Chapter Text
Of course.
Of course he had to be trapped in the past.
Of course he had to be trapped in the past, on Olympus.
And of course, after planning to stay hidden in the shadows until the Fates took him back, he was thrust into the temple of Dionysus by two drunken, apologetic satyrs.
He had been told by the Fates that he was misplaced in time, and to stay put on Olympus until they could get him back to his time.
(How could you misplace someone anyway? Especially in time?)
And while yes, it was the most logical decision, it didn't mean he couldn't be mad about it.
So, for over a month, Percy hid in the forest of Olympus, befriending nymphs and surviving off of berries and lake water.
He had thought that he was safe.
It seems Percy forgot just how bad his luck could be.
The crazy rabbit hole that Percy unwillingly lept down started when two drunken satyrs, known as Fran and Dan, stumbled into the forest to chase after some wood nymphs.
Percy had been crawling around on the dirt floor, looking for an opening to run into another part of the forest without being caught.
Fran, the less drunk one, had fallen onto Percy by accident, and Dan, who didn't see Percy until he got up, was laughing his furry behind off.
Once Fran had gotten up, and Percy had stumbled to a standing position, the two satyrs immediately stopped talking.
Fran made a choked gasp, while Dan dropped his mouth open.
"Dude,"
Dan slurred, looking over at his friend.
"You are so dead! You just landed on a son of Poseidon!"
Percy blinked, the headache he already had now stronger do to the fall he had taken.
The demi-god was surprised; it took both Percy and almost all of camp weeks to figure out who Percy's father was, and these two—very drunk—satyrs figured it out within seconds?
"That guy is so protective of his kids!"
Dan drove the point forward, grabbing his friends shoulder with a look that said it all.
Fran looked ready to pick the flowers for his funeral, whining a sad goat noise, his ears flopping down.
Protective?
Percy thought, thinking back to just how many times he had almost died. His father had been there for none of those events, even when the stupid rule wasn't in place.
If this really was the past that Percy derived from, what could have possibly happened for such a change?
Fran turned around to face the young boy, a pleading look in his eyes that made Percy's heart sink.
Fran soon got to his knees, exclaiming apologies left and right. It took minutes of Percy croaking to stand back up that he actually did.
Dan then whispered something to Fran, who lit up, and they quickly dragged Percy away from his safe space.
Percy tried to say that he was fine staying where he was, but the two satyrs didn't listen.
And here he was, being ushered into the temple of Dionysus.
Percy wanted to curl up into a ball and die, the Fates said that he was free to interact with anyone he wanted, but Percy said that he would do the exact opposite.
The demi-god didn't want to meet any gods, especially not the past version of his old camp director.
But, he also couldn't break free from their grip, the satyrs were pretty strong.
There was a party going on inside, with satyrs, nymphs, and even some humans chugging any type of alcohol they could get their hands on.
Everyone wore basic white chiton's or toga's, with the occasional leopard print scarf or cape.
But Fran and Dan continued on, and Percy knew where they were taking him.
Sitting utop a throne, in the back of the room, was Mr.D, or Dionysus.
He was smiling, laughing along with a few humans that surrounded him.
If Percy wasn't already nauseous from the smell of alcohol, he definitely felt sick seeing the god.
Percy was finally let go, and he had the instinct to run, but knew he shouldn't. Years at camp taught him that he couldn't run from the god of wine.
"Sir,"
Fran and Dan said in unison, bowing low to Dionysus. The god glanced down at them, before his eyes landed on Percy.
Percy felt a shiver ripple down his spine as the god studied him.
Mr.D was a terrifying guy, no doubt about it, but this Dionysus just felt. . .stronger in a way.
He looked, and acted, nicer; with a soft smile and gentle eyes. But something about him felt off. He held a sense of intoxicating insanity to him.
Percy could feel the power radiating off of him, and his senses were ringing as many danger alarms as they could.
Mr.D was grounded by Zeus, and had gotten his alcohol privileges taken away, with a few of his powers being walled off as well.
It made since as to why this Mr.D, or Dionysus, felt stronger. Because he was.
Safe to say, Percy kept his eyes glued to the ground.
Dionysus hummed, tilting his head in curiosity.
"Hello, Fran, hello Dan. May I ask who this lovely being is?"
His voice rang through Percy's head like a meat grinder, his tone somehow soft and sharp at the same time.
The demi-god wanted to question the 'lovely' part, but kept his mouth shut.
"This is a son of Poseidon sir! Fran had bumped into him in the forest, and we brought him here to maybe calm the sea god down."
Dan explained, his voice raising an octave or two at the last two words.
"Ah, I see. Yes, the god wouldn't be to happy at two lower satyrs hurting a son of his. I'm glad you brought him to me."
The god replied, setting down the golden goblet he drank from.
Percy still didn't see the big deal of a satyr accidentally bumping into him, but the tone Dionysus sported seemed playful, tinted with mischief and humor, he was teasing the two satyrs.
He knew this wasn't something to worry about, yet followed along with their plan anyway. But why?
Dionysus stood up, shooing the two satyrs away with gentle force, before stepping towards Percy.
The god, as well as any other, towered over the demi-god, only causing Percy's panic to rise.
"Oh my, you're quite the mess, aren't you?"
The god spoke, he was a lot closer then Percy expected him to be.
Finally, the boy looked up, coming face to face with the wine god.
Dionysus' smile widened, his eyes sparkling with an unfamiliar mischief.
"My, you have your father's features alright. What is your name, young one?"
Percy swallowed, his throat felt like sandpaper.
"Perseus. Perseus Jackson. But I go by Percy."
He croaked out, his voice hoarse and scratchy from dehydration.
"Well, Perseus, you are quite the attractive boy. Unfortunately it's hidden by all this filth."
Percy couldn't even question that, as Dionysus snapped his fingers.
Over four servants appeared beside Percy, causing him to jump, instinctively reaching for his pen.
He stopped himself right before he grabbed it, glancing around wildly, as if to dare the servants to fight him.
"These lovely people here are going to get you cleaned up."
Dionysus explained, flashing a toothy smile.
"But, why?"
Percy heard himself ask.
"Because,"
The man started, tapping Percy on the nose with a wink. Percy stiffened at the contact.
"Hospitality is important, dear!"
Dionysus replied, giving a chuckle.
The demi-god had almost forgotten the lesson on Xenia he had taken a while back.
Everyone, even the gods, had followed the rules of Xenia very sternly. Not to mention, Zeus was the god of hospitality, meaning you would get extremely harsh punishments if you didn't follow the rules.
The servants ushered him off, into a different part of the temple, giving quick smiles and pats of assurance as they walked.