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The new kid, in Luke’s opinion, was strange. This wasn’t a bad thing, of course; all demigods were strange. What made him strange enough for Luke to say anything was his affinity for his coat.
A heavy fur coat that dragged behind Percy’s heels when he wore it, which was all the time. There wasn’t a moment when Percy wasn’t wrapped in that thing: breakfast, sword lessons, canoeing, arts and crafts; he even slept in it. In any other case, Luke wouldn’t have cared. The boy had just lost his mother; for all Luke knew, the coat could have been hers. The issue was that the others had noticed.
The kids in Cabin 11 were regarded as the lowest of the low. A cabin full of rejects and unlovable freaks. Luke loved his kids, but he also knew how ruthless they could be with the newbies. Many of them had tried to steal the Minotaur horn from Percy on his first night, but the boy had bite, and wasn't willing to let his spoil go. Normally the children would lose interest after a week, but Percy’s attachment to his coat had rekindled their malicious curiosity. It had gotten so bad that Luke needed to keep Percy separated from the others for his safety.
Luke sat on the front steps of the Hermes cabin; inside, he could hear the chaos of his siblings as they all fought, teased, and pranked amongst one another. Luke loved them, truly, but they were exhausting.
“Luke!”
Looking up, Luke couldn't fight the smile that overcame him. Percy was running up to him, his fists clutching the ends of his coat so it wouldn't drag through the dirt.
“Hello, Percy.” Luke spread his arms, certain that Percy’s excitement would lead him to where it usually did.
“Luke, guess wha—ahh!” Percy’s coat slipped from his grip and was pinned under his foot, sending him into a sudden pitch towards the ground.
Stepping up from his sitting position, Luke caught Percy before he faceplanted with the ground. “You ought to be more careful. I’m starting to think that you’re doing this on purpose.”
Percy blushed, pulling the collar of his coat over his face. “Sorry, Luke.”
“It’s okay, Percy. I’m only teasing.” Luke helped Percy regain his balance, rubbing his fur-covered arms. “Just travel a little slower, yeah?”
Percy nodded, sneaking around Luke and disappearing behind the cabin door.
Luke clicked his tongue, digging the toe of his sandal in the dirt. Percy was such a sweet boy; it was awful how he was treated.
Kicking at the grass beneath his feet, Luke cut through camp to the Art and Crafts center where Charles Beckendorf was leading a group of classes through a woodworking class.
“Beck!” Luke waved his arm, calling for his attention.
“Yo, Luke!” Beckendorf patted one of his sisters on the shoulder, nearly sending her face first into the crafting table.
Charles Beckendorf, despite being Luke’s junior, was easily one of the tallest and sturdiest kids at camp. Being a child of Hephaestus, he spent most of his time in the camp forges, repairing armour, making weapons, or generally tinkering away, making his arms thick with well-defined muscles that were awfully intimidating if you didn’t know just how big of a sweetheart he was.
“What free labor are you and the guys doing today?” Luke nodded his head away from the crafts center, leading him away from his group.
“Rocking chairs. Mr. D broke his last one and is making us build a new one. I figured I could turn it into a learning opportunity for the children.” Beckendorf shrugged. Luke understood; Chiron and Dionysus often used its inhabitants for unpaid labor. They saw it as something to keep the kids busy so they didn’t run around killing one another from boredom.
“It’s like he breaks one every month. I can’t say I’d like to be in your shoes.”
“Oh, whatever, Luke Castellan, instructor of every camp activity in New York. Weren’t you just telling me that Chiron had you filing property taxes last month?”
“Don’t remind me; he wants me to do it again next year.” Being the oldest at camp meant that Chiron expected him to take up all the unwanted jobs. Meaning, on top of raising a cabin of 20+ children, Luke was also in charge of sword fighting lessons, camp tournaments, guidance counselor, tax expert, and much more. All while, of course, being faithful to the gods.
“You deserve a vacation, man. If you want, I’ll stash you in our cabin bunker. Say that you got eaten by a harpy.” See? What an absolute sweetheart.
“Thanks, Beck. I’ll have to look into that offer, but right now I’ve got a different favor in mind.”
Beckendorf pulled a memo pad out of his trust forge apron and flicked to a clean enough page. “Lay it on me, man; can’t promise it’ll be a fast finish. Clarisse has been bothering me about her shield.”
Luke sighed. He was more than certain that there was nothing wrong with Clarisse’s shield and she was just looking for an excuse to bother Beckendorf. Very middle school of her. “It shouldn’t be anything too complicated. I need a safety box big enough to fit a fur coat.”
Beckendorf squinted his eyes. “A safety box big enough to fit a fur coat? This isn’t for that new kid, is it? The one who’s always dressed for the winter?”
“Yeah. I’m not one to hate on a kid for owning a comfort item, but the others are getting rough with him over it.”
“Damn, poor thing. I’ll see what I can do; just give me a few days.” Beckendorf pocketed his pad, nodding his head.
“Thanks, Beck, this means a lot to me.” Luke squeezed Beckendorf’s arm, waving him goodbye as he turned back to his craft group.
Luke cast his gaze to the beach. For the past three days, a slick white creature has been roaming the waters. It stayed far enough from shore that Luke didn't feel obligated to bring it up to Chiron, and it swam away whenever the beach got busy.
It just watched.
Luke had tried asking the naiads about it, but they seemed more than eager to try and talk Luke's into circles about what the creature was.
"Such a cutie he is. Awful fate though."
"Awful, awful. Poor pup."
"He gets stuck sometimes, but we help him."
If it wasn't bothering them, then Luke would let it be.
When Beckendorf cornered him in the arena, Luke was glad that his class had been practicing with a wooden weapon. "Charles! What have I told you about sneaking up on people?"
Luke took the wooden sword from the trembling hands of a son of Demeter. He had come to camp three weeks ago and was still nervous about everything.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just wanted to drop this off before I forgot." Beckendorf extended the object he was cradling towards Luke; a proud smirk split his face as he watched Luke examine the chest.
The chest looked like something Luke would keep a long instrument in. It was a foot wide and four feet long, but only nine inches tall. Just small enough to kick under one of the bunks without taking too much space. The wood used was dark, and when Luke knocked on the top, he figured it must have been thick too. Walnut, maybe; Beckendorf mentioned having some lying around. Celestial bronze was melted and reshaped into swirling designs along the sides of the box, meeting at the center where a bronze latch and what looked like a finger scanner kept the box firmly shut.
"This is beautiful, Charlie. You really outdid yourself." Luke patted Beckendorf on the shoulder, carefully balancing the long box in his free arm.
"Hell, man, it was no problem. It was getting sad, watching that poor boy get picked on," Beckendorf clicked his tongue. He had a cousin Percy's age, if Luke remembered correctly. "The boy just lost his Mom, too. The last thing he needs is more problems."
"I'll make sure to send him your well wishes. Thank you again, man."
"Anytime, Luke." Beckendorf smiled at Luke as he took his leave. A charming thing.
Luke would have to talk to his master about keeping him safe.
When Percy came running to the edge of the forest for his sword lessons with Luke, he was covered in sand.
"Percy? Were you at the lake or something?" Luke plucked a piece of seaweed out of Percy's damp mop of hair.
"I went for a swim!" Percy grinned at look, beaming as if to rival the sun.
"How far down did you go? "
Percy shrugged; his coat looked heavy. Did Percy get in the water with his coat? "I don't know. I played with the naiads mostly."
Well then, that explained the plants.
"Make sure to be careful out there, Percy; the naiads are mischievous. I don't want you getting hurt."
Percy pouted, kicking at the grass beneath them like a scolded toddler. "I won't get hurt. They're nice to me, nicer than the others."
Luke could almost feel Percy's own grief shred at his heart. How could anyone be cruel to a boy as sweet as him? Whoever Percy's father was, Luke hoped the bastard would rot in Tartarus for the rest of his life.
"I'm sorry, Percy. I wasn't trying to imply anything; I just want you to be safe. I care about you too."
Percy choked, a wet, clapping sound, if Luke had to describe it, caught them both by surprise. Percy's face was a deep crimson red; Luke was beginning to fear that Percy would throw up or faint.
"Coat!" Percy shouted, jumping back from the intensity of his speech.
"What?" Luke reached out to grab Percy's shoulder; the poor boy looked ready to explode.
"Take it! Want you to guard it!" Percy fought to get his arms out of his sleeves, nearly sending himself stumbling onto the ground. Once he finally managed to get the massive blanket of fur off him, he all but threw it at Luke. "You love me, so you have to keep it!"
Luke blinked. Then he blinked again. A dream, he thought; this is a dream.
Percy was huffing, his little chest rising and falling under his camp shirt. Distantly, Luke realized that this was the first time he'd seen Percy without his coat on. Luke had thought the mountain of fur was what made Percy appear so tiny, but that was far from the case. If anything, the coat had tricked Luke into thinking he was bigger. Percy was scrawny; painfully little for a twelve-year-old boy.
This? This is who Clarisse had tried to drown in the camp bathrooms?
"Percy, baby, I can't. You don't have to give this up; you don't owe me anything—"
"Take it. You can protect it." Percy looked like he wanted to take his coat back more than anything, like being away from it made him physically sick, but the desperation in his voice made Luke hesitate before giving it back. "Please, Luke."
Luke ran his hands down the fur, marveling at how soft it was. Even though it was still damp from Percy's swim in the ocean, the fur glided through his fingers like a woolly oil spill.
Luke folded the coat so it would stop spilling out of his arms and onto the grass. "Okay. I'll watch it. This is actually great timing; I just had Beckendorf commission something for you." Luke pulled the walnut chest out from behind the tree he had been leaning on, popping the lid open.
"What?" Percy took a cautious step to the chest, poking one of the bronze swirls on the side of it.
"I figured sooner or later you'd want to hide her away, so I asked Beckendorf to make you this." Luke carefully laid the folded coat into the chest, rubbing a hand down Percy's knobby spine.
"You got this for me?" Percy's blush was now back with a vengeance. From the loose collar of his camp shirt, Luke was able to peek that the red heat of his face traveled low down his chest.
"Yep. It's print and key protected," Luke flashed Percy the golden key that had come with the chest. "So how about this. I'll keep the key, and you keep the prints. That way we can both protect it."
Percy blinked at Luke, his delicate yet long lashes kissing his rosy cheeks. Something seemed to pass through them the longer they sat there, crouched in front of Percy's greatest treasure. Something ancient and soul-tying.
"Okay, Luke." Percy shyly closed the chest, pressing his thumb to the holographic print scanner. When the screen turned green and a locking sound was heard, Luke re-applied the lock, tucking the key into his pocket to hide it later.
Percy whimpered, but didn't ask Luke to give him his coat back; the two of them sat in silence, the midday sun setting over their backs.
Two weeks later, during that week's game of Capture the Flag, Luke could only watch in horror as Percy was claimed as the Son of Poseidon. The coat and the sea creature were finally starting to make sense.