. The winds were really picking up and funnels looked like they were forming above the pair. “I am just like every other god then!”

 “NO!” Malcolm screamed back as he grabbed Percy’s hands. That action seemed to shock the Loyal one out of his emotions and the storm that had been raging, nearly throwing Malcolm in its intensity, quieted instantly. “You are not like them. No other god inspires us with like you do with your loyalty. No other god shows mercy to their enemies like you have! No other god cares to try and protect us like you do!”

Percy looked stunned at this, not used to Malcolm showing this much emotion.

“You are not just another name to be added to the pantheon. You are OUR god, my lord.” Malcolm whispered.

Malcolm’s god of protection looked afraid at that.

“Don’t call me that. Please. You need to stop.” The son of the sea pleaded.

The son of Athena felt guilty at that plea. But he remembered Poseidon’s words. The grey-eyed boy knew he had to keep going.

“I am sorry, but I can’t. We need this. We need you. The Children of Percy will continue to pray.” Malcolm said solemnly. “I beg your forgiveness in what I must do, my lord.”

Percy Jackson flinched at the title then was silent for a time. He looked at the artwork displayed on the walls and back at Malcolm.

“Fine. Do what you want. Nothing is going to come of it any ways.” The Hurricane rider turned to leave before turning back. “Just no live sacrifices please. I am already uncomfortable with all of this, and I don’t want that on my conscious.”

“Of course, my lord.” Malcolm said back with a smile.

Percy threw one last glare at him before stalking back off to the Camp. Malcolm could imagine he was going to be getting evil eyes from both him and Annabeth for a while. But as Malcolm looked around and started picking up the pieces of artwork thrown around during the impromptu storm cause by his god, He chuckled.

Percy liked to think of himself as not a god, but they could all see his power growing. No mere demigod has the power the protector does.

After cleaning up the temple, Malcolm knelt by the fire and threw in a few pieces of blue candy and sent a prayer asking for forgiveness to his god.

Chapter Text

Connor’s god was missing, and no one knew where he was.

Percy had just come back to camp for winter break and all of the year round campers were happy to see him. The believers were even more so. They loved having their god around as it left them feeling even more inspired. Plus they had been worried.

No one had heard from Olympus in a while. Even Lord D had disappeared. While this wasn’t necessarily unwelcome, it did leave them feeling uneasy. To go from hearing as much as they had during the summer to silence in the winter was a startling change. The younger campers who had gotten accustomed to at least seeing Lord D had had to be calmed semi regularly. Many had found solace in worship at the altar of Percy.

Then like their god had heard them, he had appeared. Bag slung over his shoulder and saying something about an early winter break, Percy had been inundated with hugs from the younger campers, after his own girlfriend of course. The Loyal one had seemed confused by all of the sudden massive amounts of physical affection given to him by the young demigods but understood after hearing one of them say ‘my lord’. Connor remembered the glare his god had sent Malcolm at hearing that but had assuage the young campers to let him go put his things in his cabin.

Dinner and the bonfire that night had been a raucous affair. When Connor had done a sacrifice to the wielder of riptides, praying for the protection of his friends, he nearly swore when he saw Percy’s head snap up. Whether Percy heard him while he was speaking quietly or if he had actually heard his prayer, Connor never got the chance to ask.

The next morning, the son of the sea was gone.

At first the campers just thought maybe he was out swimming or in the forest. Connor used it as a nice game for the younger campers. “Go find the god” he had said.  But by noon, they were worried, and Annabeth was starting to get that crazy look in her eye. By 4 in the afternoon, the camp as a whole was getting scared and frantic. Annabeth had called Tyson to see if he had gone to Atlantis, but Percy wasn’t there. By dinner, it was declared that he was missing.

The Children of Percy were of two minds due to their god missing and decided either one of two things had happened. On the one hand, this was it. This was the proof of his divinity. All of the other gods had gone missing and now theirs was gone as well. Clearly whatever was happening to the gods had happened to the Hurricane rider also.

But they believed that he would come back to them. They were his children after all.

On the other hand, someone had just stolen their god. This thought enraged the Children and Connor knew he could use this.

“Use that anger!” Connor shouted at the Children. All had gathered at the altar that night to discuss their missing god. It was here that the two thoughts had formed. “Channel our god’s righteous protection and find him. Find him and the ones that would dare steal our god! While he is our protector, We are his. While he imbues and strengthens our loyalty, He claims dominion over it. Let no stone be unturned. Let no path be untread. We will find the Loyal one!”

A cheer went up at his words and stoked the fires in the hearts of all those with true beliefs.  Over the next day and a half, plans were made and search parties were paired up. Although Annabeth wasn’t necessarily happy about the inclusion of what she had deemed “a dangerous cult”, there was nothing she could do. They were incensed and ready to go searching.

Many had given offerings at the altar in hopes that they would aid their god wherever he may be. Connor counted himself among them. He swore he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder when he did so. He had felt Percy there with him.

Connor’s god was missing but they would find him.

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Travis’s god had been stolen and it was taking all the mercy he could pray for not go burn down a cabin.

The day before the search parties were meant to go out, Annabeth had gotten a vision from Hera saying that a person who would lead to finding Travis’s god would appear wearing only one shoe. She then got a call for help from a Satyr and, low and behold, a guy with one shoe is there and just so happens to be a son of Zeus named Jason.

It had felt like a slap in the face to the Children of Percy. It had felt like she was trying to replace their god with a son of her husband. It wouldn’t work.

Of course it didn’t matter, as not a day later the new kids had gone off on a quest. One again given by Hera. The Children of Percy paid no mind and were still planning to search for their god. Annabeth had had to plead with them to give the new kids time and to not start searching beyond the local area.

They had done so only because of their loyalty to Percy and her ties to him.

A week later, the questers had returned, and the truth had come out. Romans were real, the next great prophecy had started, and Hera had stolen their god. The anger that had surged through Travis shocked him. The righteous indignation at the fact that queen goddess had taken their protector, their hero, their GOD was strong. It had taken Connor calming him to stop Travis from grabbing a torch and burning down her cabin, consequences be damned.

It had always been that way. Connor was the calmer one and the diplomat. Travis was the emotional one and the one willing to throw the first punch.

So here Travis knelt by the fire at the Altar alone. His brother and Malcolm were handling the others, soothing them with their words and stopping a full mob from forming within the children. Travis was not the only one wanting retribution against Hera. Travis threw a cookie into the fire and prayed to his god that he could show a modicum of forgiveness as Percy had done when pardoning those he had fought against in the war.

“Who is this Temple for?”

Travis looked up at the path leading to the altar to see the son of Zeus -- no Jupiter looking at him. Jason seemed impressed with the Temple. He walked up and admired the artwork on the walls as Travis watched him.

A Roman. Travis could still barely comprehend it. To think that the split between the two cultures was so great to cause an actual split in the gods.

“It is for our Protector.” Travis spoke plainly. He was not use to being the one interacting with others. Although he wished it wasn’t so, he knew his twin was the better orator of the two.

“Oh so Mars then. Wait no. Greek. So Athena?” Jason reasoned, still looking at the Art. “But most of this art doesn’t seem to be about her.”

“That’s because you are wrong. This is not a temple to Athena.” Travis said semi annoyed at the roman’s intrusion into this space. “It is a temple to Percy. The Protector. The Loyal one. The demigod’s savior.”

At that, Jason finally looked at Travis with confusion. “But isn’t he the guy that is missing. He’s just a demigod, right?”

Travis bristled at that. Just a demigod. How dare this upstart talk about his god like that. He prayed to Percy for the strength of will to show mercy to the clearly unknowing and uneducated roman.

“Currently he is a demigod yes.” Travis said through clenched teeth “But we believe him to be more. We believe that he will ascend to godhood. And so, we pray to him.”

“Isn’t that a little much? I mean you really expect a mortal to ascend? No one has done that since Bacchus?” Jason said with disbelief. “Just because he is a big name here doesn’t mean he’s a god. He is just a demigod.”

Travis’s goodwill snapped.

“He is not just a demigod! Percy braved the underworld and returned before he was 13! He sailed the Sea of Monsters before 14! He chose to willingly take the weight of the world onto his shoulders, freed the hundred hand beings, and stopped one of the strongest Titans to exist in their tracks single handedly. More then that, my god turned down the gift of godhood so we could gain protection and recognition. He is the very definition of Loyalty, Mercy and a protector!”

Jason was looking at Travis with his hands in a surrendering pose and his eyes wide. Travis decided that this was not enough. He had to show this Roman his god’s power. The son of Hermes grabbed the other boy’s wrist and pulled him to a kneeling position by the altar. He then put a blue cookie into Jason’s hand.

“Throw it into the fire and pray to Percy.” Travis said. “Pray for protection in the year ahead. You are going to be a hero in a prophecy. You will need his protection and he has a soft spot for heroes of prophecy.”

Jason gave him a side eye before doing as instructed. He obviously didn’t expect it to work. But as Jason closed his eyes and prayed, Travis saw a small blue aura surround the son of the sky god. Jason’s eyes snapped open to look at Travis in shock.

“You feel it don’t you?” Travis whispered, looking into Jason’s eyes. “You feel his protection.”

“I do.” Jason whispered back in awe.

Travis smiled at the other boy. They had all heard from Jason how rarely the gods seemed to interact with the Romans. For him to feel one’s touch personally must have been a shock to the boy. They had also heard how Jason had been Hera’s personal Champion. Travis thought that this was a fitting payback.

Hera had stolen Travis’s god. So, Travis was going to steal her favorite Demigod and offer him as a present for when Percy got back.       

Chapter Text

Poseidon was upset. Annoyed. Hell, the lord of the seas was bordering on angry.

For the past 6 months, he had been stuck on Olympus due to some fear his brother had conjured. A fear of demigods of all things. The verbal lashing that Percy had given the gods at the end of the second Titan war and the subsequent oaths they had been sworn to had obviously shaken his brother. Percys refusal of the gift of godhood had angered Zeus. Followed so quickly by another prophecy and his wife going missing had made the sky lord paranoid.

When Hera had returned, still shifting between her two forms, and proclaimed that Gaea and the Giants were rising, Zeus had gone into a full blown panic.

The king god had demanded that the gods cut all contact from their children. He believed that if they were to go quiet and not contact the mortal realm then the earth mother would go back to sleep and the giants would simply go away on their own.

They all knew it was folly.

They all knew that the only reason Zeus did not try to jump to action was because he feared having to rely on Percy Jackson again. Even with the inclusion of the Romans and the son of Zeus’s other form being taken along on the quest, they all knew that Percy Jackson would be one of the seven and Poseidon enjoyed watching Zeus’s face sour at that realization.

But even Poseidon had to follow the ruling of Zeus on this. He was being watched too closely to not do so. Poseidon decided to distract himself by watching his pet project. While it wasn’t often a known fact, worshiping at a temple of younger god or goddess often allowed their parents to watch in. The younger deity could of course force out such eyes if they tried but with Percy asleep and unaware of his growing following and with all of the devotion heading Percy’s way, Poseidon could almost always know what was happening in Camp Half-Blood.

Poseidon grinned in something close to vindication to watch his brother’s roman child pray to Percy. Oh, how well he and Athena had picked for their first priest and how well the child of Athena had grown his gathering of ‘children’. Even more exciting was to see a hint of a blessing upon the roman child. They all knew on some level that Juno favored Jason and that he was to be her champion as well as his fathers. But it looked like her blessing was waning and that a new one was taking place.

Poseidon had confronted Hera to confirm that she still held his child and that he still slept. She confirmed he did. So all the lord of horses could assume was that his child’s powers were growing and that he was giving blessings in his sleep, if only minor ones.

It meant the plan was working. But that meant more eyes were watching.

Poseidon was lounging in his temple upon Mount Olympus in between the council meetings. Many of the other Olympians were trying to convince Zeus that they needed to act and Poseidon did not feel like going back to Atlantis when he knew he would be called back soon. So the lord of the seas was laying in his temple and watching over his sons congregation. There was a knock on his door that had him waving away the vision.

Poseidon opened his door to see Hermes standing there. The lord of messengers had changed since the end of the Titan War. There was a bit more teeth in his smile, like he was forcing it. There was a bit more bite to his bark and a bit more venom to his barbs. There was a bit more melancholy in his eyes. There was also a bit more of a wild edge to him. A deep and older part of Poseidon wondered if he hadn’t absorbed some of Pan’s essence when the god of the wilds had moved on, as the two gods had been closely intertwined. Though the gods did not regularly sleep, his nephew looked like he desperately needed some. “

May I come in uncle?” The god of thieves asked, bags under his eyes. “I’d like to have a conversation not in public.”

Poseidon stared at Hermes for a long second before moving out of the way and sweeping his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Please nephew. Enter.”

Hermes crossed the threshold and the two gods moved to a close by sitting area.

“What is it you wish to discuss?” Poseidon asked sitting back on the couch he had vacated earlier. He noticed his nephew seemed agitated and remained standing. The lord of the seas waited for the god of merchants to speak and after a few moments, he did.

“What are you doing with my sons?” Hermes spoke in a low tone.

“What do you mean?” Poseidon questioned.

“Don’t play coy with me uncle.” Hermes spoke, that new venom seeping in. “I come out of playing catch up from my time of mourning and find the briefest moment to skirt past father’s ridiculous ban on seeing our children only to find mine worshiping your son!”

The god of thieves spat the word son like a curse. Poseidon was caught off guard by the anger and hurt in the younger god’s voice. Before he could speak, Hermes continued.

“How dare you force my children to preach in the name of your child?” Hermes roared “Is it not enough that everyone wishes to strike my sons name from the record books? Is it not enough that I had to go and personally fight to get Luke into Elysium?” The wind seemed to fall out of Hermes as he fell back onto a cushion across from Poseidon as he whispered “Is it not enough that one child of mine had to die for yours to gain glory? Now you must take them all?”

Poseidon stared at the distraught god for a long minute. He knew this would be a make-or-break moment for his project. If Hermes was not assured here, the god of Messengers would ruin everything. In a moment, Poseidon decided to pull his trump card early.

“I swear upon the river Styx,” Poseidon started, catching Hermes off guard as the younger god sat up to stare his uncle in the eye. “I am not forcing your children to worship Percy. They are doing that of their own free will. I did help start the cult but only with its first member. After that, I had no hand in it.”

Hermes sat gob smacked. His jaw hung open and his eyes confused.

When the god of roads could finally speak, he asked “Why? Why would they do that? I don’t understand.”

Poseidon sighed and stood briefly to grab Hermes’s hand. The lord of the seas pulled the younger god to sit next to him on his couch.

“What did you see when you saw your children worshipping Percy?” Poseidon questioned “What virtue were they ascribing to him? What title were they giving him?”

Hermes looked confused but answered. “They were talking about his protection. Preaching on how the younger campers didn’t need to worry about not having their parents around to protect them. Saying how Percy would protect them. The Protector was what they were calling him.”

“Ah, must have been the child of Athena speaking then. That is his preferred title for my son.” Poseidon stated.

Hermes stared at his uncle incredulously. “His preferred title? How many titles can your child have? As a matter of fact, how did you know it was the child of Athena speaking? How often do you watch this cult for your son?”

Poseidon laughed. “I am bored! With your father calling all of these meetings, I cannot find the time to make it back down to Atlantis. So, watching the prayers and sacrifices to my son is my entertainment. As for the titles of Percy, would you like to know which titles your children prefer for him?”

Hermes nods very hesitantly.

“The Merciful, the Forgiver, and the Loyal one.” Poseidon said softly. “I know you were mourning, but while you were gone Percy fought for your children. He fought to stop people from looking down on them. He fought to keep Luke’s name in a good light. He said not to look down on Luke but to view him as the perfect example that everyone has the opportunity to do the right thing, no matter how far gone, if you only trust them and forgive them.”

Poseidon waved his hand and an image of Percy’s temple appeared in front of the two gods. In the image, one of the Stoll twins was preaching on how the demigods needed to forgive each other for what happened in the war as that was what Percy would want.

“I know that it looks like I am trying to gain more glory for my son. I know that you have seen my brother do such a thing for your fellow sibling demigods. But that is not what this is about. This is not about me. This is not about glory” Poseidon spoke softly as Hermes watched his son speak before a crowd of his fellow demigods. “This is about the bond between a god and the people who he has dominion over.”

“Connor looks like a leader.” Hermes stated quietly, tears in the god’s eyes. Connor did look like a leader. He also looked terrifyingly like Luke.

“That’s because he is.” Poseidon said through a smile. “One of the first Children of Percy and the cults second priest.”

Hermes laughed at that. Then the god of thieves noticed something.

“Is that the Roman in the front row?” Hermes questioned, with an air of disbelief and a mild twitch of his form.

Poseidon saw Jason and he was indeed in the front row. He was sat next to the other Stoll brother and seemed to be in quiet conversation as they listened to Connor speak. Both boys seemed comfortable in each other’s company.

“It is indeed. I do believe that your son was the one that converted him.” Poseidon said smugly.

“Connor convinced him?” Hermes said baffled.

Poseidon laughed at that. “No, your other child did. As a matter of fact, I do believe that he is counting it as ‘stealing’ the roman from Hera.”

Hermes was silent for a moment and then started to laugh. He laughed and laughed and laughed. The god of thieves laughed so hard that he had to lean onto his uncle who also started to laugh. They laughed and leaned on each other, so drunk on the hilarity of the situation that they would later be surprised Dionysus did not show up.

Once they were both collecting themselves and could speak again, Hermes felt he must state the obvious.

“Father and Hera will not be pleased when they find out.” Hermes stated, “But they shall not find out from me Uncle.”

Poseidon was gladdened to hear that. Having the god of roads on board with the spread of his son’s worship would only help.

Poseidon knew that when Zeus and Hera found out about his project, they would be upset. Annoyed. Zeus would throw an angry tantrum. But Poseidon did not care.

His son would become a god, whether they liked it or not.

Chapter Text

Neptune awoke to the taste of stale bread and a young mans voice asking for guidance.

Though gods didn’t often sleep, Neptune had been sleeping for a while. Ever since the incident in 1906 that was incorrectly blamed on a man claiming to be his legacy, he had been content to let his consciousness fall back and allow the older version of himself to maintain control and maintenance of the seas. Camp Jupiter did not deserve his children and he would not give them any. The lord of earthquakes would force them to remain landlocked.

 Not that it seemed to very much bother the Romans. It was not like the old days where they needed to fear him and his wrath to travel anywhere. Now they had flight and all they truly needed to do was to worship his brother. It was no accident that the earthquake Shen Lun was blamed for happened the first time the lord of the seas saw an airplane take flight. It had been bad enough that the new continent his family had moved to had no true seas. For a new mode of travel to open up and take them farther from needing to cross his domains, to say it irritated the second son of Saturn was to put it lightly. He still held a grudge against Vulcan for spawning the brothers that invented it.

Neptune knew his temple had fallen into disrepair and that it was rarely visited. So the taste of bread made him too curious not to look. Masking his presence, he viewed into his temple. What he saw was a young man, just passed the age of maturity and carrying the stench of the seas on him. This was not his child, as he had been sleeping, but neither was it a legacy for the divinity rolling off of him was too great. If it was not for the fact that no self-respecting god would be found praying to another and that the lord of rivers could still smell the mortality on him, he would have thought it was another god in disguise.

This was not a roman child but a child of Greece. A child of his older half. A child of Poseidon.

Strange that a child of his Grecian half would pray to him. Neptune realized that the boy, Percy he heard his companion call him, had asked him to help with recovering his memories. As the lord of horses looked closer at Percy, he saw what the boy was talking about. Juno was playing one of her games and very dangerous one at that. But to grant his request was not within Neptune’s power and already he saw signs of the near godling trying to break free and reclaim what was lost.

Neptune decided not to go back to sleep. Instead, he would watch this child. It had been a long time since he last had one of his own and he was interested to see if Percy could bring enough glory to his name to justify claiming him as his own.

As Neptune watched the child cross the boundary line into the city, he heard that there were to be wargames that night. So, he found an overlooking hill and set up a viewing spot for himself.

As night fell and the games began, Neptune could see Percy from a distance. He looked like a warrior and moved liked one that had seen combat before. As he watched his Grecian son blow up the water cannons the defense was using to make an opening for his team to use, Neptune felt a bit of vindictive pleasure. How dare they use his domain to try and keep out his son while the lord of fresh waters’ temple lay in near ruins. But also Neptune was impressed by Percy and his control over his father’s domains.

But there was something else there as well.

Pieces of Percy’s divinity were spreading through his cohort as they charged in. Spreading across the battlefield and protecting them from otherwise fatal blows. When the horns were blown, no one on his side had been hurt. This was astonishing. It was like he was their protector. The only injury to come out of it happened post battle and not even Neptune could see how that had happened.

Neptune was shocked to see his nephew, Mars appear over the hill and give out a quest. He was less shocked to see Percy not show him respect. The sea did not like to be restrained and nor did it like to take orders. As his nephew’s image disappeared after giving the quest, Neptune waited for the inevitable confrontation.

“Hail Uncle. We have not seen you in a while.” Mar spoke as he appeared on the hill with Neptune.

“I have been napping.” Neptune stated answering the unasked question.

“I would be careful with such activities uncle.” Mars spoke with a grin. “I have heard tale of at least one god napping their way into fading.”

“Bah! The mortals still know of me and the ones that know still fear my wrath. I do not need to be seen to be felt.” Neptune answered. “Tell me, what news do you have? Why do you give a quest and why do the dead not die?”

“The Earth is rising and her giants with her. Father has passed a motion of noncontact with the demigods in hopes that it will all blow over.” Mars answered like a cadet would answer an instructor. “I see war coming and the camp needs to prepare. They need their eagle back. I also see your son being vital.”

Neptune thought on that for a moment. “You do know he is grecian? I can claim him but he is not truly my son.”

“Of course, uncle. But you have been sleeping and missed much.” Mars spoke. “He is not just Grecian. He is their greatest hero since perhaps Hercules himself. He was even offered godhood.”

“He turned it down?” Neptune asked as he watched his son leave with the newly revealed child of Mars. Neptune had been nearly sure by the end of the battle that this was a god forced into a mortal body.

“The boy did. Gave it up for the rights and protection of other Greek demigods.” Mars answered almost proudly. Neptune knew if there was one thing Mars could appreciate, it was a commander looking out for his troops. Part of his more militarily minded side was an appreciation for good leadership.

Neptune knew there was something more going on with Percy. His child was too strong to be a mere demigod. Usually when demigods got that strong they started to look for fires to throw themselves on, whether it was their nature calling to them to do so or others giving them ways to alleviate the pain none knew. For Percy to be strong enough that his essence was spreading to those he considered allies and actively be protecting them and not to be in pain from it, something else must be happening.

“Very well nephew. I will not interfere with the quest but don’t be surprised if I watch it. This is my first child I have seen in a while. I am interested in his progress.” Neptune spoke back to Mars.

Mars nodded and disappeared with a red glow. The lord of the seas looked out at Percy from a distance as the hero got ready for bed. Neptune supposed that this boy would do as his son.

But first Neptune had to speak to his older self and find out what exactly was going on.

Neptune now understood what was happening with his son and was now looking for opportunities to help it happen in New Rome.

The Lord of the seas had tracked Percy on his quest and could not have been more proud to claim him. He had proven his good nature in his mentoring of his teammates, he had helped free his half-brother,  and he had proven himself both brave and willing to take chances.

But when the quest had taken them to the Land with no Gods, Neptune had taken the opportunity to ask his older half what was happening with Percy. Poseidon had laughed and shown him the temple, shown him the followers, and the prayers that his son must have been unconsciously answering.

It all made sense. Percy was not yet a god but he would be. At the moment, it looked like he would simply be a Greek god but Neptune was determined to make him more. The lord of fresh waters was determined that his child would be a Byzantine god, one worshipped by both camps. Maybe his own worship would increase as well. After all, a rising tide would lift all boats.

Of course, that was dependent that there was a camp for his son to be worshipped in. As he stood upon a hill and watched over the battles raging across the fields outside New Rome, it was the first time Neptune had felt the pull to defend the romans. As if feeling his uncle’s wish to help, Mars appeared beside him.

“We can not uncle.” Mars stated bluntly and solemnly, “As much as I wish to be down there giving blessings or even helping command, Father has given his decree.”

Neptune looked at his nephew. He knew this must be killing the younger god to not be able to give the legion help when it so clearly needed it. Neptune nodded at his nephew but said nothing. Both gods watched as the legion struggled and it pained them. But then they both looked to the entrance way to the valley as they felt a presence rapidly approaching.

Riding down the hill, on the back of a hellhound no less and holding the standard of the legion, the son of Neptune came. He and his fellow questers bee lined for their cohort. Both gods could see when Percy saw the cohort and their dire circumstances, because they felt from across the battlefield as the son of the seas presence spread and the entire cohort was covered in a light blue glow. Suddenly none of the fifth cohort was falling and as the last of the cyclops that had been attacking them fell and that glow dimmed, Neptune heard Mars speak.

“What was that?” Mars asked softly. “Who did that?”

Neptune smiled and looked at his nephew.

“That was Percy” Neptune replied confidently “and it is the beginning of a new god.”

They held each other’s eyes for a long moment, Neptune challenging Mars quietly to refute him. The stare down broke when they heard the Giant yell. Even from here Neptune could barely stand to look at him and had to fight every instinct to help smite him down. By now though, that soft blue glow had spread to nearly everyone in the entire legion and the losses being taken had fallen to near zero.

Then his son yelled out while holding the standard aloft and an entire storm worth of lightning branched from it, killing hundreds of monsters.

“He shouldn’t have been able to do that.” Mars stated in confusion “Usually only a son of my father can channel it like that. Nor should it have missed all of the others from the legion.”

“That’s because it wasn’t my brothers’ power.” Neptune said through a smug smile. “The boy channeled his own through it, whether he knows it or not.”

Mars only shook his head as they both watched Percy attack Polybotes. The attacks and wounds Percy was leaving on the giant were lasting longer than they should if he were a mere mortal, but it was obvious that he alone could not kill the Giant, the duality within him not enough to count as a god and a demigod. Both gods applauded as he used the head of the boundary god as a weapon to kill the Giant and watched with smiles on their face as the legion called for him to be made praetor.

 But both also heard the whispers of Deus, God, from some of the fifth cohort and some of the spirits.

“Already it begins nephew” Neptune said proudly, “If Junos plan comes to fruition and both camps come together, it won’t be long before the stories spread, and he is deified in this camp as well as the other. They will all fall under his protection.”

Mars looked up from his thoughts, “He is a protector god?” the younger god asked.

“Protection, Loyalty, Forgiveness”, Neptune started followed by a chuckle “And storms and riptides of course.”

Mars looked back at his uncle and then to Percy riding upon his fellow legionaries’ shoulders. For a long moment, the god of war was silent before nodding.

“Rome can always use more protectors and the legion needs everything it can get.” the first protector of Rome stated before turning back to his uncle. “Father won’t be happy, but he need not know yet. Farewell uncle, I must give my report to father.”

“Farewell nephew.”  Neptune replied, as Mars disappeared.

Neptune enjoyed the next few days as his temple was cleaned at his son’s order and the lord of the seas got to enjoy watching his son in his natural role of a leader working to get camp Jupiter ready for the Greek delegation.

Neptune was mid laugh enjoying the scene of Percy blushing and trying to pull the son of Jupiter back to his feet after the other boy had called him his lord and dropped to his knees in prayer when a shot rang out from the ship up above, a cannon ball impacted the camp and a headache split Neptune in half.

Chapter Text

Dakota had never tasted like Percy Jackson.

The Son of Bacchus had learned early on that he could taste the energy of other demigods. Every demigod tasted different and even the legacy carried a hint of a taste. When too many were gathered it could overwhelm his palate which was why he took up drinking something as overly saccharine as Kool-Aid. But when he could get them alone, Dakota could learn their flavor and big three children always stood out more.

Jason Grace had tasted like mountain dew, sharp, electric, and the hint of chaotic energy. Hazel tasted like old southern sweet tea that had been left out too long. Nico tasted like what Dakota could only describe as a lonely drunkard’s beer with tears in it, sad, melancholic, and salty.

Percy tasted like water. He thought it would be salt water but no. Percy tasted like fresh water. Percy tasted like a cold glass of water after a long day in the sun. Percy tasted like the crispest and most refreshing water Dakota had ever tasted, washing away all of the other tastes around him. That level of relief on his sense scared Dakota and he had to take a long swig of his flask to try and hide that flavor.

Dakota had felt and seen greatness before.

He had watched and interacted with Reyna as she climbed the ranks and earned her position of Pretor. He had watched her come from nothing to become the leader of the entire legion. Dakota had been part of the battle in which they took Mount Othrys and watched as Jason engage the Titan Krios himself.

But as Dakota watched the water pipes burst at Percy’s mere look and heeded the call from Frank to attack, he had a realization. He had seen Jason summon lightning before. It had helped in the battle against the Titan. But Dakota remembered the son of Jupiter praying for his father’s help.

Percy seemed to pray to no one.

Indeed, the son of Neptune seemed to not even care to show respect to the gods. When Mars had appeared before the legion, Dakota watched with rapt horror as Percy had the audacity to not only call the god by his Grecias name but to also claim to have fought the god. He thought he was about to see the probatio get ran through by a boar or just shot by the gun the god of war was carrying. Instead, the god of war had laughed. It was only after being almost forcefully dragged down that Percy had been made to kneel.

That moment left Dakota confused over the next coming days.

How had Percy gotten away with it? Why had the god of war taken the disrespect and laughed? Everything Dakota had been taught about the gods through all of the stories was that they were to be revered and feared. Every story about a mortal trying to stand on the same footing as the gods ended badly for the mortal. So what was different about Percy?

Dakota finally figured it out days later. When he watched Percy ride in upon a golden chariot carrying weapons while commanding a cyclops and a hellhound, the idea started to take shape. When he felt a wave of safety wash over him at Percys battle cry and swore he saw outlines of blue surround him and his cohort, the idea became clearer. When Percy used the legion standard to kill hundreds of monsters in one go, the idea started to gain traction. When Percy killed a giant almost single handedly, the idea took off.

When many of his fellow legionaries were lifting the son of Neptune and shouting “Pretor”, Dakota was thinking ‘Deus’. And as he looked around, he caught the eye of many from the Fifth cohort who all seem to be thinking the same.

Either Percy was already a god or he was about to become one.

When Jason Grace had shown up the next day and knelt before Percy, it had felt like vindication. In spite of the fact that Percy had tried to deny it, here was their former pretor confirming the conclusion his former cohort had come to. The son of Neptune was a god with followers.

Dakota wanted to talk to Jason and learn more about his new god.

It was obvious that the Greeks had known about Percy for a while if they were already worshiping him to such an extent that Jason was ready to kneel upon seeing him. Let it never be said that the romans would not keep up in their devotion to the gods they found important and to the fifth cohort, Percy Jackson was very important. He was a god they could lay claim to. He brought them honor. He brought them protection. He brought them glory.

Dakota found it unfortunate that he never got the chance to pull Jason aside before the ship fired upon the camp and the whirlwind of activity took off.

When the other cohorts started calling for the blood of their new god, the fifth cohort knew they had to go quiet on their worship. The shrine that had started to be made in the barracks was not destroyed but moved so it could not be seen. They hid it near Neptune’s shrine out of the way where they thought no one would look. They took inspirations from the Christians and made a symbol that they could have that would not look out of place. A tri-tipped lightning bolt. Others would see it as Jupiter. The ones in the know knew it was the spawning of lighting from the legion standard. The ultimate act of protection from the protector god himself.

Dakota had volunteered to help lead the search for the ship and so he was one of the few at Fort Sumpter ahead of the other legionaries when they caught up. He had managed to work it so he could get Jason alone so he could ask his questions.

“Tell me Jason,” Dakota spoke while holding his spear and facing the son of Jupiter “What is the name of the followers of your god.”

Jason looked at him confused before a look of clarity seemed to come over him.

“We are the Children of Percy, the Loyal one, the Merciful one, the Protector.” Jason spoke with confidence.

A child of Percy. A chill ran up Dakota’s spine at the mere thought. Yes. That name felt right.

The son of Bacchus smiled at his former Pretor. “Come Jason.” He spoke softly with near childish glee “Let’s play pretend.”

As Jason yelled an apology and brought his sword butt to the back of Dakota’s head, the centurion was happy to have a name to take back to his cohort. They were the children of Percy.

The water on his tongue tasted amazing.

Chapter Text

Jason was having a religious crisis of faith.

As his memories of his life before getting taken by Juno were coming back, Jason had started to notice the differences in the two camps, of which there were many. Where Camp Jupiter was strict and rigged with rules and discipline, Camp Half-Blood seemed to feel more flexible and the campers got away with a lot more mischief. Where the Roman camp preached and practiced large scale formations and battle tactics, the Greeks seem to put more emphasis on individual skill and small group skirmishes. With the legion, although it could get you placed in a “better” cohort, your godly parent or ancestor did not often decide much about your career. With the Greeks, it was everything. Who you ate with, who you trained with, what you trained in, where you slept and even what team you were on in the camp games was all decided based off your bloodline. Even if you didn’t know who your parent was and they hadn’t claimed you yet, that still decided much of your time at the camp.

But the biggest difference was the gods. Not their names, but how they were worshiped.

At Camp Jupiter, the gods were celebrated. Great temples were built to them and their tales recounted on the holidays honoring them. Those holidays were often accompanied by great feasts and spectacles. But even on days that were not meant for honoring the gods, Jason remembered kneeling in his fathers and step mother’s temples and praying. He had found comfort in the repetition of the action and often found clarity of mind when praying. The Romans in general had found the Gods as something to be revered first and feared second.

The Greeks at Camp Half-Blood were backwards in that. While yes, they did do regular sacrifices, they did it out of what seemed to be a social custom than any real want to please the gods or celebrate them. Most of the Campers seemed to want absolutely nothing to do with the gods. They seemed to fear them and did not wish to draw their attention. When Jason had come back from his quest with some of his memories coming back, he had realized that there didn’t seem to be any temples or altars or really any place to pray.

Except for one.

When he had heard of the temple to Percy on the beach, he did not know whether to be relieved to at least have some form of worship to partake in or insulted that these Greeks were doing something as blasphemous as trying to raise one of their own up to the level of the gods. Perhaps he had been itching for a fight when he had gone there. He had not expected to be manhandled, given a cookie (blue for some reason), and told to pray. He had figured he would humor the son of Merc- Hermes and done as he had asked.

When the blessing came, it felt like nothing he had ever experienced.

Jason was used to praying for help from his Father or praying in thanks to the help that was given. Praying to Jupiter always felt like being analyzed, like his father was looking for any hesitation or any reason to not give him the help requested. Jason was used to praying to Juno as thanks for not treating him like she had many of the sons of his father and setting him up to fail or die horribly. Praying to Juno made him feel like he was young and looking for approval from his centurion again but not sure if he had done a good enough job.

When he felt the blessing of Percy being placed onto him, he instantly realized why they called themselves the Children of Percy. It felt like a hug. It felt like a blanket being wrapped around him. It felt like what he could only assume being held protectively by a parent felt like. It felt like nothing he had ever remembered feeling before.

It had nearly broken him to tears. When it faded, it had.

Jason had leaned against the chest of Travis and cried silently as the Greek told him the story of how Percy had come to camp. When Piper found them there, she had looked angry at first, but when Jason had explained it to her, she had just looked sad and sat with him as Travis told them about Percy’s journey into the Sea of Monsters.

Over the next several months, Jason had fallen back into the familiar practice of what he could remember from his days at the Roman camp. Practice, Prepare and Pray. He had heard all of the stories of his new god and learned them all by heart. When they finally took off in the Argo II, besides the nervousness he felt from the prospect of returning to Camp Jupiter and the unease he felt at the journey ahead of them, he was also giddy to meet Percy and bask in his glory directly.

This is where his crisis of faith was coming from.

He had been warned by head priest Malcolm that Percy would deny his godhood. He had been told by the Stoll twins that he would need to keep his faith strong in the face of adversity. Jason had even been warned by Annabeth to not embarrass Percy with “the whole Children thing” as she put it.

But when Jason had knelt before Percy and started to ask for his continued blessing, he truly did not expect the Protector to go red in embarrassment and quickly pull him to his feet. He had only assumed that the Loyal one was trying to keep his greatness a secret so that the Romans around them at the time did not perceive him as a threat. Jason decided to play along.

But when he questioned Frank in Charleston about what had happened to the Camp while he had been gone and had heard about what Percy had done, it was obvious this was not the case. This was confirmed even more so when his former Cohort 5 friend had asked for a name to give the new Roman followers of the Wielder of Riptides.

When they had made it out onto the Atlantic, Jason had found a moment of peace to pray to his god at the small shrine he had set up in the bowls of the ship. No one else knew about it besides Leo and Jason had bribed him to stay silent about it. As he finished his prayer and was tossing a small cookie onto his fire, he saw the Loyal one round the corner, see him and start moving towards the son of Jupiter.

“Look dude—What are you doing?” Percy asked

“I was praying.” Jason said quickly followed by “to you my lord”

“ Ugh.” The son of Poseidon sighed “Annabeth told me we should have had this conversation earlier.”

Jason must have had a confused look on his face as the Protector quickly approached him. As Jason knelt and looked up at his god, he felt that familiar feeling from his first blessing wash over him. But the words his god was speaking were in sharp contrast to that feeling.

“I told Malcolm and I am going to tell you. I am not a god!” Percy said firmly. “If you want to waste time worshipping me, that’s your problem. But if we are going to be on the same team and living in the same spaces, I need you to not do it while I am around. It freaks me out okay.”

With that, Jason’s god turned around and started to walk away muttering something about crazy people under his breath and taking with him the feeling of his blessing.

The juxtaposition of feeling his god’s protection and care but hearing his god deny him left Jason confused.

The son of Jupiter carried this confusion with him as he and Piper confronted Heracles. After royally pissing of the god from simply mentioning Juno, the son of Jupiter was turning to leave with his girlfriend when inspiration struck him. Here was a being that had gone from mortal to god. Who else would be better to ask besides maybe Baccus.

“Do you feel when we pray to you? “Jason asked. Piper stopped and looked back at him with confusion on her face.

Heracles looked confused as well at the question but answered anyways. “Not always but often yeah.”

“What does it feel like?” Jason pressed while Piper looked at him like he had grown a third head.

Heracles was starting to look less confused now and more annoyed now. “Like a buzzing in the back of my head. Don’t you have a river god to go fight?”

“Can you tell where we are praying to you from?” Jason pressed on in his questions, ignoring Piper pulling at his hand.

Heracles looked very annoyed now. “Yes! Now go before I decide to forget everything and just start chucking things at that ship until it sinks!”

Jason left this time, a deep feeling of satisfaction in his stomach.

When they finally got back on the Argo and fled a rock chucking Heracles, Jason found Percy before the son of Jupiter went to rest.

“My lord.” Jason said, watching as the Protector’s head whipped around to look at him.

“Dude! I told you to knock it off with that.” The son of Poseidon said with annoyance in his voice. “Also, shouldn’t you be going to rest? I can’t hold the fort up here forever.”

“How did you know where to find me earlier?” Jason asked. “Did Leo tell you about that spot?”

“No. Leo didn’t tell me.” The Hurricane Rider answered looking both confused and uncomfortable with the question “I just kind of had a feeling.”

At that statement Jason felt something click in his brain. The son of Jupiter smiled, bowed (much to his god’s annoyance), and went down to rest. As he closed his eyes to drift to the land of Hypnos, Jason knew his crisis of faith was over. It was not that his god did not want him or that his god was not real. It was that his god was new and still finding himself.

A new god was something that Jason could work with.

Chapter Text

Piper had never been religious. She had never seen the point.

Sure, she had listened to her grandpa Tom tell her about the animal spirits and other Cherokee stories. She had listened to her father tell her about the Greek myths. Heck, she had even absorbed some of the Christian stories just by living the U.S. But none of them had ever seemed to click with her. Even now with finding out her mom was literally a Goddess, those stories seemed less like religion and more like family drama. She had never felt the need or want to pray to any of the Gods.

Not like how Jason seemed to.

Jason seemed drawn to it. Not even a week back from their quest, when all she wanted to do was rest, prepare and spend time with her boyfriend, Jason went off and found the worst kept secret in all of camp Half-Blood in the form of an altar to Percy Jackson. She had heard whispers about it and seen some of her siblings going off to the beach at random times but didn’t really care to look into it. She didn’t even pray to her mother regularly. No way she was praying to some guy she had barely heard of and never met.

But a few days after returning from the quest that was where she found Jason. At the altar and in a deep hug with Travis Stoll.

At first, she was angry. Of course, she knew all about Zeus and his many affairs and of Hercules and his wandering eyes. Considering that most of her memories with Jason were built off of a lie and false memories, she shouldn’t have been surprised to find him moving on quickly but the least she could have gotten was a warning.

But when Jason had turned and she saw the tears in his eyes, Piper had realized this wasn’t a loving hug but a consoling one. Before the daughter of love could even ask what was wrong, her boyfriend had latched onto her and sobbed into her shoulder. When Piper had looked at Travis in a panic, the son of Hermes had simply stated that he had been blessed by the Protector. As more campers came into the temple and Travis started telling a story about his god, Jason babbled on about “Feeling him”.

When Piper had finally gotten his face off her shoulder and taken a look at him, she had two realizations. Looking into his still tear-filled blue eyes, she realized that Jason was an ugly crier. But she also realized what this felt like. It felt like looking at her dad when he had refused to talk about her mom.

If this is what religion did, then Piper wanted no part of it.

So the daughter of Aphrodite had thrown herself into training and getting better with her charmspeak. But occasionally she would allow Jason to drag her out to the temple on the beach or go looking for him there. It felt like she could not avoid the stories of Percy. Nor could she avoid all of his names. People would say things like “The protector watch over you” or “go with the riptide.” Honestly, she thought the only one more annoyed with it than her was Annabeth, who people had taken to treating like she was a princess.

However, the one that annoyed Piper the most was “the Loyal one.”

Piper didn’t believe in loyalty. She wanted to. Oh gods did she want to believe in it.

She had seen the outcome of disloyalty firsthand. Piper had seen the scars it left on her father. The daughter of Aphrodite had seen the way her mother leaving without a word had broken him. Even Piper bore scars from the knock-on effects. Looking around the camp you could still see the physical scars on campers who fought in a war caused by disloyalty.

Piper wanted to believe in loyalty but she had read all the stories. Odysseus had cheated on Penelope, Hercules had cheated on his wife, Jason (the original) had abandoned Medea, and the gods were no better. Her own mother made a game out of making people fall in love only to break them. Not to mention that most of the children of the camp were born from some sort of disloyalty.

There was no true Greek god of loyalty for a reason. The concept did not exist.

Though she never said it aloud, Jason did pick up on her distaste in his need for prayer eventually. They never fought over it but it did cause some tension. Before they knew it though, they were climbing on the Argo 2, off to go find Percy and stop the Giants.

If he wanted Piper’s worship, the “Loyal one” would have to prove himself worthy of that name.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking at Jason kneeling in prayer in the bowls of the Argo 2, Piper realized that she was going to have to join him.

The Loyal one had proven himself after all.

Her first tell should have been from how trusting Annabeth was with Percy. This was not a normal relationship level of trust. This was attacking him in a city armed to the teeth knowing he will keep her safe trust. This was throwing her dagger into the ocean with certainty that he will appear to hand it back to her trust. This was picking up on his play against the pirates and running with it instantly trust.

Seeing Annabeth put trust into Percy and seeing him step up to the plate each and every time had shaken her resolve to just see him as a normal demigod. That resolve should have been strengthened simply by looking at Hercules, but that was counterbalanced by the trust Percy had shown to Annabeth. Piper didn’t think she could have let Jason run off chasing something known to have killed his siblings on his own. Loyalty was a two way street after all.

But Percy trusted Annabeth.

Her second tell should have been when she was watching Percy fight alongside Jason. As they worked together to out flank and fight the Giants, she watched as a blue glow seemed to envelop Jason. Whether or not the boys realized it, Piper didn’t know but it looked like Jason was being shielded and every time a blow would come his way, Percy seemed ready to deflect. They looked like they had fought together for years and hadn’t just met barely a week ago.

Jason trusted in Percy and Percy did not let him down.

Nico looked confused at this development, but Piper saw Bacchus look on with peaked interest. The god looked almost confused when the giants did not die to their combined blade.

“I wonder why?” the wine god mused to himself.

Before Piper could ask what he meant, he had already teleported down to the field. After Bacchus had turned the Giants to dust he had taken a long look at Percy before giving them where Annabeth was.

Of course, it was there the Loyal one proved himself worthy of his title.

When Hazel had told her of what Percy had done, Piper had felt the last bit of her resolve to just see Percy as a normal demigod crumble. She could not think of a more loyal act. He had refused to be separated from Annabeth again and had literally gone to Hell for her. Whether Loyalty existed or not, Piper could respect that.

Jason had taken the news hard and had asked Nico if Percy told them to do anything with a desperation that seemed to shock the pale kid. When he was told where they needed to go, Jason nodded and told Leo he needed to hold down the fort for a while so Jason could go below.

Piper knew where he was going. Jason might have thought his altar was hidden but she knew exactly where to find him.

As she knelt down next to Jason, he looked up in confusion.

“Teach me some prayers.” Piper requested. Jason turned back to the tiny fire staring into it as if it would tell him something.

“Piper. You don’t believe.” The son of Jupiter said in a whisper, as if afraid his god would hear him. “I know you want to make me feel better, but I don’t want to make you pray just to do so.”

“Maybe I don’t fully believe.” The child of Aphrodite said before laying her hand on his cheek and turning his face towards her, “But you do. This is important to you. So, it’s important to me too.”

Jason’s face scrunched up a bit before he hugged her and started crying into her shoulder. It was that same body racking ugly cry. Piper rubbed his back and tossed a small cookie Jason had still had in his hand onto the fire and for the first time in a long time she prayed.

The child of love prayed to the Loyal one for strength to carry them both, if only for a little while.

Chapter Text

Bob didn’t like to remember. It’s what made him like working in the House of Hades.

Ever since he bathed in the river and his good friend Percy saved him, Bob had been working as a janitor. Most of the others in the House just ignored him and that suited Bob just fine. While he didn’t mind seeing the Lady of the house, seeing her husband or her mother always started an itch in his brain that he didn’t like. He could still hear them if he didn’t try to push their voices out but that didn’t seem to affect his brain as much as seeing them. Which was good considering how often he was called upon to clean up this mess or that mess.

There was one member of the house that Bob enjoyed the company of. The young child of Hades by the name of Nico.

Nico often spoke to Bob, primarily about his friend Percy but also about his two sisters. The young boy would tell him of adventures he had in a hotel (whatever that was) or tell him of some adventures of Percy. Nico would get red often when speaking of Bob’s friend and Bob thought that was adorable though he did not know why. But these stories also seemed to sadden the Ghost king, as some of the shades in the house would call him.  Nico seemed to carry a great sadness in him which Bob would try to clean up by showing him tricks he could do with his broom. Sometimes it worked. Sometimes it scared him. But usually it would just distract the young man and they would move the topic to something else.

Yes, Bob enjoyed talking to Nico and the feeling being around the young boy gave him.

Nico felt different to Bob than anyone else in the House. The gods felt like rough metal cords. They were too tightly wound and too large for him to actually hold without falling over and hurting himself. Bob could not see the beginning or end of the cords. There were too many and too tangled. The shades felt like cut thread. It felt like Bob could just barely touch the end of it but could never actually grab a hold of it. Bob had almost tried the first time he had met one, thinking that it was an injury similar to that his good friend Percy had had when they met but Hades had stopped him before he could do so. He had been told that was not his job anymore, which had confused Bob as his only job had been as a janitor (the itching feeling had returned and Bob stopped asking questions).

Nico was like a shawl still being woven to Bob. It was soft, delicate and beautiful. It was quite long already but Bob could not quite tell where it was beginning. Bob assumed it had something to do with Nico still being alive.

Of course, the last time Bob had seen Nico he was running around the underworld looking for something. But before the young boy had run off, he had told Bob to be on the listen for his name as he might be needed later. So Bob waited and listened. But when he heard his name, it was not Nico saying it. It was Percy. Bob did not know how Percy had made it into Bob’s hearing range but was excited to go and help his friend.

Bob Hoped his friend would remember him.

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Iapetus- no.  Bob remembered a lot more now. Far too much if you asked him.

As he had journeyed with his friend Percy and Percy’s more than a friend (spouse? Betrothed? Bob did not know) Annabeth, Bob had had that itching sensation return from the very beginning, right when he landed in Tartarus. Only now it felt more like a rubbing sensation. The Titan had started to remember things that he could not pinpoint why. Bob had known where to find the Hermes shrine and that the two younger humans would be safe there to rest for a little while. He had caught up with his friend Percy on some of his adventures and told him where the two needed to go.  He did not mention that Percy had not slept while Annabeth wrote her letter. She had just finished telling someone to tell the other children to play nice when Bob had heard familiar voices. Angry voices. Bob had made a mental note to ask Percy about his new offspring while ushering the two away from the shrine.

It was only now Bob had realized he had not done that. The thought had slipped his mind when he had come across the Pod with his brother in it.

If seeing Hades had been an itching sensation and walking in Tartarus had been a rubbing one, seeing Hyperion had been like taking a sander to his memories. He started to remember his old life, who he had been before the river.  So much had started to come back all at once and it had quickly been becoming overwhelming for the Titan. He was lucky to have Percy there to remind him of who he truly was. Of all the Titans, Bob was the only one that was good. It was only later, when in the company of his younger half-brother, did he understand perhaps why he was the good one.

Feeling the change in Percy helped him in that regard.

Bob remembered how Percy had felt when he had first met him. Fittingly he had felt very much like Annabeth. They both had the rough-hewn feeling of a battle flag. But where Annabeth felt like a properly pressed flag you would find over a general’s tent or being held a loft beside them on a battlefield, Percy had felt like a flag soaked, damp and heavy. Soaked in what, Bob could not tell. Blood. Ichor. Water. It didn’t really matter. What mattered was that it was the flag of a soldier dropped to do battle, to fight for something greater than himself.

But that flag was changing.

Bob had noticed it when he first came across the two demigods but had dismissed it as not remembering correctly. But even in the time that he had been with them, Percy’s flag grew more unholdable, wound itself tighter, and started to feel more metallic. It had nearly doubled a little while after Annabeth had sent her letter and Bob worried. He did not know why he worried but something inside of him worried that if it became too large, Percy would not last. With his memories more restored, Bob had realized what these feelings were while in his brother’s hut.

They were mortality.

Bob was the good Titan because he could connect with mortals in a way that others like him could not. Bob could feel their life and see the patterns in it that the other titans could not. The fabrics he felt were their stories, their loves, their pain, and even their death.   

They were tales of mortality and Percy was quickly out growing his.

It had been more apparent that if the two young half-bloods were to use the Death Mist, then they would need to hurry. Bob had not known how Percy was outgrowing his mortality but Bob knew that if he out grew it too much then the mist would not work on him. Luckily Percy seemed to somehow be fighting the change. The young man would look at Annabeth and the flag would uncurl itself, just a little, and then fold itself. It gave Bob hope that they would get the two of them out of the Pit but he did not know how many times Percy's mortality could fold itself.

How much the flag had grown when they met back up had did not worry Bob as Much as how it had grown

It had not grown in the same pattern it had before. It had torn and frayed itself. Where as before Percy's mortality seemed like it would have simply grown to be too large to fold back, now there were tightly wound ribbons at the end from where the flag looked like it had been torn at with a knife. But there was hope as whatever force that had been growing Percy's mortality seemed to have turned its focus to fixing it before making it larger again.

As Bob took his finger off of the button to send the elevator up, Bob hoped it would fully fix itself.

As Bob turned to face Tartarus, Bob hoped that Percy and Annabeth made it back to their children.

Bob hoped they remembered him as the Good titan or at least the redeemed one.

Bob hoped Percy remembered him when his tale grew too large to hold.   

Chapter Text

If Frank was going to be honest, the best part about Percy and Annabeth coming back was that it calmed Jason down.

For those 3 weeks, Jason seemed to push himself to the brink. Frank had seen him fight off venti after venti after rock thrown by mountain gods. He was always wanting to be the one to go down to do the mission. The only reason the son of Jupiter hadn’t gone down in Venice was because there were active Venti threats around them. The former praetor had only gotten more intense when they had lost Leo to the snow goddess, taking it upon himself to be the one to negotiate to the southern wind god. By the time they actually made it to the House of Hades, Jason had run himself ragged. Seeing someone held as one of the best demigods to come out of camp Jupiter, someone who Frank had heard story after story about from the legionaries in Cohort 5 kind of scared Frank if he was to be honest.

But that was not the worst part. The worst part was the tears and prayers.

Frank learned very quickly where he could find Jason when he was needed. Piper had shown Frank and Hazel the shrine that was in the depths of the ship. At first, the son of Mars was confused. He did not know who Jason could be praying to. They all knew that the gods were incapacitated due to the Greek and Roman conflict still happening back at home. Gods, Frank was having one of those splits literally play out in his head at the time. When Frank had tried to ask Jason who he was praying to, the son of Jupiter had looked up at him and Frank realized that the older boy was crying.

“I am praying to the Protector.” Jason said through tears, “I am praying to Percy, for strength and convictions and for his speedy return.”

To say Frank had been confused was an understatement. His befuddlement was only layered upon by hearing Hazel softly say “I knew it! He is a God!” Frank almost strained his neck whipping around to look at her. But before the Son of Mars could say anything, Hazel had already knelt next to Jason and was asking him about methods of prayers and stories. Frank turned to Piper to get some form of clarification only to find her moving to kneel next to Jason as well. The son of Mars took that his cue to back out of the room… only to run back in when he remembered that he came looking for Jason because of a Venti attacking the ship.

When Frank finally did get Hazel alone, he had many questions.

“Why would you worship Percy?” Frank asked one night when both were on deck. Leo had been forced to sleep by Coach so it was just the two demigods and a grumpy satyr more preoccupied by some photo. “Isn’t he just a normal dude? Yeah, he strong but a god Hazel?”

Hazel looked at him with her eyes like gold and smiled a smile at him that he recognized. This was the smile he got when he did something or said something she found humorously wrong.

“You know, I forget how new you are to this world. I’ve only been in this time period for a year but you have only been aware of the gods for a couple months.” The daughter of Pluto said. “No Frank. Percy is not just strong. He’s more than that. He as an aura around him. I thought he was a god when I first saw him. Not to mention that the other gods just seem to flock to him. Two Olympians acknowledging him within 24 hours of him being at the camp when I never saw one of them for the entire year I was there. Heck, I think between our two quests, we have seen more gods than the entire legion has seen in decades. That’s not even mentioning the thing that happened at the battle.”

Again, she confused Frank. “What thing that happened at the battle?” the son of Mars asked. All Frank remembered of the battle was the charge and shifting form a lot. Once he was in with the legionaries everything kind of got muddled into all the action.

Hazel smiled that smile at him again. “You were in the middle of everything. I had a great view from upon Arion. The entire legion was covered in a soft blue glow. Arrows that should have hit missed. Strikes that should have clubbed a legionnaire to death went wide. Everyone was protected and it all came from Percy. That’s not the work of a demigod Frank. That’s the work of a protector god.”

Frank didn’t know what to say to that so he just let the silence hang in the air.

Of course, the worst part about Percy and Annabeth coming back was the fight.

He still didn’t know what to say by the time they finally got Percy and Annabeth back. He just stayed silent and watched as Jason broke down crying on his knees while holding Percys hand to his forehead whispering soft prayers of gratitude. But as much as Percy looked uncomfortable with it, Leo looked just as angry.

“ Oh Just stop it!” the son of Hephaestus shouted at Jason. “He’s not a god! He’s just a guy who can’t keep his promises.”

Frank saw Percy flinch at that jab and was confused. “But Percy did keep his promise. He promised that he would meet us here to close the doors and he did.” The son of Mars stated.

Leo scoffed at that. “Of course he met us here. Because it benefited him.” Leo spat out “But as soon as it doesn’t benefit him to help you, he forgets his promises. Just ask Calypso. He no longer needed or wanted her, so he forgot to help her.”

Percy looked hurt. Annabeth looked upset. Nico looked tired. But Jason… Jason looked pissed.

Frank watched as the son of Jupiter stormed up to the younger boy and get right in his face before growling out a low “Shut up, Valdez.”

“As a matter of fact, maybe he is a god.” Leo just continued on like there wasn’t an angry storm right in his face. “Because he treated her just like how the gods use to treat us. A disposable plaything forgotten when no longer useful.”

By the end, Percy was looking at the floor and it looked to Frank like was trying to stop from crying.

“I SAID SHUT UP MATCHSTICK!” Jason screamed as he shoved Leo to the floor, waves of righteous anger rolling off of him like ozone.

“Make me,” Leo spat back as he stood up and ignited his hand, “Flyboy!”

As the two demigods moved to come to blows, Frank started to try and intercept the two of them but didn’t get far.

“ENOUGH” a deep voice boomed. The word reverberated around Frank’s chest and dropped him to his knees. It felt powerful and it must have been as all of the others besides Annabeth had also dropped. Well, her and Percy from whom the voice had sounded.

Frank didn’t know how he had got there but Percy now stood between Leo and Jason looking at both with what Frank could only call disappointment.

“Enough.” Percy repeated quietly before turning to the son of Jupiter “Jason. I appreciate your loyalty, but I do not need you to fight my battles. Nor am I infallible. I made many mistakes.”

If Frank could describe Percy in that moment, the word would be haunted. The son of the war god did not know what he had gone through in Tartarus, but it had clearly deeply affected the son of Poseidon. Frank saw Annabeth put her hand on Percy’s back and give him a reassuring smile.

“My lord.” Jason whined up to Percy, stopping when his god bade him to do so with his hand. At this Percy turned back to Leo, who was still shockingly on his knees but was now glaring up at the older boy.

“Leo.” Percy began taking the glare being thrown by the Hispanic boy head on. “You’re right.”

The shock was evident on the face of Leo. Frank wished he had a camera in that moment. It would have been comical if this wasn’t such a serious moment.

“In the fallout of the Titan war, I trusted my father and the other Olympians to hold to their oaths and free Calypso,” Percy continued without his face even twitching. “But I should have double checked. I failed to keep my promise because I believed the gods would do as they swore to do. I will not do so again. I promise… no. I swear to you now that when this is over and we have won, I will make sure she is freed.”

Frank saw the anger in Leo leave his body and his head sag down.

“You know you make it really hard to hate you when you act like such a stand-up dude.” Leo said with a chuckle. “I’m going to hold you to that oath.”

Percy smiled before holding out a hand to the smaller boy. “Good. I want you to.”

It was all smiles on the ship after that but Frank could tell what had just happened and the accusations thrown at him by Leo still weighed on Percy. Heck, Frank was willing to bet that it would weigh on everyone. But at least it was good to have the whole team back together.

Frank knew the prayers would still continue. But at least the tears were dried.

Chapter Text

Frank still didn’t get the whole god thing.

Maybe Hazel was right and Frank was still too new to this world to get it. He had grown up with stories of them sure but at the time they seemed like just that. Stories. Frank had grown up with stories from his grandma of dragons and monkey kings in equal measure to those of gods and goddesses. He had always thought that they were the means by which she was trying to teach him the morals she wanted him to have.

Of course, now he knew she had been trying to teach him about both sides of his heritage. But it didn’t change the fact that he was still getting use to the gods being real.

 He had only met a few of them but from the stories he had heard around the camp in his six weeks there, it seemed like even that was a lot for the Romans. Of course, of the gods he had met, most of them hadn’t seemed that impressive. Terminus was just a talking statue really, Iris seemed like she had been taken right out of a 70s hippy camp and Trip… well Trip was kind of crazy. Frank can’t really blame him considering all he had wanted to do was to go around and help people farm for a couple thousand years and had been stuck in one place but it still needed to be said. None of them had really inspired worship in him though.

His dad though… well Mars was a different story.

Mars had a presence about him that the other gods had not. Marely the god of war appearing on that him had made him want to polish his non-existent shield and put on his parade uniform. Mars was a military commander and for Frank to be praised by him would have felt like the biggest honor let alone being claimed as his son. Though the feeling would later dissipate, and he did not know if he would ever feel it again after having his dad argue with himself in Frank’s head, Frank remembered being compelled to kneel and salute in his father’s presence. He hadn’t been the only one. The entire legion had.

Well all except Percy.

Percy was a puzzle to Frank. At first, Frank just thought that he had balls of steel to stand up to Mars in the camp. Even though Frank hadn’t been there that long, He knew that to tell the god of war that you had fought him before took either a big pair or a small brain. But as they traveled together over the next week, Frank came to realize that Percy was just that good. In the practice siege, before he got his memory back, Percy had seemed to be figuring out what he could do. He fought like he had been doing it since birth but was still surprised his knew how to do it.

But with his memories back? Percy knew exactly what he was doing.

 On the glacier, He was a monster. Tearing through the undead legionaries like they were nothing and forming his own mini hurricane, Percy was terrifying to behold. During the attack on Camp Jupiter, He was inspiring. Watching him channel through the eagle and then defeat the giant meant to be his bane in damn near solo conflict, Frank had known then that he would be the greatest demigod that the son of war would ever see. Percy was just that good.

Staring down at Jason, laying in a cot with a sword wound through his chest, Frank wondered what the difference between good and godly really was.  

When Frank had found out about Jason worshipping Percy, the son of Mars hadn’t really understood. Hazel had tried to explain it to him but none of her explanations had worked for him. Frank had not seen him do anything that he could relate to being godly. Nothing that Percy had done had screamed God to frank in the same manner that his dad had. At least not until Percy had spoken with that voice.  When Percy had spoken that single word, Frank was instantly reminded of his dad and could see why Jason had chosen him as his protector god.

But then Jason had gotten hurt and now Frank was confused.

“You’ve been staring for a while.”

Jason's voice shocked Frank and as he groaned and tried to sit up some, the son of Mars moved quickly to help him. By the time the son of Jupiter was sitting up, he had a light sweat as the movement had strained him some.

“Something on your mind big man?” Jason asked.

Frank looked at the older boy for a second before nodding.  “Do you still think he is a god?” Frank whispered, “Percy I mean.”

Jason looked confused at the question. “Why would I not?”

“Well, I mean you did get stabbed.” Frank pointed out, “He didn’t protect you.”

Jason smiled a wry smile at Frank before responding.

“The Protector doesn’t protect us against things we can handle. Monsters, Ghouls and ghosts. These are things demigods must face for growth. He protects us against things we should not have to face. Titans, Giants and Primordials. Percy did not protect me because he knew I needed to face this to become better. So, he protected what and who he could. Namely you and the ship.” Jason spoke like a teacher explaining a detail a student had missed. “Besides, He sent Annabeth with us to protect us. Her protection is almost as good in his eyes”  

Frank sat silently trying to understand what Jason had said. Something about the concept still wasn’t clicking for him.

“I don’t get it.” Frank admitted, “I get that he is strong but aren’t all you big three demigods?”

Jason was silent for a moment before looking up.

“Listen Frank.” Jason whispered, “Do you hear it? His rage?”

Frank was confused and listened. All he heard was the storm outside. It had been storming since they had left Ithaca.

“Do you mean the storm?” Frank asked

Jason nodded.

“Let me guess. It has been going since I got put back on the ship. High winds? Spinning clouds? But not affecting the ship?” Jason waited for Frank to nod before continuing. “It’s a Hurricane Frank. Those don’t happen in the Mediterranean. I’m betting it hasn’t even caused damage. That is the Protector’s rage Frank. He knew I had to walk this path and that he could not protect all of us from everything. But that does not mean he likes it. Power and Purpose Frank. That’s the difference between him and a demigod Frank. The Hurricane Rider and the Protector. Power and Purpose of a god.”

Power and Purpose. Frank was still thinking about Jason’s words as he disembarked with the others to go and fetch Nike.

Power, Frank knew Percy had in spades. The son of the sea could whip up a storm as easily as he breathed. He handled the sword better than anyone the son of Mars had ever seen. He fought Giants with the same ease that Frank fought a cyclops and had walked through a land that was meant to poison anything that dared to tread on it. But the Purpose part was what Frank was missing. Hazel said she felt it. Jason said he felt it. But Frank hadn’t seen it.

He didn’t even know what it would look like.

Frank was still wondering about this when they had finally found Nike. Seeing her split in two, argue and then come back together was one of the weirdest experiences he could say had ever had. As the goddess laid out her plan to have them fight each other along Greek and Roman lines, Frank had to admit that he was worried. But he saw something in Percy switch on in that moment.

“No.”  Percy spoke, shocking the group as a whole. “I won’t let you force demigods to fight over a task you should be doing anyways.”

The goddess looked at Percy with what Frank could only describe as amusement.

“Oh? And if I-“ Her speech hiccupped as she took the form of Victoria to complete her sentence “ make you fight? Blood must be spilt.”

“How about a different fight?” Percy spoke with confidence “ You and me. One on One to first blood. I win and you come quietly to help us.”

There was silence for a moment as everyone seemed to take in the offer Percy had put out. Frank could hardly believe he was this audacious. Percy was good. Hell, he was great even. But this was victory. The incarnation of the very idea of winning. Before Frank could voice his misgivings, the goddess started to laugh. It was an ugly laugh of someone, like that of a sore winner laughing in the face of someone they had just beat.

“Tell me.” She started before morphing back into Nike “Why would I agree to such a thing?”

Percy smirked before answering. “What? Afraid of losing?”

Balls of STEEL. That was Frank’s only thought. Hazel looked like she was trying to stop herself from laughing but Leo had given up on that endeavor. The smaller son of Hephestus who had been uncharacteristically quiet was now laughing hard. But Nike looked pissed. She shot a glare at him that would send most running.

“Quiet, Worm!” She spat, voice carrying a similar power to what Percy’s had on the ship. Leo fell silent instantly, as a gag appeared in his mouth. The goddess turned back to Percy before smiling a predatory smile. “Very well son of Poseidon. But when you lose, something will be sacrificed to me.”

Percy seemed to hesitate to Frank and the son of war was hoping he was rethinking this whole thing. But then the son of the sea straightened his back, looked the goddess of victory directly in the eye and spoke two words.

“I accept.”

Nike morphed into Victoria at his words, but her predatory smile stayed. “Meet me in the arena.” That was all she said before she took to the air.

Percy looked back at the group and smiled before he started walking. Frank left Hazel to help Leo with his gag and ran to catch up with the son of the sea.

“Are you crazy?” Frank said as he caught up with him. “You can’t fight a goddess.”

“Why not?” Percy spoke with a smile. “I fought and beat your dad.”

“LIAR!”

“CHEATER!”

“KILL HIM!”

“GREEK!”

Frank winced as both sides of his dad screamed in his head. He hadn’t heard them in a while but considering how negatively they reacted Frank had to assume this was a sore spot.  

“But this is Victory!” Frank emphasized “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Percy stopped and looked at Frank. Frank had never really paid attention to the son of the sea’s eyes before. Frank had assumed they were green when he had seen them before. But in this moment, the son of war saw something behind them. Frank saw power in those strangely teal eyes.

“No. I’m not sure.” Percy spoke softly “But something is telling me I need to do this.”

Something about the way that he said that sentence stunned Frank still as Percy continued to the arena. When Hazel and Leo finally caught up, with Leo still gagged, Percy had entered the opening and all three of them had to run to catch up.

By the time they had entered the arena, Victoria was exiting her chariot and Percy was spinning his blade to warm up. As the goddess came to stand across from the son of the sea she morphed back to Nike and along with it her spear had morphed into a sword.

“I shall be polite and allow you the first swing.” Nike spoke, confidence bordering on arrogance in her voice.

There was a moment where neither moved and then they were off. Frank had only really seen roman techniques for the sword before, most of which involved a lot of stabbing, and he was always more of an archer. But even he could tell that the level of skill being displayed was astounding. Parry's and feints. Slashes and ripostes. They were artists and their painting was beautiful. Unfortunately, being the son of Mars, Frank could tell something else.

Percy was losing.

Not dramatically but slowly. He was a hair’s breadth slower or a bit late to slash back. Percy was losing ground and was losing the fight. Eventually even Hazel and Leo could tell. Eventually their swords crashed together and it turned into a battle of strength. As Percy started to lose ground, Leo, freed from his gag, decided to give him encouragement.

“Come on Percy!” The son of Hephaestus yelled. “Beat this loser goddess!”

That seemed to piss off Nike and she morphed into Victoria before shoving Percy back a good 5 feet and pointing at Leo.

“SILENCE, WORM!” Victoria shouted; voice tinged in that same power. Another gag appeared on Leo as Victoria turned back to Percy. “I have decided son of Poseidon what the sacrifice will be when you lose. I’m going to kill you and him and him and her and then everyone else on that ship! Then I will fly to where the battle between the two sides of our world will play out and watch as half of your kind dies!”

There was silence after her words. A stillness. Frank saw Percy’s head drop after she threatened the ship. Then it was like a switch had flipped. A teal blue aura started to appear around Percy before completely enveloping him. His head snapped up and he dropped into his stance.

“No. You won’t.”  Percy spoke softly but his words carried like he shouted them from the mountains.

Percy engaged Victoria again. The battle was beautiful. Whereas before Percy was losing in increments of microseconds, now he was winning and gaining ground quickly. Never more had Frank felt like a son of war then watching a master at the craft. Frank understood what Jason had meant about power and purpose at that moment. He was watching it in action. Frank would have felt honored to watch that battle for ages but in truth it lasted about 45 seconds.

Percy caught her blade on the side before twisting his around and hitting her on the back of the hand to disarm her. The Protector twisted his whole body around and brought his blade to her neck, cutting only deep enough for a single drop of blood to fall and holding the blade there.

“You Lose” Percy intoned in a neutral voice that seemed to be draining of the power it had before.

There it was again. The silence. The stillness. Frank watched as Percy capped his blade and put it in his pocket before turning to the trio that had been standing off to the side.

“Can you guys take her back to the ship?  Percy asked Shakely “I need a minute.”

“NO!”

All four of them turned back to the defeated goddess who had shouted. Her rage seemed to be causing the split between the two sides to exacerbate, as she had split at the waist into two torsos.

“I DO NOT LOSE! THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE” both mouths roared as they marched toward Percy.

“Hey loser!” Leo, again freed from his gag, shouted.

“WHAT WORM?” the goddess’s two halves screamed at him.

“Catch!” Leo yelled before hitting the top of his sphere he had pulled from his tool belt. At his activation, a bronze net shot out and wrapped around the goddess and took her to the ground. As she screamed and yelled about the injustice of this, Frank watched as Leo did a little celebratory dance.   

“We will get her back to the ship, my lord” Hazel told Percy.

Frank saw Percy flinch at the title but watched as the Protector nodded and walked to stand in the middle of the arena. Frank knew that he should go and help Leo and Hazel move the now pouting goddess, but he also knew he had to ask this question. So, he approached Percy.

“Percy.” Frank spoke quietly as the Hurricane Rider turned to him. “I got to know. Are you-“

“Don’t.” Percy spoke quietly, almost pleadingly. Frank saw what he thought might be tears forming in his now green eyes. “Don’t ask that question Frank. Please.”

Frank looked at him for a second and then nodded. As he headed back to help the other two, Frank supposed he didn’t really need to ask it.

After all, Frank had seen it.

Chapter Text

As she stood in the ruins of her father’s former abode and channeled the storm above, Kymopoleia couldn’t help but think of her family.

She had not seen her divine father, mother or even siblings in a little over 400 years. The goddess of stormy seas had thought to assist her demigod son in the only way she had known how and conjured up a dreadful storm to delay the Spanish Armada, if only a little bit. It had been a beautiful storm, truly one of her greatest works, and had sent back or slowed a decent chunk of the Armada.

How was she to have known that the preposed sacking of England had the blessing of Zeus?

Apparently, Elizabeth really had been illegitimate and was the daughter of her father, unbeknownst to Kym herself. It had been a ploy to get his line of legacies on the throne, as pay back against Zeus.  The Lord of the Gods had taken to inserting himself into the dynasties across the continent. Zeus had been suspicious and given his blessing to King Philip for the invasion. Of course, the sky king had taken Kym’s interference as a sign his suspicions were right. Even after the Armada had been broken and sent packing, Zeus had used it as justification for having Hera curse Kym’s demigod sister Elizabeth to be unmarried and childless.

 Her father’s temper had been great.

Poseidon had raged at her and yelled at her in a way that he would not have in eras past. Being divine bestowed a good memory and she still remembered her first storm. Right after her birth, Kym’s first cries had stirred up the storms so bad that it had caused a minor collapse of the trading economy and at least one famine. Seeing her destructive power had caused the Sea god to laugh and celebrate.

But in the time before she left, it had only given her father cause to yell and berate.

In a way, Kym knew she could not blame her father. The real blame for the change laid in humans. For just as the gods could create, change, and destroy humans so too could the humans do the same to gods. They had created a god out of a man like Dionysus. They had softened the mentalities of the gods from ones of terrifying primordial powers to ones of civilization and growth. They had destroyed gods who stood in the way of their growth, like Pan.

Kym feared they would do the same to her.

 She had felt her power waning. Kym had felt her very presence waning. The goddess of stormy seas thought that someone from her family would come to her or at least go looking for her. But no one had in centuries. Kym feared that she would disappear and no one would even notice.

It was this fear that had led Kym to accepting Gaia offer.

She knew it was a long shot but it was all Kym felt she had. When humanity rebuilt itself after the fall of the west and Olympus, and Kym knew it would rebuild despite what Gaia and her disgusting giant children believed, She hoped she could return to the council and push for them to be kept in a more primal or at least less advanced state. Giving them fire was one thing but allowing them machines was another.

Or at least that is what Kym tricked herself into thinking.

As she channeled a storm to sink the ship carrying her demigod brother and his companions, Kym knew she was lashing out in anger and fear. Angry at being forgotten. Angry at being left behind. Afraid of the changing world. Afraid of fading. Kym channeled that anger and fear into the storm above. If the goddess of stormy seas was going to go out, let the entire old world be covered in her wake.

Though she did think it was strange how much she had to pour into maintaining control of the storm.   It was like it was fighting her and she did not know why.

At least until she saw him.

Kymopoleia had seen demigod children of her father before but never had one both looked so much Poseidon. Even her brother Triton had parts of his features that looked like their mother. This young man looked like he could have been a painting of her father in the times in which the lord of the seas fought against his own father. But his power strangely reminded her more of her own than of her father’s. There was a wildness to it that spoke of whipping wind and rain. But there was something else there, something that spoke of protection and seemed to leech itself onto the other young man with him.

If Kym was honest with herself, it felt less like two young demigods and more like a god and his priest.

“Interesting.” Kymopoleia called out to the two, who finally had spotted her and made their way over “I had been told to cause trouble for a demigod brother and his companions. But you look like more.”

The one she had identified as Percy flinched at that. Kym wondered why.

“You are the one making the storm?” the roman called out to her.

“Yes!” Kym said with a smile “Although my baby brother here is making it quite difficult.”

“Do you know her, my lord? The son of Zeus spoke back to her brother.

Her brother glared at his priest before speaking. “Well, I am assuming she is not a kid of my mom. But no.” Percy continued with a shake of his head, “I don’t know her.”

It hurt. Like a knife to the gut, the casualness with which he spoke of his ignorance of her was a reminder of fears. But Kym turned that pain into a fearsome smile.

“Of course! Why would you?” Kym spat, the anger, pain and fear turning to venom in her voice “Why would my father speak of his once feared daughter Kymopoleia when he could speak of his loved son? Why would humans speak of the goddess of the stormy seas when they can simply ride them out now? Why would my husband speak of his wife when you freed him?”

“Your husband?” Her brother questioned.

“What? Did Briares not tell you he was you brother in-law?”  Kym spoke mockingly.

“Oh Briares!” Percy seemed to disgustingly brighten at the name “How’s he doing?”

“I do not care! I hate him!” Kym yelled at her stupid brother “Did you know I was sold to him, brother? A bride price to pay for him and his brothers helping in the first war.  The gods were not always what you think they are young ones. They were once powerful primordial beings. Athens looked to the sky, saw lightning and heard thunder and feared your father, Jason Grace. Rome saw powerful riptides, crashing waves, and raging seas and feared our father, brother. But at some point along the way, they decided they liked the taste of praise more than that of fear. So, they smoothed their rough edges and cut away the pieces that got in the way of commerce and civilization. And those of us that could not or would not change or did not fit into their idea got pushed aside. Betrayed. Abandoned.”

Gods do not need to breathe but Kym felt her chest heave with emotions. She had not expected that tirade to explode out of her mouth. Kym guessed that being back in her father’s old palace brought up emotions she had thought buried. The roman looked scared, but her brother looked angry. The goddess of stormy seas calmed herself before continuing.

 “So, tell me, my little godling brother,” Kymopoleia said in a teasing tone, making note of her brother frowning at the name and his priest smiling at it, “Are you to be my replacement? I felt you fighting me for control of the storm above. Has Poseidon finally figured out how to tame the storms for the west’s benefit? Or did father just forget about me and decide to spawn a new god?”

Kym had expected him to yell. Kym had expected Percy to denounce her. Kym had expected him to proclaim the greatness of their Father.

Kym did not expect him to land on the sand below. Kym did not expect him to walk right up to her. Kym had not expected him to look defiantly at her before speaking one single sentence.

“I am not a god.”

The silence that followed that statement seemed to ring out for an eternal moment. Jason looked like a kicked puppy. Her brother looked like a defiant child. Kym simply raised one eyebrow at him.

 “No. He’s not.” A gravely voice rang out behind them. “He is just an upstart that I am going to enjoy killing.”

Polybotes. He disgusted Kymopoleia. If there was any part of the deal she had made with Gaia that had her regret every choice she had made it was that this disgusting creature was standing in her fathers former palace.  Every fiber of her being made her want to turn and kill him. It must have been a family trait as her brother was quick to bare his teeth and propel himself to the giant. He was quite good with the blade and held his own against the giant in a manner that belayed his claim to not be a god.

“Please my Lady Kymopoleia. What can we do to convince you to help us and lift the storm?” the roman spoke, “Surely you must realize that the giants and Gaia are just using you.”

“Did you not hear my story little pontifex? The gods sold me to pay for their first war. You have no ground to stand on for being used.” Kym replied “Though I must admit, I am surprised you would think need me. Surely you and my little brother can handle that thing on your own.”

“HEY!” Polybotes yelled out at her, before getting cut on his thigh from his distraction. “OW! You little brat!” The giant flung his hand at Percy bringing forth poison that Kym saw her brother fling himself into with reckless abandon. She had expected him to come out the other side coughing, but it had appeared that the poison had not affected him in the slightest.

“We have tried before my Lady.” Jason explained worry on his face as the priest watched her brother fight. “I don’t know why it doesn’t work but it doesn’t.”

“Hmmm.” Kym toned before continuing to speak, “Tell me little priest. Tell me of my new little brother.”

She saw his eyes light up like the priests of old use to when asked of their gods. “Percy was the greatest demigod of the new age. The Wielder of Riptides wounded the god of war at 12. The Humble one took hold of the sky at the age of 14 to allow the goddess Diana to fight against the titan Atlas. The hurricane Rider fought the Titan Hyperion to a standstill by summoning his own mini hurricane. For stopping the Second Titan war, the gods offered him the gift of godhood but Percy turned it down to make the gods swear to take better care of demigods. For this, we named and worshipped him as the Protector god of demigods. His worship grows through both camps.”

Kym was silent for a moment as she took this information in. A god for demigods spread across both camps. It appears that Father had not simply replaced her but that her baby brother was gaining his godhood through the Dionysus route. But she realized something was missing from this picture.

“That is all well and good little pontifex.” Kym began, “But you missed my point from earlier. Worship and praise are what have made the gods soft. It is what pushed me out. Do not tell me who worships him in love. Tell me who prays that he stays away. Tell me who prays for forgiveness. Tell me who fears him.”

By now, she had knelt down as much that she could and was looking into the young roman’s eyes. The goddess of stormy seas saw him look confused at first and then thoughtful. Then he squared his shoulders and looked back into her eyes to speak.

“Percy has another epithet. It was born from the other part of the oath, that the gods offer pardons and clemency to the demigods who fought on the side of the titans. When his love was falling into the Pit of Tartarus, the Protector chose to fall with her. When he could have given up on the gods and lived an easy life under Titan rule, he chose to not do so. For these reasons, we call him the Loyal one.” Jason spoke with conviction. “Who prays to Percy in fear? The betrayers. The disloyal. Those who would abandon family.”

 It was like a gut punch.

“Make me a better offer Jason Grace.” Kymopoleia spoke hoping that her desperation did not seep through. After hearing her new baby brothers’ domains, the goddess of stormy seas could not help but want to help him. That the people who would need to fear him were those that she felt needed fear in their lives. But she could not help with out promises in return. She had been burned by large promises before.

“WHAT! OW!” Polybotes yelled hearing this before taking another cut to the other thigh from her brother.

“I will spread your name far and wide when we get back to camp. Everyone will know your name and your power in both camps.” Jason grace quickly promised.

“Not enough” Kym quickly said. “I was once known all through Greece. I want something long lasting. I want a temple.”

“Of course!” the roman was quick to agree.” I promise you that when I get back to Camp Jupiter and New Rome, I will commission a new temple for you. A grand temple. And I will get Camp Half-blood to make you a terrifying cabin.”

“NO!” Polybotes screamed before catching her younger brother in his net and swimming over to attack the young roman. “Do not listen to his words. You were promised the ability to make as many storms as you want as powerful as you want.”

“Ah yes” the goddess of stormy seas states “But will there be humans to fear me for it?”

“Err. Well no.” the dumb giant answers.

Kymopoleia simply looked at the young priest.

“A bunch of people praying in fear with little action figures of you.” Jason says with a grin.

“Now that” Kym starts before quickly whipping around and sending her discus flying and severing the giant’s head from his body. “ is a better offer.”

Percy had freed himself at this point and had swum over to join them.

“I will trouble you no longer brother.” Kym stated. “Your pontifex does you credit.”

Her brother sulked at her and repeated what he had said before the battle had begun. “I am not a god and he is not my pontifex. Whatever that is.”

Kym smiled at him before bending down and softly grabbing his chin to look him in the eyes.

“You can deny it to yourself. I will even allow you to deny it to me for now.” The goddess of stormy seas said softly. “But soon you will not be able to deny it. It will change you. But change does not always have to be for the worse little brother. Just don’t forget me when you can no longer deny it.”

She softly kissed his forehead before turning back to the Roman. “When you build my temple, build it next to my brothers.”

Jason put his arm across his chest in a salute. “Yes, My Lady.”

The goddess of stormy seas waved the young god and his priest off. They did not make it very far before her baby brother turned back to look at her. She met his eyes from a distance.

“ I’ll tell dad to let you back. I’ll bring you back to the family.” Percy stated with a familiar sheen in his eyes that reminded Kym of her father. “I promise.”

Kymopoleia found she could not say anything to that. She simply nodded her head.

Maybe it was time for her to try and make amends. If for nothing to see the storms her new baby brother causes in his wake.  

Chapter Text

Poseidon could honestly say that this experience was a first for him.

The lord of the Seas had been dealing with a mind-splitting headache caused by the ongoing conflict of the Greek and Roman camps. The migraine had laid the Earthshaker in bed for weeks now. To have oneself physical form feeling like it wanted to split in two and to have one’s own mind actually split and yell at itself was agony. It was torture. It was something that Neptune would not have wished upon his own father.

But it felt strangely familiar.

To have a piece of himself want to split and become its own entity, with its own purpose and name, felt like something Poseidon had gone through before. It spoke to an old piece of the lord of the horses and of a lifetime that he could barely remember. It spoke to a different name, a similar yet different family, and a different home. Perhaps it was these faint memories that helped the lord of the seas deal with the experience better than some of his other Olympians.

Well, that and the fact that both aspects of the god could agree on one thing. Percy.

 Neptune had accepted the boy as a son after seeing his character and only wished to help Percy on his journey. Poseidon had loved Percy from the moment the lord of the seas had laid his eyes on him. They both agreed that he was to become a god. Since Percy was the only thing that both sides of the one god could agree on and their combined mind felt most at ease when not clashing, watching Percy became the go to hobby for their bed rest.

Poseidon grinded his teeth to keep from interfering when Phorcys called him an upstart. Neptune had a hearty chuckle at Percy’s look of disappointment that the heroes from Camp Fish-Blood did not want to meet him. Poseidon cringed to see his golden son Chrysaor and to know where he stood on the conflict against the giants. Neptune felt proud to see Percy help cleanse the Nymphaeum. They both smiled a vicious smile to see their soon to be godling take down the twin Giants with his follower.

They screamed an echoing and haunting scream to see Percy fall.

That was the most difficult time to endure during the Sea lord’s bed rest. The two sides of the god clashing over and over on what to do. Neptune wanted to capsize the boat carrying the other heroes as a punishment for having failed to protect his son. Poseidon fought to maintain control as he knew not only would Percy not have wanted that but that they were the only hope that the Earthshaker’s son would come back to him. It was one of the most dangerous storm seasons on record and earthquakes threatened to shake California off of the continent.

Then Percy emerged from the Earth. Scathed. Scarred. Injured. But alive and unfortunately still mortal. Though both sides of the lord of horses could tell that his son’s mortality was hanging by a string, still it clung to him. It was faint and hardly there. Poseidon could not blame his daughter for almost missing it. Neptune could not believe that it still hung on and wondered what it might take for it to finally lift from Percy’s body.

Both sides of the god feared he might go looking for fire soon and with the son of fire god with him, he wouldn’t have to go far.

As they watched Percy and his companions fight their way across the Acropolis against the Giants and their allies, they wanted to do something! But the two parts of the mind of the lord of the seas still could not come to an agreement on the action to take. The one body they shared felt like it was being pulled in two. As both parts watched what was possibly some of the last mortal blood of Percy fall and awaken Gaea, both parts screamed to jump into action.

And then suddenly the pain was gone. The two aspects of the Earthshaker slammed back together into a perfect fit. The body of the lord of the seas regained its full power and donned its war gear in an instant. Poseidon was one again and ready to fight. And as the lord of horses appeared over the Acropolis and saw all of his fellow Olympians around him, Poseidon allowed himself a moment of nostalgia. He had not done a charge like this with his family since the last Giant war.

But after that nostalgia was over, Poseidon experienced something he had never had before. The lord of the seas fought with Percy.

God often fought like their domains. Poseidon and his siblings fought with pure raw elements. One did not simply resist the ocean. Its waves pulled you under and drowned you. One did not absorb the lightning. It burnt you to a crisp. One did not simply tell death no. The earth swallowed your still beating corpse whole.

The younger Olympians fought within their domains as well. Ares hacked and slashed his way across the battlefield like a berserker, blood rage fueling him. Athena picked you apart with her spear strikes and parried any blow you would even think to send her way. The twin archers rained death from above and afar. Even Poseidon’s son Triton fought like his domain. The immortal son of the sea often mirrored the tides he loved to call with his method of darting in for quick strikes and then falling back.

Percy fought like none of them and yet at the same time nor did he fight like any demigod that Poseidon had ever seen. Most demigods fought with their own death as the first and foremost thing on their mind. It did not matter if they killed their opponent if they did not live to bask in the glory of it. So they fought to survive.

Percy was different.

Percy taunted his opponents and left himself seemingly open. The son of the sea tried to draw as much of the enemy’s attention to himself so that his allies would be safer. He seemed to have a preternatural instinct on when he needed to cover a demigod from a blow they had not seen coming. Percy inspired the demigods to fight harder and to live, even as he opened himself up to possibly deadly wounds to do so.

Percy did not fight like a demigod. He fought like a protector god. Poseidon could not be prouder.

All too quickly it was over. The giants dead and disintegrating. Zeus held his little court congratulating the demigods, promising punishments for some in attendance (inappropriately Poseidon thought. Though she took his son, at least Hera had not buried her head and hoped that nothing would come to pass. And as the one who used to hold the title of Oracle before him, Poseidon could not blame Apollo for the second great prophecy.) before finally informing the demigods that their job was not over. Gaea had awoken and they were needed back across the ocean to fight for their camps. After they watched the King of the Gods spike the ship laden with the demigods back across the sea, most turned to make their exit.

“Do you think me a fool brother?” Zeus’s voice rumbled.

All motion stopped upon the acropolis. Even the winds seemed to know not to make a move. All knew that for Zeus to withhold a conversation from in front of the demigods but still feel the need to start it here, on bare earth, meant something was up. Worse that he had started the conversation with that sentence. They had all heard that question before and it never spelled anything good.

“Whatever do you mean brother?” Poseidon replied evenly. The lord of the seas did not know what his brother was talking about but Poseidon felt that he needed to be on guard.

“Did you think I would not notice?” Zeus accused “Did you think I would stand next to and fight with my own son and not notice the aura of power, an aura of protection, around him? Do you think I am blind?”

“Perhaps,” Athena interjected causing her father’s head to whip around to look at her “it was our queen Hera’s protection around him.”

 “No.” Hera answered the unasked question immediately “Though Zeus gave him to me as a champion, I never offered any protection to him. I must also note that the boy no longer feels like my champion anymore.”

“What? Was he stolen from you?” Hermes asked a touch too innocently for the wicked grin upon his face.

“It was not my wife’s protection.” Zeus spoke loudly, taking control of the conversation before it could tangent off, before pointing at Poseidon “It was your SONS!”

The lord of the seas imagined that his brother, ever the dramatic, thought he would get gasps from everyone around. Zeus got far fewer than he imagined as Poseidon realized that most in attendance had been near Percy in the last few months and felt his power and understood what was to come. The Earthshaker imagined that the king of the gods thought he would deny and dismiss the claim as a means to keep peace.

Zeus did not expect Poseidon’s answer to be a simple “So?”

“YOU WILL TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE DONE BROTHER!” Zeus thundered at Poseidon, with his head quickly turning red and purple in anger. Thunder boomed and lightning struck nearby trees as the lord of the skies continued to scream into his brother’s face. “YOU WILL TELL ME HOW YOU GRANTED YOUR SON SO MUCH POWER AND WHY MY SON WOULD DARE BE A FOLLOWER OF ONE OF YOURS!”

Poseidon was quiet for a brief second before smiling.

“I did nothing brother. This was all the mortals.” Poseidon spoke through a smile that said the lord of the seas was all too pleased with how this had turned out. “The fates deemed that my son would be the greatest hero of a new age. With a love story to warm the most frigid of hearts, combat prowess to put Achilles to shame and a willingness to sacrifice himself for all of his people that endears them all to him. Percy has done more great deeds and slain more beasts than your son Hercules. He has fought monsters, gods, Titans, and Giants. He restored honor to the legion. He has brought equality and protection to the Greeks. Is it any wonder your son follows him? Is it any wonder that they worship him?”

At this last almost hissed line, Poseidon watched his brother’s face lose its color as an understanding dawned on him. The lord of the sea’s smile grew a touch more viscous.

“Oh yes brother.” Poseidon spoke loudly now, letting his pride in his son radiate through all of his words. “My son will soon join us on Olympus through the same method your son Dionysus did and your mortal son, his first champion, will spread his name through the world.”

Silence hung in the air after that proud and boastful statement. Hera looked upset that her champion had been stolen, Demeter looked overall bored with the drama playing out, and the gods who had been in the know looked on warily at the king to see what he would do.

“But he is still mortal now, is he not?” Zeus darkly asked “What is to stop me from smiting him right now?”

In a moment, Poseidon had his trident out and Zeus his master bolt in hand and looked ready to come to blows. All other gods prepared for things to break down. Some looked ready to flee and some looked ready to join in. Poseidon wondered if Zeus realized how many seemed ready to join the lord of the seas over him.

“That action” “would accomplish” “nothing, sky king.”

Those three voices caused them all to turn. It was rare for the fates to make themselves known as they had here and even rarer to hear them speak. Usually, they went through an oracle or through Apollo. Speaking of the Sun god, it looked like he was fighting to keep his mouth shut. The fates frowned at him.

“Speak for us oracle.” “Speak the prophecy you withheld.” “Announce the new Protector.”

 Apollo sighed. His eyes turned a bright yellow and the sun god spoke.

A god of a new age comes.

Combining through prayer two people into one.

Denied as a gift but accepted in the end

After denying to followers, family and friends

Through acceptance of lightning, He shall rise

the Protector, the Loyal one, the Wielder of Riptides

All was quiet as Apollo came back to himself. His sister Artemis rushed to his side. Zeus looked like he was about to pop a gasket. Athena looked contemplative. Poseidon had a grin on his face to match the cat that caught the canary. But before any of the gods could speak, they all felt the ground shudder and a power spike. As one, they turned their heads to the west.   

Poseidon’s grin stayed firmly in place as he knew he was about to experience another first. His first son to rise.

Chapter Text

Love terrified Annabeth. It seemed to invite tragedy.

Growing up as a child of logic to a father who had tried to return her to Athena, she never really got why people would subject themselves to it. Love only ever seemed to cause her pain when it was around, whether it was from her, to her or didn’t include her at all. Her father’s love for her stepmother blinded him to the pain Annabeth felt from his rejection. Zeus’s love for his daughter had only made her own love for Thalia turn heartbreak when the lord of the skies turned her into a tree.

 Later Annabeth would add her love for Luke only adding to the sting of his betrayal.

Even when she turned to the stories and myths, Annabeth would find that love always seemed to be followed by tragedy. Heracules loved his wife and children and the gods still made him kill them. Achilles lost himself to rage and wrath due to his love for Patroclus. Love caused the deadliest and largest war in all of Greek myths. Even the gods were not safe. Apollo had a string of romances that end poorly so long that it seemed cruel.

After a year at camp and having seen one too many romances between demigods end in tears, Annabeth had told the crying boy that he was stupid and loudly declared that she would never fall in love.

Chiron had shook his head with an amused smile on his face and Luke had just laughed at her. Her siblings had started to tease her about it and nicknamed her a ‘Huntress in waiting’. Annabeth kicked them anytime she heard it, still too young to channel her emotions correctly and too sore about the hunters trying to take Thalia away from her and Luke. Most of the Aphrodite kids had scowled at her and turned their nose up at Annabeth for a good while.

All except for Silena.

Silena had taken it as her personal mission to make the daughter of Athena believe in love. Every week the child of love could be found calling out “Annie! I’ve got a story for you!” before dragging Annabeth off to some corner of the big house to read her a story that Silena claimed would make her believe in love. Every time, Annabeth would point out some tragedy that would come near the end of the story or in a continuation and Silena would pout and say “But does that matter?” and look disappointed when the child of logic said yes. Eventually they ran out of stories. But still, Silena told her that one day Annabeth would have a love that shook the earth.

Which is why Silena was the first one that Annabeth went to when she thought she had the beginning of a crush on Percy.

The daughter of love was Annabeth’s first stop back at camp after being saved from Altas. Hearing about Percy breaking the rules again to come and save her had set the daughter of logic’s heart fluttering in a way she hadn’t felt before. Silena hadn’t rubbed it in her face or said ‘I told you so’. She had squealed and made Annabeth tell her everything.  Silena had quickly become her confidant and biggest supporter.

Then Percy had went and blew both himself and Mt. St. Helens up.

 Silena had found Annabeth crying in the sand dunes and hugged her.

“This is why love is dumb.” The daughter of logic had mumbled into Silena’s shoulder, uncaring she was insulting the older girl’s mother. “What is the point of all these tales about love and how great it is if all it ever ends in is tragedy?”

“Oh Annie.” Silena had said softly, pulling back to hold Annabeth’s face in her hands, wiping away a tear from her cheek. “You read the stories, but you missed the point. Myths and tales teach us. Good love stories end in tragedy for a reason. It is to remind you that when you have love, you cherish it and hold onto it as hard as you can. Because you never know when it could be taken away.”

Annabeth hadn’t really understood what she meant at the time. Her pain was too raw and before she could really process it, Percy had reappeared, and the war had really kicked into high gear.

But looking into the terrified eyes of the boy… man… (god) that she loved, Silena’s words made all too much sense to Annabeth.

The first person the daughter of Athena had heard praying to Percy was Travis, so one could maybe forgive her for not taking the worship too seriously. The son of Hermes had made a big show of it too, throwing a whole steak into the fire and loudly proclaiming his thanks to “the Protector of Demigods.” The older campers had laughed. By the Third night, some of them were getting in on the bit. Even Clarise had burned part of her dinner in thanks for Percy “being a good punching bag.”

But while they were laughing, the newer campers were not.

Too late did she realize that the Stoll brothers were convincing the new campers that they were serious. The twins had influenced every young child or teenager that walked through the doors of the Hermes cabin that Percy was not just a very strong demigod but rather a full god, deserving of worship and possessing powers beyond that of a demigod. They were helped, wittingly or no, by the fact that every older camper had a story of Percy doing something that none of them could do. Annabeth had only been made aware of this poisoning of the youth when one of her new brothers had asked her if she was going to give Percy “his first demigod child”.

Annabeth had almost broken her neck whipping around to look at the young boy.

“First of all, Percy is not a god.” Annabeth had quickly replied, confused at her siblings confused face “Secondly, I’m not planning on having kids anytime soon. Why would you even ask that?”

“Well, in all the stories, you seem to be right by the Protectors side.” The young boy answered “I just thought that maybe y’all were married or promised to each other. And since he’s a god and you’re a demigod, then your kid would be, like, three quarters god.”

Annabeth was stunned by her young sibling’s words. “Where are you hearing these stories?” She asked.

“Down by the beach!” the younger child of Athena said with a big grin on his face, “Malcolm tells them in the Temple.”

Annabeth had realized that it wasn’t the Stolls that were leading this effort but her own brother. She had told Malcolm he had to stop. Her brother refused. She had told him that Percy wouldn’t want this. He said he knew. But still he continued. Malcolm continued to preach and evangelize in the name of “the Loyal one”. But worse was the fact that older campers were starting to follow him. Hearing Malcolm’s conviction when calling himself a priest of the “hurricane rider” made a lot of the older campers realize he was serious and many quickly joined the newly dubbed “children of Percy”. Soon it felt like the only people who weren’t attending the sermons on the beach was Annabeth and Clarisse.

Well, Percy too.

Annabeth had tried to explain what was happening at camp to him but Percy still acted like it was a joke. It wasn’t until the son of the sea came back and had multiple young campers call him lord and bow to him that it seemed to sink in. The two had gone to Cabin three and sat for a time when it seemed to get to be too much for Percy. Then her boyfriend had gotten silent. It was never good when Percy got silent. Finally, Percy had asked for directions to the temple on the beach and marched off in its direction.

Annabeth waited on the porch of the cabin and was about to leave when the storm came. Winds seemed to blow in from out of nowhere. Storm clouds formed and the first drops of rain started to fall. Then more fell and more and more. It seemed like there was going to quickly be a flood. Then it stopped, like someone had turned off the faucet and turned off a fan.

Percy came back soon enough.

“I couldn’t get him to stop” the son of the sea finally spoke when they were back inside sitting in front of each other on his bed. “I tried. But he said he wasn’t going to. Said I was their god.”

Annabeth could see how much this was affecting him.

“Percy, you are not a god.” The daughter of Athena reminded him. “And you certainly don’t belong to them. The only people you belong to is you, your mom and me.”

“Thanks, Wise Girl.” Percy said with a smile, pulling her into cuddle as he laid back in the bed. “At least I got Malcolm to agree to no live sacrifices. I’m just worried that someone is going to get hurt.”

“Don’t worry, Seaweed brain.” Annabeth reassured “I’m sure this will all blow over soon. And hey, it will make a good bead for next year.”

Percy had laughed. She had laughed. They stayed cuddled like that for hours. It was perfect.

Then Percy went missing.

Annabeth would consider those initial days some of her worst. It felt like she was snapped back to the aftermath of Mt. St. Helens. But this time she didn’t have the mercy of thinking she knew what had happened. Percy had just disappeared. Kissed her goodnight at the fire and then gone in the morning. This time she didn’t have the war with the Titans to think about. All she had was time to worry and wonder.

This time she didn’t have Selina to lean on. This time, she had the Children.

Every time she turned around, Annabeth had someone there to reassure her. Whether it was Malcolm as a shoulder to lean on, one of the Stolls as a hand on the back, or just a younger camper holding her hand.  All of them telling her that they would find him. Annabeth appreciated how supportive they were. She did not appreciate them calling Percy “Our lord”.

Seaweed brain was her boyfriend first.

By the time Annabeth was getting visions from Hera, her nerves were starting to fray. When they found Jason instead of Percy, the daughter of Athena felt ready to scream. When she realized that Hera had tricked her into finding someone to save the goddess of marriage instead of finding Annabeth’s boyfriend, she had wanted to go find the goddess herself just to strangle her. When the questers had come back saying they knew where Percy would be, she could have jumped for joy.

When they told Annabeth it would be six months, the daughter of logic had cried.

Those six months were hard. Regular trips to see Percy’s mom helped but being in camp, for the first time, felt suffocating. Annabeth found herself rounding the corner to look at the cabins and expecting to see Percy leaning against cabin three or at the fire pit talking to Hestia. The daughter of logic found herself staring into the ocean more times then she care to admit waiting for him to just walk out of the waves like he had done all those years ago. By the time the ship was ready to fly to where they thought New Rome was, she was sick to death of hearing everyone say not to worry and that they would find “the Protector”.

The Children got on her nerves. As did the quest her mother had given her.

Annabeth felt she could be forgiven for how she reacted when she finally got her man back.

It was not until later, when they were flying across the country as fast as they could to escape the Romans and make it to the Atlantic, that the two really had a quiet moment to themselves. In the bowls of the ship, Annabeth was finally able to really look at Percy and she noticed something. The son of the sea looked good. Too good. Percy had always had a roguish handsomeness to him but now it was like someone had turned it up to 11. He looked perfect. Too perfect.

It worried her. What he said next worried her more.

“I heard them you know.”

“Hmm? Heard what?” Annabeth asked cuddled into his chest.

“The Campers. ‘The Children.’”  Percy answered not looking her in the eyes, “When I was asleep, I heard and saw visions of them. I didn’t know who they were or who they were praying to but I felt like I wanted to help them. Even when I was at the Wolf House or finding my way to the legion, I heard them.”

Both of them were silent for a while. If she were honest, those words had scared Annabeth and she could tell that speaking them frightened Percy too. They stayed in that silence as neither of them wanted to ask the question on both of their minds. Eventually one of them did.

“Annabeth what if I-“ Percy started.

“No. Stop Percy.” The daughter of logic cut him off before climbing to straddle the son of the seas hips and hold his face in her hands. His strikingly too perfect face. “You were dreaming. You’ve had wandering dreams before and that is all those were. And you were probably tired and exhausted and just hearing voices. You are not a god Seaweed brain.”

Percy had stared into her eyes for a long moment before smiling.

“Yeah. You’re probably right, Wise Girl.” The son of the sea stated, pulling her backdown into his chest. “Don’t know what I was thinking. All that cult stuff your brother was doing probably just messed with my head.”

“About that.” Annabeth sighed “You are probably going to have to have a conversation with Jason. The Stolls kind of got to him and he is a fairly strong believer.”  

Percy had been silent for a second before starting to laugh.

“What is so funny?” Annabeth asked through a smile. She loved hearing Percy laugh.

“I’m just imagining the big sky man’s face at hearing his kid is worshipping me.” Percy chuckled out.

Annabeth had laughed. Percy had laughed. They kissed. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

A few days later they fell to Tartarus in each other’s arms as well.  

Tartarus was hell. There was no other way to describe it.  

They had been in Tartarus for less than ten minutes when Annabeth had decided that it was not something she would wish on her worst enemies. Falling into the River of Lamentation had been a bad start, with the daughter of logic having to convince Percy to work with her to get out while dealing with his lamentations for ‘His Children’. Having Seaweed brain refocus on a life in New Rome with her helped. By the time the two of them got out and got their baring’s, they were freezing and shivering. Only a long shot call by Annabeth had them go to the River Phlegethon.

Out of the Freezer and into the fire.

The boils and blister on her hands as she dipped them into the river was a pain she would never forget, as was the taste of its waters. But the river did its job. It healed her and sustained her enough that she could get Percy to drink from it. Seeing his face go from blister covered, with his eyes forcefully closed shut, back to its new almost too perfect nature was a relief.

The intensity with which he stared into the flames when he could finally open his eyes was not.

It took Annabeth shaking Percy to break his impromptu stare down with the river of fire. It shocked him and sent him back peddling away from the river as far as he quickly could. He kneeled and muttered something to himself she could not hear.

“What did you say?” Annabeth asked.

Percy looked up to her face. His eyes, usually the color of a stormy sea but now a familiar teal with an encroaching ring of gold, were watery and steam was rising from the sides of them as what would have been tears rose as water vaper above his too perfect for the situation dark hair. The son of the sea was beautiful and haunting in that moment. Even for all of her time spent around Percy, Annabeth was stunned by him in that moment. So much she nearly missed his reply.

“I can’t ascend here. I can’t Annabeth.” Percy almost sobbed. “I can feel it. If I ascend here, Ill be wrong. No. Not just wrong. Inverted. Everything they want of me, everything they ask of me, everything they pray to me for. I’ll be the opposite. I can’t do that. I can’t ascend here.”

Percy quickly grabbed one of Annabeth’s hand.

“Promise me, If I look like I am going, you’ll kill me.”

SMACK!

Annabeth’s free hand moved almost faster than her mind and struck Percy across the face. She quickly used both to grab the back of his head and pulled him into a hard kiss. A kiss that demanded that the son of the sea break out of whatever spell he was in. As the daughter of logic pulled back, she looked directly into her boyfriend’s eyes.

“Now you listen to me Seaweed brain.” Annabeth began, voice hard and strong as it demanded the son of the sea’s full attention. “When you underwent the waters to get the curse of Achilles, it was not the campers that kept you whole. It wasn’t Nico. It wasn’t Grover. Di imortales, it wasn’t even your mom. It was me. I was your humanity. And even though the Curse is gone, I don’t remember giving that position up. I do not care what my brother says. I do not care what Jason says. You are not a God until I say so. You do not get to ascend until I say so. You are mine. And I am yours.”

Annabeth kissed him again before she broke down and just hugged him. They stayed there for some time, scorching under the heat of the river. Eventually Percy pulled back and it was his turn to hold her face as he spoke.

“Okay Wise Girl. No ascending until you say so.” The son of the sea promised softly. “Now let’s figure out where we are going.”

That promise made by the river seemed to calm Percy. It seemed to ground him even as they were attacked by monsters and Bob fell in to help them. It grounded Seaweed brain enough that he was able to laugh when Annabeth included a line about playing nice with the other children in her note to Connor. As they rested in the hut of Damasen, Annabeth truly thought that they were going to be able to make it out of this hell without having to worry about the possibility of Percy ascending.

Then they met misery.  

They had expected Akhlys to betray them. They had even expected needing to fight for the Death mist. They had not expected that the mist would literally turn them to mist. They had not expected mere complements to be enough to earn the Protogenos’ ire. They had not expected misery to focus on Percy. They had not expected Akhlys to surround the son of Poseidon in a veritable sea of poison.

Akhlys did not expect Percy to turn her own poison against her.

Annabeth did not expect Percy to start glowing.

Suddenly terrified of her seaweed brain’s prophecy coming true, Annabeth screamed for him to stop. She screamed and screamed but it was like he could not hear her. His too perfect face slowly shifting into something terrifying and his body starting to glow. Not in the soft teal color that Annabeth remembered from Percy’s eyes but rather a sick green color. Annabeth screamed one last thing in desperation.

“YOU PROMISED!”

Percy’s head snapped to her, in a move that would have made a horror movie villain proud, and it was like suddenly he realized what he was doing. The son of the sea dropped to his knees as Akhlys fell like a marionette whose strings had all been cut. The poison disappeared from the ground and Annabeth rushed forward to pull Percy into a hug. He panted into her shoulder before starting to laugh. It was not a kind laugh like the ones they had shared in the cabins or on the ship. It was a laugh that should have shifted into a sob but it seemed like Percy didn’t have it in him for the laugh to fully transform.

“You were right.” Percy finally wheezed out, pulling back to look Annabeth in her eyes. “I did promise. I’m yours and only yours as long as you want. No ascending till you say so. I promise.”

And now he was asking her to give him that permission.

Percy could not and would not verbalize it. Annabeth knew that. It was not in him to intentionally bring her pain and he knew that this would cause her pain. The son of the sea would not ask the daughter of logic to give him up when he knew how much she had already given up for the world.

Percy was a good man for that.

But Annabeth knew there was a question in those terrified glowing eyes. As the earth shook with new life and monsters closed in to surround demigods, Roman and Greek alike, the daughter of Athena knew there was a request in those eyes. As her brother and a Kool-Aid stained roman kneeled and presented a standard with three bolts of lightning atop it, Annabeth knew what he was asking.

Percy was asking for her permission to ascend.

He was asking her to let him help these people, their people, who have put their faith in him. The son of the sea was asking her to let him show them they had not been wrong to worship him. He was asking her to let him become the Protector.

Percy would be a good god for that.

Annabeth knew what she had to do.

“Go. Protect our people” Annabeth said softly. “Be the god they need and carry the heart of the good man you are.”

Percy leaned in and kissed her. The two had kissed many times in the past but this one felt different. Their first under the lake had felt like exhilaration at having survived the titan war. The kiss in new Rome had felt like relief at being reunited. The stolen kisses in Tartarus had felt rebellious and reassuring in the face of unending horror.

This kiss felt like a promise.

“I love you, wise girl.” Percy said as he broke the kiss to lean his forehead against hers.

“I love you too seaweed brain.” Annabeth whispered back.

Percy turned back to the two still kneeling Demigods. Annabeth realized as she stared at his back that this might be the last time that she sees him as a mortal. The daughter of logic prayed that this moment would not turn into one of the stories she used to read with Silena.

Annabeth prayed she would have a love story with a happy ending.