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"You're a fucking asshole." She complained in a tiny but gruffy voice as Luke picked her up with ease. Yes, she was bulky for an nine year old, but she was still way tinier than him. He threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, he knew that was the only way of carrying her that she wouldn't take offence in.
Even if it wasn't the... best position in this situation, since- "Your arm's broken, Clarisse." He sighed. "We told you to not participate in capture the flag yet." He scolded lightly.
She groaned in annoyance as he walked out of the woods. "Put me down!" She ordered, punching his back with all her might... which would defenetly leave bruises the next day, even if she was only using one hand.
Luke ran a hand over his teeth as he struggled to stay upright. "You're not gonna run, are ya?" He asked. He was faster than her anyways, it wouldn't be a problem. Just an inconvenience.
"No." She answered right away. Luke paused.
"O-kay." Luke sing-songed, putting her back on her feet. She looked at him for a second, bloodied lip twisting into a scowl. Hair wild around her face, giving her the look of a very upset baby lion. She was crandling her right arm, which was twisted unnaturaly. It was a wonder she wasn't screaming bloody murder about it. Crazy pain tolerance, this kid.
She ran.
Luke sighed before taking off after her.
___________
"Hey Lee." Luke greeted cheerfully as he entered the infirmary. He readjusted his grip on Clarisse's ankle. She was dangling upside down, struggling, and was getting quite heavy, Luke may be strong and all, but come on.
"Luke- oh." Lee started but cut himself off as he saw the scene. Luke smiled resignedly. Lee rolled his eyes. "Put her down." He said. Luke obliged and caught her by the (unbroken) arm when she tried to run to the door. Lee approached her.
"Hey Clarisse." He said softly, she ignored him completly. "I know you don't like the infirmary but I promise that if you let me treat your arm, I'll let Michael spar with you tomorrow at training." He said. Clarisse froze and turned slowly to him. He raised an eyebrow.
Huh. That had been quick.
"Promise?" Clarisse asked, biting on her bottom lip. Apparently her fight to preserve her honor ended when it came to the possibility of kicking Michael Yew's ass.
Lee nodded right away.
"Okay." She finally agreed. Luke sighed in relief, Lee sent him a smile as he pried her arm away from her chest.
Clarisse scowled as Lee woked. Luke had never met such a stubborn kid. In his life. Except maybe from Thalia, and even then it would be a fair match.
Luke wasn't head counselor, that role went to his older sister, June, who was eighteen years old and Problem avoidant supremeTM. Luckily, she would age out of Camp soon, and he could actually get the position seeing as he was the one doing all the work anyways.
So, yeah, he took care of his siblings, helped with duties, bla, bla, long story short, he was the one who actually tended to the unclaimed. Most of them were fine, either newbies (usually former street rats, shy kids and discreet all in all), or the older ones that had lived in the Hermes cabin long enough that they were probably more capacitated than Luke to be head counselors. Even the newbies with the worst tempers were fun. It usually only took a kind smile and the promise of safety for them to try their best.
But, from time to time, there came a walking nightmare, aka, in this case, Clarisse LaRue.
Nine years old. Fucking asshole. Insufferable. She had arrived last week, in company of Gleeson Hedge of all satyrs. Luke would pay to see how that trip went. The point was that now she was in the Hermes cabin and was making Luke's life absolutely miserable. She always got into fights. Always snuck out. And she hated him.
That was his biggest problem, honestly. Because see, he was a Hermes kid (ew, he knew), and thus was no stranger to rule breakers. If he scolded the Stolls everytime they snuck out in the middle of the night, or if he grounded Charlie each time they stole from the other cabins, he wouldn't have time to do litteraly anything else. The difference lay in the fact that they loved him. Or at least liked him well enough.
Sure, Travis was a thief and a pickpocket. But if Luke asked gently enough he would listen to him and give wathever he had stolen back.
Connor was a liar and a manipulator (yes, he was also six, one thing didn't exclude the other), but if Luke called him out on it, he would feel guilty enough to confess.
And Chris was angry, yes, but if Luke asked him to be patient and just wait for the right- it didn't matter. The point was clear.
Clarisse, on the other hand, hated him. She loathed him for no apparent reason. He had tried everyting. Every trick on the book, every bribe imaginable, he had been nothing but kind and yet she still. Despised. Him.
So, yeah. Clarisse snuck out, caused trouble, got herself hurt, and when he tried to help, she spat on his face.
...Literally. She, uh, had done that. Twice.
To top it all off, she was also a bully.
Luke wouldn't usually decline a challenge. But this? This wasn't a challenge. Connor had been a challege. Alabaster had been a challenge. Clarisse was a punishment from the fucking gods. Honestly, Luke's only hope was that she was claimed soon enough by a god that wasn't Hermes so that she bacame someone else's problem.
When Lee finished patching her up, Luke was quick to put a hand on her shoulder so she wouldn't run off again. She sneered at him.
"Okay, thanks Lee, Clarisse let's go." He said, tilting his head towards the door. She followed begrudgingly. As he opened the door, he turned to his friend and shaped his hand into a gun, pressing it to his temple and then mimicked shooting it. Lee rolled his eyes fondly. Luke counted it as a win.
The Camp was mostly empty, since everybody was still playing capture the flag. Really, it kinda pissed him off to miss the game because of Clarisse, but, ah... what could he do.
As they got to the cabin, she stormed inside angrily. He closed the door behind them, relishing in the few seconds of peace he got before turning to face the moster, maybe he could talk to her and actually make some progress-
Something sharp made impact with his face, sending his backwards, his mind exploded with white hot pain. He took a hand to his face, registering the blood on his fingers, stunned. He looked at the object that was now on the floor and then back up at Clarisse. "Did you- did you just throw a fucking dumbell at me?! Oh- ugh- stop it!" He objected as he dodged another weight sent his way. This little fucker- It had been a light dumbell, luckily, but still. Damnit, it burst his lip!
...Okay.
Okay.
He took a deep breath.
"You like to fight, don'tcha?" He asked, wiping blood away from his lip. Lee would fix it later. Clarisse, if it was possible, scowled even more from the corner she had tucked herself in. "Fuck you." She cursed him away. Right. Luke mauled over the situation. Maybe he could end up winning after all.
See, Clarisse was a brat. But every brat had a cause for their brattiness. And, with a child this young... well, life wasn't kind to demigods. From the moment she had stepped foot into Camp, she had fought. Her satyr had laughed it off, telling Luke that she had a 'mighty temper'. She had clearly fought her way to Camp; when she arrived, she was covered in bruises and monster dust. Her only weapon a tiny kitchen knife somehow tipped in celestial bronze. A blade she had been holding tightly in her tiny fist. And now she was fighting her way through Camp.
She lashed out a lot, but her bark was way worse than her bite, he had come to learn. She wasn't a... violent soul. It was just probably the only thing she had know until now. Maybe the only way to make herself respected.
It was clear that she didn't want to leave. She would've snuck out days ago if that was the case, and with the amount of kids in the cabin, no-one would've noticed until at least a day later, which was really more time than she needed to dissapear.
So, she didn't want to leave, but didn't let anyone get near enough to actually get to know her, stricking before the enemy did. Huh. That was actually a pretty obvious coping mechanism that he somehow hadn't noticed until now. He was an idiot. Clarisse was just protecting herself from getting hurt.
...Okay. He- he could work with that.
He just had to make her feel protected- no, more than that, he had to give her the skills she needed to be able to protect herself. That was really the only way she would feel at ease. Still, it wasn't as if she would be open to gentleness or kindness anytime soon, so...
"Did you know that I'm the best swordsman this Camp has ever seen?" He asked. That was a lie. Don't take him wrong, he was good! Certanly one of the best, just... not the best. That title still went to Terry Douglas from cabin nine. It wouldn't for long, though, if Luke had any say in it.
Clarisse all but laughed at his face. "...You're not." She said, although her tone seemed a little hesitant.
That was all he needed, really.
"I am, though! Best swordsman in five hundred years." He exaggerated. "Maybe ever, actually." He slid down the door, ending up sitting back pressed to it.
Clarisse raised an eyebrow. She was almost at the other end of the cabin, but since it was dead silent apart from them, they didn't have to raise their voices that much to be heard. "...Congrats?" She deadpanned, tone making very clear that she didn't believe him. Luke smirked mentally.
"Makes sense you wouldn't know about it, though, since you refuse to train with us. They make me teach the newbies." He said off handedly.
Clarisse's jaw clentched a little at the comment. "...For real?" She grumbled, clearly at battle with herself, based on her expression.
Luke sighed, like it was a massive inconvenience. "Yeah. Well, obviously I don't teach them everything I know, that would just be dumb." He added, that was... half true half false. He did teach swordfight, but only the basics, it was a lot on the newbies' plate anyways, for him to add complicated techniques would be way too complicated.
But this... gatekeeping mentality, striving to be better than others seemed to be Clarisse's modus operandi. So, maybe if she could relate to him in some way, she would trust him more.
This was the longest conversation he had had with her yet without getting punched or told to go fuck himself. So, he counted this as a win.
"But you seem pretty good at fighting. It's a shame you don't come to the classes." He commented.
"I don't need classes." She was quick to sneer. "I can kick everyone's ass." She grumbled.
"Sure." Luke agreed easily. "It would just have been fun to have someone there who could actually hold their own. Most of the newbies can't even grip a sword right, much less do some of the tricks I know." He said in a sly tone. Clarisse probably hadn't touched a sword in her life, still, it wasn't as if she would admit that.
"...Which tricks?" She grumbled quietly. Luke raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh, no, don't worry about it, I'm sure you're doing well on your own just fine, I'd be wasting your time by showing you."
He was laying it on thick, he knew, but Clarisse wasn't dumb. Showing some sarcasm or making her think that he actually did want to teach her but was a little offended by her attitude may be good in the long run.
Clarisse's jaw clentched in anger, but her eyes wondered away. "...No." She forced out. "I want to learn. Teach me." She spat the phrase like an insult. She clearly wanted it to be taken as one despite the actual message she was sending. Luke could've laughed.
"Fine." He agreed without putting up a fight. He got up, dusting himself off. Clarisse looked at him with a confused frown. "Well," he said as he opened the door. "You coming or what?"
Clarisse staggered for a beat before rushing past him towards the training arena.
_____________________
Luke had been right. Clarisse had clearly never held a sword in her life.
He didn't comment on it, though, as he made a show of gripping his sword the exact way it was required, and not in his own practiced way. He acted as if he didn't spot the obvious way Clarisse mimicked his grip, her eyes alternating quickly between her hands and his. When he was sure that her grip on the weapon was good enough, he made a few twirls (he wanted to show off a little. Sue him) before standing to face her in a battle stance.
Clarisse immitated him perfectly. This came naturally to her, it would seem.
"Ready?" He asked. She didn't even nod before fully charging at him. He avoided her first swing easily. The second one was a bit harder, the third one, he had to block.
Clarisse didn't pause. It was attack after attack after attack- and while that may have worked on a less experienced swordsman, for Luke it was childsplay (litterally. She was nine), especially since he was fast enough to actually block the unrelenting attacks.
After some time he decided un unarm her, her sword went flying to the right. He expected her to at least pause, but apparently she wouldn't give him that grace. She lounged at him barehandedly. He avoided her, and as she passed beside him, he gave her a little swap at the back of the head to make her tumble forward.
He may not have calculated the strength of his hit very well because Clarisse fell over herself, face splatting on the dirt.
...Damn it.
"Shit, are you okay?" He asked, going over to where she was already getting up. She grumbled something under her breath that he couldn't quite make out as she turned to him, but she stomped over to where her failed sword lay a few feet away.
She picked it up with a fierce expression. "Again." She ordered. Luke smiled and obliged.
After a few more rounds, she disarmed him. She had picked up the technique after about three times of Luke using it. On her first swipe, she feigned a stab motion that he blocked and instead sent his sword out of his hand.
...Impressive.
As soon as he was unarmed, he put his hands up in surrender. She scowled, her sword still pressed to his chest. "I surrender." He said. "Another match?" He asked. She nodded after a beat.
He let her disarm him a few more times. Not that she needed that much practice, her form was almost perfect.
After about a few hours, people started passing by, which meant that capture the flag was over. It also meant that it had been a long, probably interestiong game. That Luke had missed.
Ugh.
Some campers sent curious looks their way, but none approached. By the end of the afternoon, Clarisse knew how to:
1. Hold a sword.
2. Disarm an adversary.
3. Upper parry.
4. Lower parry
It usually took newbies about a week or two to be able to do all of these, and Clarisse already mastered them, sword swinging and lounging in a seemingly practiced motion.
Luke didn't like to assume a newbie's godly parent... but, well.
This one was pretty obvious.
About four hours into training, Luke's arms already ached and would be so sore the next day. Despite this, Clarisse didn't seem tired in the slightest.
"Again." She repeated. It was what she said after they finished a round. This time, Luke hesitated.
"It's already pretty late, and we shouldn't miss dinner with all the training we did." He said, making sure that he didn't mention that Clarisse was probably tired and should rest. "You know, so we don't feel weak tomorrow." He added, just to make sure.
Clarisse nodded hesitantly. "Then, tomorrow we keep fighting?" She asked hopefully.
Luke considered it, he was pretty tired and tomorrow it'd only be worse, but he couldn't pass on this opportunity.
"I'll train you tomorrow..." He started, Clarisse's face brightened a little at that, and it made him kind of sad to have to crush that look, "...if you don't spar with Michael." He finished off, looking her face contort in anger.
Michael was great with a bow. He had pinpoint accuracy, an annoying trait during capture the flag. But... he was short. And rather scrawny. And Clarisse was a good fighter, even if she was a newbie.
If they sparred in close-combat as it was required, Clarisse would kick Michael's ass so badly she would send him to the moon.
It was a wonder Lee had even agreed in the first place, maybe he was upset at his brother for something, and used this as an opportunity to punish him, or it was just a testment that showed how annoying Clarisse could be, even to a guy like Lee Fletcher.
"You know you'll kick his ass." Luke said. At this, Clarisse's face softened a little. "And listen, you know Lee? The infirmary guy?" He waited for her to nod. "He's my best friend. And Michael's brother." He leaned in, in a secretive stance. Surprisingly, Clarisse didn't back away. She was actually listening. "So, if Michael gets hurt, Lee would be really sad. And if Lee's sad, I'd be sad too." He said. Clarisse frowned, probably ready to tell him to go fuck himself. But then she paused.
"...Too sad to train?" She asked, as if the idea was absurd.
Luke nodded grimly.
"That's some fucked up codependency issues." She said, crossing her arms. The comment startled him enough that he snorted, covering his face with his free hand. She looked equally as surprised as he was by his own reaction, but recovered quickly. "Fine." She spat. "But I get to play capture the flag." She bargained.
She actually started to bargain with him, he was the shit at bargaining, there was no possible scenario in which she'd win- Not that she knew that. Since she was a nine year old. Luke sighed.
"Sure." He conceded, contradicting her now would only bring trouble. And he'd like to think that picking a fight with a child was below him, at least for now.
She didn't stall after that, throwing her sword absently at the armery before rushing over to the dinning pavilion. Luke followed soon after.
...Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.
______________________
Fast forward two weeks later, Clarisse was still unclaimed, and raging about it. She was still training with Luke, although not every single day, since she had actually taken upon attending the actual classes. She had been eyeing the spears as of late rather than the swords, and Luke had managed to let Bobby; five's head counselor, know about the fact that 'Newbie's defenetly yours.' In the form of a mutter while he passed by the other boy.
Bobby hadn't answered directly, instead calling Clarisse over to challenge her to a swords match. A match she had absolutely owned if you took into account that she was fighting a guy three times her size and twice her age. Luke had been so fucking proud.
Bobby still won, he wasn't the kind of guy to go easy on someone. But as they left the arena, he whispered to him that 'Yeah, she's one of us, alright.' In his thick southern drawl.
So, yeah. Cabin five was ready for her. And she was most defenetly ready for cabin five. Luke had heard her correct a fourteen year Ares guy on his technique. And the guy actually listened.
The only person who seemed to disagree was... Ares. The god that controlled the whole thing.
So, that sucked.
"Again." She spat, picking up her spear from the ground. It was the first time she tried the weapon, and she clearly had a knack for it. Luke had had to up his game a little.
"Break?" He proposed. At least now she wasn't so opposed to the idea of actually taking care of herself. Luke was reallyyy trying to show that resting didn't equal weakness, which... was difficult considering the little amount of healthy coping mechanisms that could be found around Camp. But he tried.
Clarisse nodded once. She didn't exactly like him now, but Luke thought that she respected him.
At least enough for him to comment about her behaviour and not get punched.
...He hoped, at least.
"So..." He began. Clarisse was his kid for now. Yes. But he wouldn't lie and say he didn't play favorites. And if a newbie was mean to his favorites? Yeah, that wouldn't go over well.
"You know, I was talking with the Stolls the other day." He commented, noting her reaction. Only a scowl, standard enough, since she didn't really like anybody except from maybe William Solace for some unexplicable reason.
"Connor says you punched him." He went straight to the point, he figured she would appreciate it more. Connor was six years old. He could be annoying but he was number two on Luke's List of FavoritesTM, and that was saying something, alright.
"Yeah." She said dismissively. Her tone making it seem like she was expecting for him to continue.
"You- you can't do that, Clarisse." She was still young, but if she continued to act this way towards others...
Let's just say that this behaviour may be encouraged in cabin five. But if Ares wasn't going to claim her, Luke would raise this kid his way.
"He teased me." She was quick to reply without much emotion to it.
Luke paused. Well... that- that wasn't too difficult to believe, unfortunately. The Stolls, especially Connor had troubles with boundaries and sometimes hurt others without meaning to.
"What did he say?" Luke asked. He hoped it wasn't too bad. Still, then he could expand on the fact that she shouldn't have answered with violence-
"Said? Wh- no. He teased me. With a teaser, dumbass." She corrected, looking at him like he was dumb. Ah. She had meant tasered. That tracked. "He's way too scared of me to insult me." She scoffed. "I just mean that we're even now, so it's fine." She drank from her water bottle.
"See, Clarisse, this is what I'm talking about, you can't go around scaring people so they do what you want." He said sternly. Because not only had she bullied Connor at some point, Luke had also gotten complaints from favorite number three, AND number one. Which was difficult to forgive. He would try to find it in his heart, though.
"As if you're any better." She muttered. And, hold on, what?
"What do you mean?" He asked with curiosity, trying not to show his utter indignation at the implication.
"You buy people's favor. At least I'm not a hypocrite." She raised an eyebrow.
Luke did not buy-
Holy shit.
He- he didn't buy people's favor. He didn't. He just... sometimes gave gifts to win them over. Or, uh, services. That wasn't- it wasn't buying.
...Right?
He gaped at the kid for a few beats, trying to find a suitable answer. He thought back at how he had given Connor candy baskets and let him skip on his chores until he warmed up to Luke under the excuse that 'he was still geting used to Camp' just beacause he couldn't stand the fact that one of his siblings didn't like him. At how he had helped Lee out in the infirmary not out of the goodness of his heart but because he had thought that being friends with a medic would be useful.
Of course, now he appreciated both Connor and Lee as their own persons and valued their friendships. But... had it started like that?
After all, hadn't he started giving sword classes to Clarisse because he wanted her to be less annoying?
Hadn't it worked, too?
Clarisse smiled smugly. She clearly thought she had won some sort of unspoked competition. Which... wasn't that far off.
"...That's- You're making it sound way worse than..." He trailed off, how- he-
Had he gotten ouwitted by a nine year old?
Clarisse scoffed and got up, dusting her knees "Again." She called over, picking up her spear.
Luke, not really knowing what else to do, obliged.
...Maybe he should try to make more friends just for the sake of it.
Not Clarisse, though. She was kind of an asshole.