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Chapter Text

Patronage for Athens was desired by the Earth-shaker and the Grey-eyed goddess. Thus a contest overseen by King Cecrops was designed; the winner would be the city’s patron. With one swift strike of the earth with his mighty trident, a salt water spring was created; though beautiful, the gift was met with little joy from the people of Athens.

Athena produced the first olive tree; its use for timber or olive oil was met with fine cheers. As Athena was named winner, before gods and men, a young goddess spring fully formed from the salt water spring; her arms outstretched towards Poseidon crying “Father, Father!”

Mortal affairs were dull on a good decade. 

Godly affairs were interesting at best and earth shattering at worst. 

This contest to be patron of a city between Athena and Poseidon had to be the most boring experience in all of his godly existence; Apollo rolled his eyes and looked to the heavens with bored expression and cursed his father for making him babysit in all but name a challenge as stupid as this.

If his sister and uncle were given weapons and told to fight it out, sure, Apollo would be more invested than he was right now. He might even place some bets with Hermes and Ares on a winner.

Apollo watched on in feigned interest as he watched his Lord Uncle fashion a beautiful fountain of coral found in only the depths of his realm. His uncle looked proud of his creation and it was worth the pride; a grand fountain with sparkling, clear blue water gushing over shimmering and sleek stone. 

And was it his imagination or was Athena actually worried?

As soon as he met her eyes, her gaze hardened as she fashioned twigs together and planted a knobby looking tree with a thick base and strange looking fruit no bigger than a pebble. The tree sprouted and produced a long shadow; providing shade from Helios’ chariot.

The king - Apollo didn’t care to remember his name - took a bite out of the fruit. 

“It is sweet. What do you call this fruit?” He asked. 

“An olive. You can make oil from its fruit and use the timber for lumber.” Athena looked proud of her creation. 

“And this spring, it is beautiful, but the water, can we drink?” He asked. 

“It is a salt water fountain.” Poseidon answered. 

A salt water fountain would be useful for healing and injuries, Apollo mused. Such a gift would be a great boon to a new city.

“If we cannot drink from the fountain, we have no use for it. I declare Lady Athena as the winner and the patron of the city.” The king announced. “Athens would be honored to have you as its patron, oh goddess.” 

A mortal could have assumed Poseidon’s calm features for acceptance of his loss; Apollo knew he was raging at the insult. He could sense the impending tidal wave of his uncle’s fury building.

Before anyone could speak further, from the very fountain Poseidon fashioned and brought forth, the most beautiful woman in the world rose from the water; her hair was dark as the night his sister preferred and the wet strands clung to her shoulders; the water droplets shone like pearls upon her seemingly sun kissed skin and if Apollo had the chance, he would lavish her with all the tender kisses just to make that phrase true; her eyes were as green as the sea, as green as Poseidon’s but they were full of melancholy, Apollo wanted to chase away whatever made a newborn goddess have such deep gaze; she was slender and lithe, smaller than nymphs and goddesses but when she grew, oh she would be beautiful. 

Apollo had felt love and lust before. 

At least, he thought he had.

This emotion that welled up deep in his chest was damn near overwhelming; nearly bringing Phoebus to his knees before such a beauty as this. 

Apollo would take her for his immortal wife; he would take no other lover but her. He would shower her with praise and all that was his to give if only to have her keep those beautiful eyes on him and him alone.

Looking upon the nymph, Apollo found he understood Aphrodite and her whims of the heart, deciding that for this stunning creature, Apollo would do anything to have her by his side even if neither could look upon the other for her sheer beauty was blinding. Even if he had to perform impossible tasks to win her hand and pay the exorbitant bride price that would surely be set by a father as protective as Poseidon.

Her eyes left him and Apollo wanted to cup her chin and turn her face back to him but as soon as her eyes landed on Poseidon, oh Styx her voice! He would give anything to hear her sing. He would play any instrument in the world for her if only to hear her voice harmonize with his lyre.

“Patéras?” Her eyes were full of relief upon seeing the sea god-of course, what daughter doesn’t feel comforted in the presence of her father? 

Though Apollo would patiently wait until the day that gaze was turned upon him. He was a god, he had all the time in the world. 

Poseidon turned to the nymph in the fountain; shock and confusion written on his face as the stunning creature called out to her father.

Before Poseidon could speak to the nymph, the King accused her of defiling the gift.

“If you could call that a gift.” Athena scoffed. 

The nymph shrunk under Athena’s harsh words. Her hands fiddling with the wet fabrics of her peplos in embarrassment. 

Apollo wanted to talk the nymph’s hands and lavish praises upon her until she radiated brighter than the sun for how dare this mortal and his sister berate her so. 

“A surprise to be sure, but a happy one. A daughter is a gift far more precious than fountains or olives Athena. You would be wise to remember that.” Poseidon’s voice was cold.

A crack of lightning and a clash of thunder rolled from the clouds as Zeus himself appeared; while few of the council were here to witness the event, many stayed upon Olympus to view the contest. 

The mortals dropped to their knees and bowed in reverence to the king of the gods. 

Zeus looked at the nymph in the fountain and nodded appreciatively; Apollo felt fury boil in his blood as the nymph wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to shield her body from his gaze. 

Zeus wouldn’t dare try anything to the nymph with her Earth-shaker father so near. 

And if Apollo had to grovel, it would be worth it to have his nymph all to himself and untouched by Zeus, his lord father. 

“I would have thought that any child born of you and my daughter would be a monstrosity but it would appear I was wrong.” Zeus leered at her. 

“Athena is not my mother.” The nymph denied. 

“No?” Zeus eyed her up and down. “A contest between gods to determine the city, the city now named after my daughter; who else would be your mother? You do not get your beauty from your father.”

The nymph stood defiant before the King of the gods. “Athena is not my mother.” 

Poseidon stepped forward and brandished his trident with a flourish. “I claim this fountain child as mine; she has no mother as she has been brought forth from my fountain’s waters alone.”

The sea god took off his cloak of blue waves and placed it on his daughter’s shoulders and leveled a look with Zeus that threatened war if he came anywhere near the unnamed nymph. 

A beautiful woman with no name; Apollo needed to know so he could write songs about her. He needed to know who to call out in his poetry. What would he call her when “beloved” and “dearest” and “mine” were not enough?

Apollo would have to come up with a convincing proposal if he was ever going to get Poseidon to agree to a marriage. Though his uncle Hades had a rather effective proposal to Persephone, Apollo would rather not start his with a kidnapping and an unhappy in-law.

“Very well, brother. What is the name of this new goddess?” Zeus asked. 

Oh, of course! Could this beauty be anything but? 

It was so painfully obvious. 

This was no mere nymph that had rendered him speechless with her beauty, she was a goddess.

“I am no goddess.” The not nymph said, causing the four Olympians to turn to her. 

“Impossible.” Athena said. 

No, she couldn’t be-

“My child, you are god born, you have no mortal mother. You are a goddess.” Poseidon said.

The nymph then reached up and sliced her hand on the sharp ribs of her father’s trident. Her divine blood sunshine ichor dripped down her father’s weapon and the wound in her open palm. 

Poseidon jerked the weapon away from the immortal girl; startled that she would so willingly draw her own blood; appalled that his own daughter would do so with his own weapon. 

Apollo was about to rush forward and heal her himself with Poseidon wrapped the waters of the fountain around her palm and healed the cut.

“She’s purely divine.” Athena breathed. “The rejection of the fountain must not have stopped her ascent to godhood. She is strong to have persisted in such rejection. Fascinating. Father, God King, while this was unforeseen, unplanned, and despite the father of this new goddess, I claim the new goddess as my child.” 

“No!” Poseidon scooped the fountain containing the goddess up in his arm while holding the trident out as a warning to Zeus; the goddess looked like a doll for a child in the god’s embrace. “I will take my daughter back to my court. She is of the sea and is therefore mine.” He said before leveling a look of pure loathing to Athena. “You took Pallas from us, you will not take my daughter from me too; congratulations Athena. You are now the patroness to a city of fools.”

Poseidon was gone and Apollo realized he hadn’t gotten the fountain girl’s name.

///

Poseidon disappeared with the lingering scent of the sea with the unnamed child in his arms.

His domain reflected his emotions; anger over losing, fear for his daughter’s fate, uncertainty for her future, fierce protectiveness over her and he hadn’t even known her more than a few moments. 

And with the spurning of the fountain spring, Athena’s bold claim was nothing more than a noose fashioned by the Athenians to be tightened around her neck. 

Poseidon wouldn’t allow it. 

Cradling his newest and youngest child in his arms, Poseidon appeared in the king and queen’s private quarters of their palace; he would introduce his queen to their new daughter before they presented her to the court. He would gift this daughter to Amphitrite before anything else. 

“It’s going to be alright, my little pearl.” Poseidon didn’t dare speak normally for fear of hurting his daughter with his godly voice. “Your true mother will be here shortly.” 

He watched as his daughter, his tragically newborn daughter, took in her surroundings and smiled softly at her wonder. 

“My lord husband?” Amphitrite had this power to just make all his worries melt with the sound of her voice. “I just heard you lost the contest for Athens, are you terribly upset?”

“I am, but not for reasons others think.” Poseidon took a deep breath and held his daughter closer. 

“My love, what do you-”

Poseidon turned and met Amphitrite’s questioning look before her eyes widened at the young woman in his arms. 

“-mean?” Poseidon could see all the scenarios and thoughts going through Amphitrite’s mind before she composed herself and asked, “who is this?”

“My queen, when I created the salt water fountain for the contest, it was all I meant to create. Just when Athena fashioned a tree and presented it to the king, the waters began to form and shift. When Athena was declared the patroness of Athens, the child’s ascent to godhood was thwarted and yet golden ichor flows through my daughter’s veins.” Poseidon said, taking great care not to squeeze his daughter too hard. 

Amphitrite pursed her lips and searched his eyes. Finding the truth, her gaze softened and she inspected the daughter in his arms. 

“She looks just like you.” She cooed, reaching a hand out to touch the dark hair floating around the girl. “She looks just like Pallas and your Queenly mother. May I hold her?”

Amphitrite held her arms out and Poseidon passed her the fountain child. His heart sank when he saw the uncertainty in his daughter’s eyes but calmed when Amphitrite positioned the girl on her hip and cooed sweet nothings to her. 

“What is her name, my darling?” Amphitrite asked. 

Poseidon opened his mouth to speak but the child beat him to it. 

“Perseleia, your grace.” She said before averting her eyes in shyness. 

“Perseleia,” Amphitrite mused before holding up the newborn goddess to look her in the eyes, eyes just like her darling husband. “Poseidon fathers heroes, but you Perseleia, shall be mine.”

Poseidon breathed out in relief.

“Athena will rue the day she won the city, I will see to that.” Amphitrite looked upon her new daughter in adoration. “Oh my sweet Perseleia, my darling youngest daughter, when your siblings come home, I shall introduce you to your brother and sisters with great joy.”

Poseidon didn’t want his wife’s newfound happiness shattered, but he had to warn her about the dangers of the other gods to their Perseleia.

“There is something else, Zeus seemed far too interested in her when she emerged from the fountain.” Poseidon said. 

“No.” Amphitrite, brought Perseleia to her chest and wrapped her in her arms. Her tail fluttered in the water betraying her worry. “He cannot have her.”

“Apollo as well.” 

“No. Forbid it! They would kill her!” Amphitrite begged. “My lord you cannot allow them near her!”

It was a tragic reality that newborn godesses were snatched into marriage or swore vows of virginity to retain their independence. Rhodes was barely a day old goddess when Helios took her for his queen. Persephone had some years with her mother before she was snatched away to be Queen of the Underworld. 

Perseleia wrapped her small arms around her mother’s neck and buried her face in Amphitrite’s hair. 

“She is safe so long as she remains here. No god can enter another’s domain without invitation.” Poseidon assured her. 

Amphitrite fixed Poseidon with a look. “She is our daughter. She is of the sea. In your realm she is safe but a gilded cage is still a cage. She will be lured to the surface and out of your protection or-”

Poseidon wrapped his arms around his wife and new daughter and kissed her forehead, just below her diadem of crab claws and shells. 

“Perseleia may go to the surface, so long as she has Triton or myself with her.” He compromised just this once.

“Marriage would keep her safest,” Amphitrite mused. 

It would make it harder for Zeus or Apollo to try anything, but marriage never stopped Zeus from getting what he wanted. At least she would be safe from -

“I don’t want to marry. At least, I would at least like to have the choice.” Perseleia said, her cheeks blushed at her interruption. 

Poseidon felt his resolve begin to break under her eyes, so like baby seals and otters. 

“Please don’t force me into marriage!” Tears started to well up in her eyes and his resolve crumbled. 

“Artemis. You’d be safe with the hunt and immortal for all time until we can learn what domains you have.” Poseidon agreed. 

“Her hunters can be killed. I don’t want to risk it.” Amphitrite argued. 

“If unmarried is what you want, then unmarried you shall remain.” Poseidon promised his daughter. “I will not force you into a marriage you do not want.” 

“Thank you father!” Perseleia shifted from her mother’s arms into his and hugged him fiercely. 

For one so small, she was oh so strong.

He couldn’t wait to see what kind of goddess she would become.

Chapter Text

In surprise, Poseidon gathered the new god-daughter in his arms and carried her back to his kingdom under the Aegean Sea to present her to his Blue-Eyed Queen. The Sea-Born Queen took her husband’s daughter into her arms and named her Perseleia and claimed her as her own daughter. 

Furious, Athena went to the God King Zeus and stated that since the goddess was formed after Athena was named winner of Athens, that the goddess should be her child, not Poseidon’s. 

It had been so long since Amphitrite had a young one to look after, to mother, but this darling child, this new goddess, was such a delight and easy to care for Amphitrite often found herself needing to be reminded that this was a baby who needed to be taught the ways of the sea and not centuries years old like her other children.

Needless to say, everyone at court adored her. The Atlanteans loved her. She was the darling of everyone they had ever met and already had most of the sea deities wrapped around her small finger.

Amphitrite’s only worry was that of her other children; it had been so long since they had another child around, that she worried they might have forgotten what it was like when there was a newborn god to be taught. 

Rhodes was not one to worry about; she had brought her own daughter over, the youngest of eight children, and only a few decades older than Perseleia herself. She had doted upon her youngest sister and introduced the two. Electryone was a shy one but within a few minutes of speaking to Perseleia, she had come out of her shell and was chasing after her aunt through the waves and the currents much to the delight of their mothers. 

Benthesikyme lived further from home as the Queen of Ethiopia and goddess of the deep swells and waves. When she first met her younger sister, the goddess froze and the name Pallas fell from her lips. Queen Benthesikyme could only look upon her sister with bittersweet fondness. 

Amphitrite worried of all her children the reactions of Kymopoleia and Triton the most. Kymopoleia was often unpredictable and Triton was sure to see the new goddess as an insult to the memory of his daughter who had died just over one hundred years ago.

For all her worries and fears, Kymopoleia and Triton surprised their mother.

Perseleia took one look at Kymopoleia and immediately drew up a storm to impress her older sister and beg to be tutored by her in the ways of hurricanes. 

“If our Queen mother allows it.” Kymopoleia looked at her mother with uncertainty in her eyes.

“Please, mother?” Perseleia begged, her eyes as pleading and as cute as the seals of the sea.

“So long as no one is hurt, I don’t see the problem of learning how to harness your divine talents.” Amphitrite smiled warmly at her daughters. 

Triton, after returning from Libya and his wife of the same name, was rather morose as since the death of their daughter Pallas, their marriage had become rather strained and more often than not, Triton would be found living at home with his mother and father than at Lake Tritonis where he lived with his wife and daughters. He had made his way to the training grounds to oversee the training of the guards when he felt eyes upon him. 

He turned and saw a girl with so many similarities to the daughter he lost but her hair was a conflicting current of black and white. 

She looked like the spitting image of his father. 

She looked like the spitting image of his daughter Pallas.

“Would you teach me?” She asked, shyly.

“Pardon?”

“You are skilled with blades and war craft. Would you teach me?” She asked, gaining courage.

“And why would you want me to teach you? The last two students I had, one was killed by the other.” Triton was becoming annoyed at the conversation.

The girl got a strange look in her eyes as she tilted her head. 

“Thunder Bringer feared your daughter’s victory. He distracted her with his shield so his daughter could claim victory. Athena’s grief over the incident will never fade.” She said with a far away gaze. 

Triton wanted to shake in fury. “Pallas… it was an accident?” 

“On Athena's part, yes.” 

"How do you know?"

"I saw it in a vision."

Triton wanted to scream, to shout, to rage. All this time, it was an accident? Just like she said? He needn't have had to lose two daughters that day?

“Will you teach me?” She asked again.

“Why do you want to learn?” Triton asked instead of giving an answer.

“So that I can protect myself and so I can protect those placed into my care.” She answered. 

“Do you have any in your care?” Triton asked. 

“Not yet.” She smiled. 

Triton found her to be exceptional at swordsmanship. 

///

While Poseidon was away in his court under the sea, Athena went before her father Zeus with a plea.

“Father, you witnessed that before gods and men, I won the city of Athens and with it the patronage of its people. With the declaration of King Cecrops, he declared my victory over my Lord uncle and you saw just as I that as soon as I was given Athens, the new goddess emerged from the fountain just as I emerged from your head.” Athena knelt before him in supplication. “Father, hear my plea. Return my daughter to me just as you returned Persephone to her mother. Deliver her please from my uncle’s seas so I may teach her and nurture the way my own mother could not.”

Athena watched as Zeus flinched and out of the corner of her eyes, saw Hera purse her lips at the mention of the previous Queen of the Heavens. 

She knew from the mention of Persephone, she would get her aunt Demeter on her side.

“The child you have despite never laying with a man? You, my virgin daughter, would wish to have a child?” Zeus raised his eyebrow, not quite swayed to her side.

“My vow remains: never do I wish to take back my vow of virginity, but a child being born of my thoughts just as I came from yours? Perhaps the time spent watching over my younger siblings has softened me to the idea of children. In the future, should I decide if I wish for more, they also shall be born of my thoughts.”

Zeus sighed in reluctance. 

“You plead your case, yet I heard clear as day the goddess called out to Poseidon as her father and denied you as her mother.”

“She is but a newborn goddess and was born in an unorthodox manner fully formed. She may not yet understand she has a mother.” Athena debated. 

“If I give into your pleas, if I take her from the seas and my brother and deliver her to you, will you claim this child of the fountain? Will you accept her deeds both good and bad as I accept you and your siblings' deeds?” Zeus asked. 

Athena nodded. 

“Then what name shall the new goddess be called, Athena? As her mother, it is your right.” Zeus asked. 

“Athenide, father. Her name shall be Athenide for she was born alongside Athens and will live as long as the city thrives.” Athena declared. 

“Then stand.” 

Athena stood before her father as he snapped his fingers. 

“Hermes, go to my brother and tell him to return the Athenide to her mother.” Zeus said.

Athena smiled in gratitude. “Thank you, father.”

Athenide!

Just the thought of her name sent shivers down Apollo’s spine.

He watched as Demeter led Athena away to teach her how to be a proper mother and caretaker but his thoughts were full of her.

The Athenide!

Her eyes green as the shallows of the Aegean. Bright and alert and oh so deep like the sea! Eyes he wanted to drown in. Eyes he wanted to get lost in. Eyes he wanted to wake up too every morning and gaze back at him with the same adoration he holds for her.

Stars decorating her bare skin in all the places he wanted to kiss and whisper words of devotion too. Skin that was warm under the sun and shone more beautiful than the pearls. Skin he would give anything to see dressed in the warm yellows and oranges he favored. 

Her voice sounded fearful as she called out to Poseidon and then changed like the tides into fool-hearted bravery as she spoke to Zeus the way she did. Apollo could tell she had a sharp tongue and he wondered what she would sound like as she sang? As she read his poems? Would she be sweet like the birds or full of laughter like Poseidon’s seals? 

What would she look like when she smiled? Impish and full of mischief or would she be serene and collected? What could he do to get the Athenide to smile at him?

He would make a wonderful husband to the goddess; he would serenade her with his music and poetry. He would smite any who would dare disparage her honor. He would share his bed with only her and love her with his whole being. He would name her his Queen, his equal, his highest of priestesses. He would name her his wife and repeat it again and again for all to hear. He would whisper her name like a prayer because she would be the only god he’d pray to. Never would he want for another lover when he would have the Athenide by his side. 

Apollo looked around at the other council seats before landing on Poseidon’s.

First he even had to petition his case to win her hand. He had a chance when it was just Poseidon alone he needed to convince but if he also had to convince Athena?

He needed to plan. 

Apollo left the throne room and reappeared in his temple. 

It was terrible to look into his own future, nothing made sense and there was a lot of death, but wouldn’t it be worth it just this once? Just to see if there would be hope that the Athenide would be his?

No. Apollo didn’t want to know.

Not knowing when or how he would woo his future bride was half the fun.

///

Hermes entered the sea and made his way to his uncle’s palace. The guards escorted him to the throne room where Poseidon and Amphitrite held court; Hermes could hardly believe the sight before his eyes: his uncle and his aunt were watching fondly as the Athenide helped the King and Queen with petitions. Easy petitions of the sea animals and creatures, but petitions nonetheless. 

Cleverness and beauty; Hermes could have fun with someone like her.

When his Uncle noticed his arrival, it seemed the water around him became colder. 

“Hermes, my nephew, only a few days old and cleverer than Athena. See how her intelligence shines as she cares for her people.” Poseidon said proudly.

Hermes grimaced at the dig towards Athena; his uncle was not going to be happy about this.

“I see this is serious, come forth nephew. What news do you bring?” Poseidon beckoned Hermes forward.

“Uncle, I bring an order from the lips of Zeus himself: he has commanded that you release the Athenide from your sea and deliver her to her mother Athena, for it was after her victory of Athens that the Athenide was born.” Hermes hoped his uncle didn’t skewer him with his trident. 

“Athena didn’t care for Perseleia when she thought she was a nymph; why should I relinquish my daughter to a goddess who wants her now that she is a goddess?” Poseidon said calmly.

Oh, Hermes did not like this. 

“Athena has petitioned Zeus for custody of the fountain goddess. He has agreed. Lord uncle, if you wish to keep your daughter, I’m afraid you are going to have to take it up with father and Athena.” Hermes bowed his head in apology.

He could feel the cold stares of everyone in the room and Hermes could handle it if not for the look of pure terror on the Athenide’s face.

Chapter Text

The Father of Horses and City-Protectress plead their cases to the God-King as to why they should have parentage over the new goddess. A long fought battle ended with the Thunder Bringer declaring equal share of the goddess’ parentage: six months with Athena Polias in Athens, six months in the sea with Poseidon Aegaeon. 

Never since Demeter’s grieving rage had there been such conflict between gods about a goddess. 

Never since Pallas daughter of Triton’s death had they seen Poseidon so furious.

“You can’t do this! She is my daughter! MINE!” Poseidon raged.

“She was born in Athens.” Athena stated. 

“Never did she leave the fountain! Her foot never touched soil! She denied your claim as her mother in front of the entire city!” Poseidon’s fist was clenched and surrounding his hands was a miniature hurricane. 

“I don’t see why you are in a tizzy; I was born of the sea and Uranos’ castrated balls. Jumping out of a fountain is not that different from jumping out of an open head wound.” Aphrodite stroked one of her doves.

“Be that as it may;” Zeus intervened, “the goddess was born after Athena was named the winner, after the city was named Athens. Athena has the greater claim.”

“Fuck her claim!” Poseidon stood from his throne. “The waters were from the heart of the ocean, from my own kingdom. My daughter has the salt and brine of the seas running through her veins and you expect me to give her up to the very goddess who killed my grandchild?”

“Pallas’ death was an accident!” Athena’s eyes glistened as unshed tears welled up in her eyes. “It was a friendly spar. I thought she would block or move but she was distracted by something.” 

“And will my daughter’s death be another ‘accident’ on your hands?” Poseidon snapped venomously. 

Athena said nothing. All the words she had said in regards to Pallas had fallen on deaf ears. What could she say now that would change her stubborn uncle’s heart?

“I would not harm my daughter.” Athena said after a moment. 

“She’s mine!” Poseidon’s storms were now spreading throughout the council room. “You stay away from her!”

“ENOUGH! I have had it with you two bickering like children over a toy. The next argument from either one of you and the girl doesn’t live with you at all. Is that clear?” Zeus thundered. 

The two fighting gods settled their tempers and turned to Zeus; stubbornness and pride flashing in grey and sea eyes. 

“Apollo, you are the god of truth, yes?” Zeus glared at Athena and Poseidon.

“I am, father.” Apollo did not meet anyone’s gaze but tried to focus on his sister’s silvery bow as she sat next to Athena.

“Then, did Poseidon present a fountain to the people of Athens?” 

“He-”

“Yes or no answers only.” Zeus said calmly but the storm upon Greece below betrayed how tempers were stretched far too thin. 

“Yes, father.” Apollo said.

“Did Athena present an olive tree to the people of Athens?”

“Yes, father.” 

“Was the new goddess born after Athena declared the winner and goddess of the city?”

“Yes, father.” 

“Was there sex involved in the goddess’ creation?

“No, father.” 

“Is Poseidon the father?”

“Yes, father.” 

“Is Athena the mother?”

Athena looked to her brother with pleading eyes. Poseidon looked to his nephew with a warning. 

Apollo could not deny the truth: Athena’s claim over the Athenide did make her the mother despite how angry it would be for his uncle to admit it.

Apollo turned to his father as he said the words, “yes, father.” 

Zeus raised his hand to silence the protestations from his brother and daughter.

“I don’t want to hear bargains, technicalities, or your opinions about the other as I have heard them all before. The truth of the Athenide is that Poseidon fathered her with his fountain and Athena mothered her with the city of Athens; my virgin daughter and my stallion brother have parented a child through no physical contact. Now that we have established parentage, where should she reside?” Zeus asked. “As a newborn, she should stay with Athena, her mother. Poseidon, she has been residing under the seas in the care of your wife as I understand. How does she fare in Amphitrite’s currents?”

“Amphitrite adores her. Within a few moments of meeting her, I would imagine Amphitrite would go to war should anything happen to her new daughter.” Poseidon said.

“New daughter?” Hera raised an eyebrow.

“I gave Perseleia to Amphitrite to sooth her anger; she had thought I laid with Athena. Upon relaying the truth to my Queen, she softened to our sweet little seal pup. Perseleia is hardly away from her mother’s side.” Poseidon said leveling a look to his Queen sister and Athena.

Perseleia Athenide!

A goddess of such divinity that no one can deny her beauty. 

A goddess that Apollo couldn’t wait for this divine custody battle to be over so he could present the proper bride price in exchange for Perseleia as godly bride.

Apollo’s eyes flicked over his fellow council members to gauge their reactions; Hera looked like she tasted something bitter, Demeter’s eye twitched, Zeus looked like he was nursing another headache that could produce another deity, Hestia looked intrigued upon her throne, Aphrodite looked bored, Hephaestus wasn’t paying attention, Ares seemed like he was enjoying the fighting so long as father’s fury was not directed at him, Hades looked annoyed he was pulled away from his limited time with his wife, Hermes was petting his two serpents while watching the chaos, Athena looked livid at the announcement she would have another contender for the title “mother”, and Artemis, Artemis looked hungry at the thought of getting another to join her hunt.

“So now she has two goddesses to contend for the name of “mother?” Zeus pinched his nose and sighed. 

“I claimed her before Amphitrite!” Athena snarled at Poseidon. 

“Athena!” Zeus snapped. “We will discuss that later; now, where shall the Athenide reside?”

“I have a solution.” Hestia raised her hand, her red and orange robes flickering like coals.

“Speak, Hestia. We would welcome your counsel.” Hera said. 

“Brother, when Persephone married Hades and Demeter demanded her daughter back, you brought them to a compromise; spring and summer with her mother, autumn and winter with her husband. I propose a similar arraignment with Perseleia.” Hestia’s warm eyes met her brother’s and her niece’s and with a single look, ceased their arguments. “It is not ideal or perfect, but it would give you each equal time with your daughter. Let Perseleia live in the seas with her father during the autumn and the winter months and when the spring comes again, Persephone and Hermes can escort her to Athena.” Hestia then turned to Hades and Hermes. “I believe Persephone would know how Perseleia would feel when it comes to departing one home for another.” Her gaze then turned to Demeter and Athena, “Perseleia would need a friend once she goes to her mother’s care. Persephone can be that friend and until Perseleia goes to be with Athena, Demeter and I can teach Athena how to be a mother so that she is not clueless when Perseleia arrives.” 

“And why wouldn’t I teach Athena how to be a mother?” Hera crossed her arms.

“No offense, sister, but Hestia was the one to calm our tears and raise us in father’s stomach. I would trust her not to throw my daughter off the damn mountain.” Poseidon said with full offense.

Before Hera could retort, Zeus released a clap of thunder to silence everyone.

“Let it be. Six months in the sea with Poseidon, six months in Athens with Athena.” Zeus decreed it. 

He fixed the other council members with a look, daring them to deny it.

“Is there anything you wish to discuss before the Winter Solstice ends?” Zeus asked. 

“Father, there is the question of domains.” Athena brought up.

“Poseidon will see what talents she possesses in regards to the sea, you will confirm his findings when your daughter is within your care. If there is anything that belongs to the goddess, it will make itself known.” 

“Riptides.” Poseidon said. “She is clever and attacks with the force and surprise of a riptide. Riptides are one of her domains that made itself known shortly after her entering the sea.” 

“Another ocean deity?” Aphrodite grinned. 

“Congratulations.” Athena said stiffly. “You must be very proud.” 

“I am.” Poseidon said, just as stiffly. 

“Can we be done? I would like to spend what limited time I have with my wife.” Hades said. 

“Meeting adjourned.” Zeus said. 

Many gods left, but Apollo and Athena stayed behind to speak with their father. 

“Father, often I have been blessed with your favor, and I am blessed with your graciousness in giving me time with my daughter. I was hoping you could grant a request that is dear to my heart.” Athena asked. 

“Speak, dear one.” Zeus said. 

“I would like your word that no one would touch my daughter.” Athena requested. 

“An eternal virgin? Such as you and Hestia and Artemis?” Zeus raised an eyebrow.

Apollo felt his ichor freeze in his veins. 

“As much as I would wish it, I am not naive that this would infuriate Perseleia. I would ask for your protection of my daughter. I would ask that no one touch my daughter unless Perseleia herself wishes it. I would ask for divine retribution against anyone who would force my daughter. As a father of daughters, you can understand why I ask this of you.” Athena requested. 

Well, Apollo had to admire the courage Athena had in this moment. 

Zeus softened as he looked at Athena.  

“Of course. With Apollo as my witness, no one will force your daughter. Should she wish to remain an eternal virgin like her mother and aunts, she will be so. Should she wish to take a lover, it will be her choice. I swear so on the River Styx.” Zeus swore. 

Thunder cracked.

Apollo felt relieved that Perseleia was not completely off limits. She was just a bride he needed to woo before proposing marriage. He felt almost giddy. It would be almost like a mortal courtship.

“I will ensure that the choice remains Perseleia’s.” Apollo promised to his sister.

“Thank you, Apollo.” Athena smiled and Apollo almost believed she was genuine.

Apollo nodded and left. 

Hermes caught him as he was making his way to his own temple. 

“What did our wise sister ask of father?” Hermes asked. 

“She asked for protection for the Athenide.” Apollo said.

“From what?” Hermes’ wings fluttered as he lounged in the air before his brother. 

“From everyone. No one is allowed to touch her.” Apollo spoke the half truth.

Hermes faltered and stood straight.

“Are you serious?”

“Father swore with me as witness. Styx took his oath and shall enact her vengeance should he break it. No one is allowed to touch or force the Athenide to bed.” Apollo said. 

“Damn.” Hermes looked down to the sea. 

“I know.” Apollo sympathized. 

“I wanted to marry her.” Hermes said quietly.

Apollo felt a twinge of satisfaction knowing he tricked his brother. 

“As did I.” Apollo admitted. 

“Well, there shall be others.” Hermes cheered up quickly. “I must go, farewell brother.” 

“Farewell.” Apollo waved his brother goodbye and in the safety of his temple, he planned and plotted ways to woo the new goddess.

Chapter Text

In exchange for her grief, Zeus gave the Athenide domains of demigods, of their protection, and at Styx’s request, the domain of promises and loyalty. Thus begins the storms of Poseidon’s rage and the dangers of the Aegean tides during the warm months when Persephone and Athenide are with their mothers.

“Perseleia, please understand,” Poseidon pressed his head to the door his daughter had currently locked and was hiding away on the other side. “I fought for you. I fought so hard.” 

“So you’re sending me away? To her?!” His little riptide sounded so broken. 

“I made sure you wouldn’t be alone with her. Hestia and Demeter, my sisters, shall be there. You’ll adore Hestia.” Poseidon assured her. 

“Darling,” Amphitrite gently took his place at the door and pushed him aside. “My sweet little seal pup.” 

“Please don’t let me go!” 

“I don’t want to let you go but Zeus ordered it and so it must be.” Amphitrite whistled. “May I please come in?”

“You’ll just drag me out!” Perseleia reacted out of fear.

Poseidon had to remind himself that Perseleia was a baby and that she didn’t know the gods the way he did. That she didn’t know that Amphitrite would take her down to the deepest parts of the sea just to keep her daughter safe with her. 

“Father,” Triton said stiffly; he had not been in a good mood ever since Zeus’ decree was announced. “Hermes is here. He has brought Persephone with him.” 

Amphitrite’s eyes burned as she bared her teeth. 

“I want him out of my oceans! I don’t want him anywhere near my baby! He can’t take her away!” Amphitrite snarled at Poseidon.

“As do I but I can’t go against Zeus, to do so would be treason and he would then give Athena full custody.” Poseidon sighed. 

“Tell him to leave, Hermes only brings pain.” Amphitrite turned her attention to her daughter’s locked door. “Perseleia, please let me in. We can just lock the door and no one will take you away.” 

“Excuse me, Lord, sister, Persephone wanted to speak with her.” Eudora said, leading the Queen of the Underworld and goddess of spring. 

“Uncle, aunt, I thought that perhaps I could speak with Perseleia. I know what she is going through and believed she could use a friend.” Persephone said, her voice kind.

Poseidon and Amphitrite shared a look but eventually swam aside. 

Persephone went up to the door and knocked gently. 

“Perseleia? I’m Persephone, we’re cousins. Could I come in? I just want to talk.” Persephone said softly. 

Poseidon heard a click and then the door opened just enough for Persephone to slip in. The door locked behind the goddess and he did not see his daughter.

The King, Queen, and Prince of the sea huddled by the door attempting to eavesdrop on the conversation inside.

He heard sobbing. 

He heard Persephone softly say “I know, I know.” 

He couldn’t hear anything else for a while. 

There were protestations about wanting to go from Perseleia, some comforts from Persephone, and more whispers. 

After what felt like an eternity, the door unlocked; the three gods scurried away from the door to pretend like they hadn’t been listening in. 

The door opened and there was Persephone, her arm around Perseleia’s shoulders. Perseleia’s eyes were red from crying, her body trembled, her hands shaking with fear. 

“Sweetheart,” Amphitrite’s tail swished; she wanted to go to her daughter but she knew if she did, she would never let her go. 

“Mama!” Perseleia broke free from Persephone’s arms and swam to her mother for comfort. 

She was such a small thing in her mother’s embrace; Amphitrite was only half a size bigger than the whales of the deepest parts of the sea normally but had shrunk to only about thirty feet in total length now that they had an infant godling and Perseleia either stubbornly remained the size of a mortal child, or she did not instinctively know how to shift her shape yet. 

“I promise that I will look out for her. She will not be alone.” Persephone promised Poseidon. 

“Thank you.” Poseidon said. 

“Athena will be furious if you’re late.” Triton said. 

“Athena can learn to be patient. Just let Perseleia hug her mother a little longer.” Persephone watched her young cousin, empathy clawing at her heart. 

Athena was so excited. 

She had cleaned her aerie many times, she had groomed her owls to only look their best, she had shined everything to perfection, she had gathered enough food, ambrosia, and nectar to last a month while her daughter gets acclimated to surface temperatures after all those months in the cold sea. She had weaved many cloths of vibrant colors worthy of Perseleia’s station… surely she hadn’t forgotten anything.

“Every mother is nervous when it is her first child, why don’t you sit down. You wouldn’t want your daughter’s first impression of you to be of you aggressively cleaning your roost.” Demeter said as she watched Athena flit from one part of the room to the other, the goddess of wisdom determined to make her aerie perfect for her daughter. 

“How can I not be? My daughter is finally coming home. What if she has been poisoned against me? What if Poseidon and his court have struck her with fear?” Athena dusted off a table with no dust on it. 

“Then you show Perseleia that you are not the monster Poseidon told her she is.” Demeter said. 

“How can I do this? I never knew my mother, Triton spent most of the time raising me, Hera would rather pretend my siblings and I never exist… I don’t know what I am doing, Aunt Demeter.” Athena stressed. 

“You protect your child. You’ve already done so by getting Zeus to promise none shall force your daughter into their bed but now you must take it further; you have to make sure none would go behind your back and take Perseleia’s hand in marriage without your knowledge. Learn from my pain, dear niece.” Demeter took Athena’s hands and squeezed them. “You must protect your daughter. I thought I had done enough with my Kore, but with my failures, I’ve learned and adapted with Despoina.”

“You are indeed wise in the ways of motherhood, Aunt Demeter.” Athena said. “I shall ponder how best to deter suitors.”

The flutter of wings grew louder until Athena felt three presences enter her aerie: feathers, wildflowers, and an ocean breeze.

“Mother, Athena, how wonderful to see you two again.” Persephone let go of Hermes’ arm and embraced her mother. 

“Oh my sweet daughter!” Demeter stroked her daughter’s hair.

Athena looked at her daughter for the first time since her birth: she looked well enough, her clothes the color of the Aegean, pearls decorated her daughter’s hair like stars in the night sky, she looked like a princess of the sea and nothing like a daughter of wisdom.

“Perseleia, you look well.” Athena smiled, shutting down the nerves that she didn’t know her own daughter. 

“Athena.” Perseleia said quietly.

Hermes raised an eyebrow and excused himself. 

“Mother, I thought that Perseleia could use a friend.” Persephone took over the silence that followed. 

“Yes, but why don’t we give Athena and her daughter a chance to get to know one another first.” Demeter whisked Persephone away in a whirl of wildflowers and wheat.

The goddess of wisdom and her daughter stared at each other for a while more. 

“This is my aerie!” Athena said.

Perseleia nodded. 

“And my owls, they’re out on a hunt but when they come back to roost, I’ll introduce you to them.” Athena started to fidget. 

That seemed to get a small smile out of her daughter. 

“Do you like weaving?” Athena asked. 

“I- I’ve never attempted.” Her daughter said.

Athena felt excited; she was going to teach her daughter how to weave. 

“Come, I shall teach you.” Athena led her to her loom. “Your… Father tells me you have control over riptides?”

It was like the flood gates had been open; Perseleia had spoken of the sea with such wistful longing that Athena couldn’t help but share it. The whales which Amphitrite introduced her to, the hippocampus that Triton taught her to ride, the seals and sea lions she would play with in the sun with the other Nereids… Perseleia was an excellent storyteller and a wonderful student once she got over her shyness and hesitation to ask questions. 

Oh how lucky Athena was to have a daughter with a curious mind…

Gods had no need for sleep; rest, of course, but no sleep.

Perseleia had fallen asleep in Athena’s nest yet Athena kept vigilant, monitoring every breath, every shift, every discomfort; adding another blanket should her daughter shiver unconsciously.

Athena had never seen the appeal of sex or children despite her relatives insisting on doing such vulgar deeds and begetting more of their line. The only reason she found the appeal of motherhood was that she wouldn’t have to change her daughter’s diaper or wonder why the babe was screaming; her daughter was fully formed at birth much like Athena was.

Was this feeling what her brothers and father meant when they said it would be different when it was your own?

Already so small, Perseleia stubbornly insisted on remaining the size of a mortal, but she was already so talented. Her first time weaving was a success and she looked absolutely beautiful in the grey fabric she wove with Athena’s help.

Athena couldn’t help but notice how her daughter preferred ocean motifs so Athena helped her with stitching her pearls into her peplos. 

Metis was an Oceanid, it wouldn’t be just Poseidon her daughter was honoring by wearing sea adornments, Athena reasoned. 

Perhaps Hephaestus could fashion Perseleia jewelry of sea creatures and waves… tomorrow then, Athena would take-no. Athena wanted to spend more time with her daughter before allowing others to interfere. 

Athena watched in fascination as her daughter shifted in her sleep and drool pooled into the nest from her parted lips. 

Athena felt like the first month was a success: she had gotten Perseleia to feel more at ease and she seemed to appreciate her owls just as Athena did. 

“Daughter, you have learned a lot in the first month by my side and have presented yourself with poise and dignity when Demeter and Persephone visit, that I believe a short visit to Olympus is in order.” Athena brought up while weaving her daughter’s dark tresses up. 

“Any reason why? You have insisted we not leave your temple this past month.” Perseleia asked. 

“Well, I wanted you to get acclimated to surface temperatures; owlets are very vulnerable the first two weeks and I have no idea what Poseidon did with you under the waves. I wasn’t about to cause you undue illness.” Athena wrapped her hair around the owl diadem. “I would like you to meet your grandfather before Poseidon and I have to present you to the gods next Winter Solstice so you don’t have as much pressure placed upon your shoulders. Father is much kinder in small councils than he is when he has to be ruler.” 

Perseleia seemed to freeze under her fingertips. 

“I have to meet with Zeus?” She sounded frightened. 

“Do not fear, my little owlet.” Athena assured her. “Father has already promised me that none shall harm you or force you to their bed.” 

“How… kind.” Perseleia didn’t sound reassured.

“Father keeps his word.” Athena insisted; determined to put her daughter’s fears to rest. 

“He breaks oaths upon the Styx’s name the way a child snaps a twig.” Perseleia said, gaze towards the fountains outside the window.

Athena paused as she reached for a veil for her daughter. 

“What did you say?”

“He will break vows upon the Styx.” Perseleia turned to look Athena right in the eyes. “I have seen it. He will break his word.” 

Athena felt sick to her stomach… or what would feel like being sick.

“And you’ve… seen this?”

Perseleia nods her head like she can’t believe that Athena would ask such a question.

Prophecy! Prophecy or oaths…

“Dearest, have you seen anything else in the future?” Athena asked, task abandoned. 

“I’ve seen your children born from thoughts though you do not care for them once they are given away. I’ve seen them plead for your attention, your love, but you do not give it. I have seen the greatest of your children be scorned out of your grace due to your pride and I have seen her fall.” 

Athena didn’t know what to say.

“I have children? Born from my thoughts?” She had to sit down. 

“You remain a virgin so your vows are not broken. That oath still stands.” Perseleia said. 

Children… She scorns her children? 

Athena couldn’t see a future where she would scorn any child unless…

Oh no, if Perseleia had seen herself be scorned by Athena in a vision, it would certainly explain why she’s a lot more reserved with Athena than she is with Demeter and Persephone.

It couldn’t be. 

“Perseleia,” Athena asked. “Do you believe that the future can be changed or do you believe it is set in stone?”

Perseleia pondered the question in silence for a moment before answering. “I have seen a vision of the  future. I wish it would be changed. I hope it can be changed.”

Athena was a goddess. 

She knelt before no one.

But the mother knelt in supplication before her daughter and took her small hands in her own. 

“Perseleia Athenide, daughter of mine, born pure from sea and wisdom, hear me now: I swear to you, what you see shall not come to pass. The vile, cruel version of me that you saw, it shall not be so. I shall make it so. You are my daughter and you have changed me for the better with your presence in my life, I see it, but please don’t tell me that I will cast you aside out of stubborn pride. I swear upon the sacred River Styx that I shall not become the vision you fear!”

Thunder roared on the sunny day, sealing her oath.

“Oh, Athena… you shouldn’t make promises you cannot keep but I hope for their sake, you keep this promise.” Perseleia looked sad. “Come, you wanted me to meet Zeus?”

Athena stood to full height and scooped up her daughter into her arms before appearing before her father in the gardens outside his temple.

“Father, I hope we are not intruding.” Athena said. 

“Athena, wisest of my children, you could never. And you have brought your… daughter with you.” Zeus still hadn’t liked the idea that his daughter and his brother shared custody over a new goddess despite neither laying with the other. 

“Perseleia, this is Zeus, King of the gods and your grandfather. Father, I wanted her to meet you before the Winter Solstice and it is rather fortuitous that we do, for I believe more domains have unlocked for her.” Athena had set Perseleia down and stood straight, her eyes full of pride.

“Poseidon had mentioned riptides.” Zeus said. “What other domains do you have, granddaughter?”

“She has some sight of the future.” Athena began. “I believe they come to her in dreams rather than visions like Apollo’s. Perhaps I should get him to teach Perseleia how to manage her gifts so she doesn’t suffer.” 

“Apollo would be a good teacher, though Poseidon did hold Delphi before he passed it on to Apollo.” Zeus mused. 

“Oaths and promises, I request they be given to her.” A voice that cut fear into Athena’s heart shattered the peace in the garden she had with her father and daughter. 

Athena and Zeus turned to see Styx herself had appeared in the garden. 

Perseleia, however, went to greet the goddess like a friend. 

“Good morning Styx. You look well.” Perseleia said politely. 

Styx gave Perseleia a rare smile, “my blessings upon you, young goddess.” Styx then turned to face Zeus with a stern expression. “I wish for this goddess to share my domain for oaths and promises. Specifically bonds made out of loyalty.”

“I hear your plea but why?” Zeus asked. 

“Because she knows promises. She holds her oaths. She has felt betrayal. She is loyalty personified and just as I am hatred.” 

Athena felt anger coarse through her being; who dared betray her daughter?

“So be it. Just as we swear our oaths in your name Lady Styx, shall Perseleia hold us loyal to our oaths.” Zeus decreed. 

Thunder clapped and Styx grinned. 

“Oh little goddess,” Styx cooed as she stroked a pale finger against Perseleia’s cheek and disappeared. 

“A goddess of riptides, loyalty, and oaths.” Zeus said. 

“Grandfather, I know you promised my mother that none would force me to their bed, but I cannot help but ask of you that I take a vow of chastity like mother has done.” Perseleia turned to face Zeus with the most adorable look to rival the cutest of seals. 

Zeus grimaced. 

“I cannot allow you that promise, for what if you change your mind like Athena has about children? May I offer you another gift instead?” Zeus bargained. 

“Then perhaps could I have the domain over demigods?” Perseleia requested. 

“Demigods?” Zeus asked. 

“Children born of the union between gods and mortals. If they cannot be raised by their godly parents, the monsters will hunt for them. Mortal parents cannot protect their children by themselves. I wish to have demigods under my protection. If I cannot remain a virgin, then I would at least have this, grandfather.” Perseleia requested. 

“Very well. You shall have domain over the half godly children and be responsible for their protection.” Zeus promised her. 

Athena could see a gleam in her daughter’s eyes, a sparkle that surely meant that she had gotten exactly what she wanted anyway. Athena raised a curious eyebrow at her child and only got a look of innocence in return. 

What a curious and clever girl…

Chapter Text

The Goddess of Wisdom and the Goddess of Loyalty formed a close bond. Loyalty could often be found at Wisdom’s side during the warm months when not with her friend Spring. Some myths speak of the friendships between Spring, the Huntress, and Loyalty, others speak of the Truth’s longing for Loyalty. 

Though there are many variations of how it was stated, one myth states that Hera and Perseleia began a frigid relationship when the Goddess of Marriage requested for the new goddess to be married to keep the peace.

Percy still didn’t know how she ended up in Ancient Greece but if she could keep gaslighting everyone into thinking she had visions of the future, she just might be able to bluff her way home.

The miscommunication that her name was Perseleia instead of Percy Leia Jackson was not something Percy intended on, but if it got her home, she’ll pretend to be a faded goddess. It wasn’t like her mother named her after the faded goddess anyway; she was named after Perseus the only demigod who had struggled and against all odds lived to have a happy ending and Princess Leia who, coincidentally, was named and inspired by the obscure goddess.

Whatever. Everyone’s misunderstanding was to her benefit.

Percy looked over at Athena as she was reading out some hymnals and prayers that she was drafting for her as a new goddess (which she still felt awkward about) and had momentarily paused her weaving. 

Percy didn’t want to be with Athena at first; she had resented the goddess for everything that had happened with Annabeth (and her siblings but mostly Annabeth), after learning about Pallas, Percy would admit that she felt uncomfortable around the goddess but after spending a few months with her, after learning about the goddess up close, Percy could tell that she was lonely.

Maybe it was the fact that Annabeth was Athena’s daughter and that’s why they were so similar, maybe it was the fact that this Athena didn’t have thousands of years to become as cold as she did, but Percy couldn’t help but feel empathetic towards the goddess and missed her friend. 

“-do you think?” Athena looked up at Percy expectantly.

“Hmm?” Percy blinked. 

“Of the prayers and the hymns I wrote for you. I’m no muse but I believe I did a very good job of highlighting your cleverness.” Athena beamed and Percy couldn’t tell her that she hadn’t heard a single word she said. 

“I think it was wonderful, Athena.” Percy said.

“Mother, please.” Athena insisted. 

“My lady, perhaps we should talk about this.” Percy said gently.

“I agree. Why are you so hesitant to call me mother? I am your mother. You were born in Athens despite neither Poseidon or I having intercourse with one another.” Athena tilted her head like an owl, like Annabeth did when a problem perplexed her.

“I… feel fond of you, truly, these months with you allowed me to know you in a way no one else has but I do not feel comfortable calling you mother.” Percy said gently. Please don’t smite me, please don’t smite me.

Athena blinked. 

Percy took that as her cue to keep talking.

“It’s just…” I have a mother and her name is Sally Jackson. Amphitrite feels more like a mom to me than you. You disowned my best friend and sent her on a suicide quest and I wanted to tear you apart for hurting her but you have not done that yet. Percy had to remind herself that the future can change, that Athena doesn’t have to turn out like that. Annabeth can have a more loving mother if Percy just plays her cards right. “Poseidon wanted me as a child, even when everyone thought I was a nymph. You didn’t. You only claimed me when you learned I was a goddess. It made me feel unwanted. Like I was only a tool for you to use. Amphitrite didn’t care for that, she didn’t care that she wasn’t my birth mother, she saw me as her own and accepted me.” 

Athena’s shoulders slumped and her expression was torn.

“I cannot help but believe that you did not want to claim me because you genuinely want to care for me. From my perspective, it is because of your wounded pride, that you feel entitled to me.”

This is a goddess and she doesn’t understand human emotion, Percy thought to herself. 

“I care for you, more than I thought I would honestly, but I don’t feel comfortable calling you mother for those reasons.” 

“Oh. I see.” Athena looked confused. “So because I didn’t claim you immediately as my child… you feel unwanted by me?”

You know what, I’ll take it. 

“Yes.” Percy said. 

“And Amphitrite… she accepted you with open arms, that is my understanding?”

“Yes.” 

“I understand…” Athena pondered. “I… I apologize, for how my actions have caused you grief-”

Great, now an apology for Annabeth…

“-I… Children of gods perplex me. They are born fully grown and have no need for such mortal ways of care. You are the most humanlike god I’ve ever met.” Athena said. “I shall take this into consideration for my future actions.” 

“That is all I ask.” Percy said.

“Perseleia,” Athena looked at her with cognizance.

“Yes?”

“I hope one day, I earn the right to hear ‘mother’ genuinely come from your lips.” Athena said. 

“I hope so too.” 

///

From the day she was born, Artemis has heard from her twin all about the oceanic beauty that has captivated her brother’s heart. 

Artemis had believed this to be a simple fancy and her brother would move on in a week or two but weeks turned to months, until it was almost a year since her brother had shown interest in anyone but the new maid.

Artemis secretly hoped to gain a new huntress but not at the cost of her brother’s trust.

Near the middle of the summer months, Persephone had called Artemis to join her; Demeter and Athena had regularly set up get togethers with their daughters so they could get to know one another and so Athena could go to her aunt for advice when Hestia could not be called upon.

“Perseleia is such a sweet girl. She loves animals, she loves the flowers I make, she even gives me ideas on how I can punish those in the fields of punishment.” Persephone grinned. “You will love her.”

Persephone was in the middle of telling Artemis of the time they had found a fox when they heard laughing.

Persephone’s lips curled into a smile. “Ah, she’s brought Pistós.”

Artemis merely wondered why anyone would befriend a fox when she was brought to meet with the muse of her brother’s poems.

Apollo certainly had described her well, though he did not mention her fondness for cradling the trickster animal her brother occasionally delighted in. 

“Persephone, you missed it. Pistós was rolling on the ground and being so adorable.” Perseleia’s eyes gleamed with delight.

“I am certain Pistós would do it again for you in a heartbeat. Artemis, this is Perseleia. As of right now, she is the goddess of riptides, loyalty, demigods, and oaths. Perseleia, this is my sister Artemis, goddess of the hunt and wild, a protector of children and of women.” 

Perseleia smiled at her like they were old friends.

Perseleia cradled her fox with one hand and held her free hand out.

“It is so wonderful to finally meet you in person. Persephone speaks so fondly of you and I have had dreams of your hunt.” Perseleia said warmly. 

The way she spoke was often how Apollo’s prophets spoke of the future.

“I quite agree. I have heard so much about you from others, I feel as if we have already been introduced.” Artemis took her hand. “Now tell me: what is your weapon of choice?”

“Well, I am rather partial to a sword. Athena, I’m not quite comfortable calling her mother just yet, has promised to teach me the spear once I am old enough. And Triton promised me he would teach me how to use a trident once I return to the sea.” Perseleia grinned. 

“And how do you feel about the bow?” Artemis smiled; perhaps there would be the epithet Areia attached to this goddess’ name.

“Oh, you do not want me anywhere near a bow. I think I must be cursed or something.” Perseleia scratched her fox’s ears while she looked down modestly.

“Nonsense; no one can curse a goddess.” Artemis pulled her bow out of nowhere and held it out. “I shall teach you. Or would you insult me by insinuating I cannot teach my new friend how to use a bow?”

Perseleia merely raised an eyebrow and set her fox down. 

“All right then, challenge accepted.” She laughed as she followed Artemis.

Persephone grinned as she shared a look with Pistós. 

“I knew they would be good friends.” She told the fox. 

Persephone watched the two with amusement as Artemis tried to teach Perseleia how to shoot a bow. 

By the end of the summer, Perseleia could get the arrow within two feet of the target and Artemis agreed to watch over Pistós when Perseleia returned to the seas.

///

The Winter Solstice was nothing like the one Percy had gone to after they had freed Artemis and Annabeth from Atlas and bore the sky. There were gods that Percy didn’t recognize and the gods that Percy would have, were not born yet.

Another difference was that instead of voting on whether to kill Percy and Thalia, Poseidon and Athena were presenting Percy to all of the gods as their daughter, born pure and without the involvement of sex, who sprung fully formed from the fountain during the contest of Athens. 

It had taken a lot of pleading on her part, but Percy thought she got her father and stepmother and Athena in a position where they were not going to rip the other’s head off on sight.

“Behold: the goddess of loyalty, of riptides and seafarers, of oaths, protector of the children of the gods. Lady Perseleia Athenide.” Zeus’ voice felt like her body would shatter if he spoke any louder but Percy stood as tall as she could next to her father and Athena. 

She just had to con them all a little while longer… this was all a dream, there was no way her blood was actually golden…

“Now that we have welcomed a new goddess into our fold, let us now celebrate the upcoming nuptials of our new goddess of loyalty.” Hera announced. 

Percy definitely caught the look of surprise on her father’s and Athena’s faces; they didn’t know about this.

Well, Percy thought, consider what’s about to happen as her being reasonable.

“Aunt Hera, you cannot be serious; neither my father nor,” Percy’s eye twitched as she said, “my mother have discussed such a topic with me, let alone with each other.”

“Many suitors have come to Zeus and I in pursuit of your hand.” Hera’s brown eyes darkened. 

“To you and Zeus, not my parents.” Percy countered. “And with such undermined trickery, they should be forbidden from even being considered if I do choose to be married.”

“And why should my daughter marry at all, Hera? She has expressed a desire to remain unwedded and a virgin only to be denied her request by my father.” Athena supported Percy.

Hera smirked as she eyed Percy like the predators before the prey.

“Why, she must be married. After all: an unwedded goddess of her beauty is sure to cause fighting amongst the gods. Surely we don’t want more incidents from before Aphrodite was married? And as your daughter, surely you would want the protection her husband and marriage could offer.” Hera not so coyly suggested. 

“And I’m sure, like Aphrodite’s marriage, the fighting will stop once I am married?” Percy raised an eyebrow, matching the Queen’s manipulations with her own impertinence.

“Whatever do you mean?” Hera said, her smile like ice. “Marrying you off will keep the gods from starting a war over your hand. Your husband would have your parents, both Olympians, backing the marriage and ensuring the sanctity of your vows.”

“The same way that my brother through marriage Helios respects his vows? I have seen my sister’s tears and how her heart breaks every time he has an affair. Clymene, Clytie, Ceto the Oceanid, Leucothoe, with each woman, my sister’s heart breaks more and more. And let’s not forget Perse, who dared to usurp my sister’s place as Lady of the house of Helios and who’s the cause of my niece’s suicide.” Percy stood before the gods and their queen with her head high and her tongue sharp. 

It was a great sorrow when Elektryone took her own life after Rhodes was cast out of the Sun Palace and sent to her island to seek refuge with her sons. After the mourning period was done, Rhodes returned to the sea to seek comfort with her parents.

Rhodes pointedly did not meet Helios’ gaze from where he was with a pregnant Perse.

“Is that the sanctity you mean?”

Athena opened her mouth to object, to get Percy to be quiet lest she be smited but Poseidon put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

“The god you marry would honor his vows.” Hera said, her voice strained and her smile forced.

“And just who do you have in mind?” Percy dared.

“My son Ares, of course.” 

Apollo was so furious, the golden goblet in his hand melted from the heat of his touch.

Artemis looked at her brother and tried not to giggle.

“Ares would only stay as charmed as he is able and then run right back to Aphrodite’s open arms.” Percy countered, unimpressed with the queen’s choice of suitor.

Ares scoffed at being excluded from the line of suitors so callously. 

“Ares is an honorable man! He will respect his marriage vows because I command it!” Hera’s eye twitched. 

“The way you command Hephaestus and Aphrodite to respect their own marriage vows? If you really wanted marriage to be respected, you would have allowed Aphrodite the dignity of choosing her husband in the first place or are you saying that love is secondary to marriage? Instead you trap two people in a failing marriage to maintain a picturesque perfect family when they really would rather be married to other people.”

Aphrodite looked as if she didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. 

Ares, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed at Percy’s accurate deduction that he would eventually crawl back to Aphrodite’s bed. 

Hephaestus looked incredulous at the prospect that there would be anyone willing to marry him.

“Or did you perhaps mean the way my father Poseidon respects his vows? He loves Amphitrite, that you can be sure of, but running off into Nerites’ bed? The nymphs he fathered cyclops with? He beds men and women indiscriminately; the confidence I have that my father would respect my vows or ensure my husband to remain faithful is low if he hasn’t stepped in on behalf of my sisters.” Percy’s eyes flashed like the tumultuous seas she adored.

Poseidon’s jaw dropped at his daughter’s audacity by bringing him up in her rant.

“Or perhaps, Queen Hera, you meant the way Zeus would respect my vows to my husband the way he respects his to you.” Percy dared Hera to state anything else to the contrary.

Scratch that. 

Poseidon was floored by his daughter’s audacity by bringing up Zeus.

“It seems, my uncle the seducer, is determined to give validity to my domain of demigods by giving me demigods to look after.” Percy said coldly.

Not a word was spoken.

No one dared breathe lest they brought the wrath of Loyalty upon them in that moment.

“Hera, my Queenly aunt, I would rather remain unmarried and desired than to be married with a husband who holds no loyalty in his heart. I don’t see a single worthy suitor here; their attention will stray and I will not be made a fool.” Percy declared. 

Percy made her way through the gods, nymphs, and spirits to seek fresh air who’s wolfish expression sent them scurrying out of her way.

Perseleia’s words echoed in his mind throughout the night.

Their attention will stray and I will not be made a fool.

Apollo had taken lovers, yes, it’s true. But never once had he cheated on his lovers. He was faithful. He did not look at anyone else with lust in his heart until the partner and he went their separate ways. 

Surely that would earn him favor in the Athenide’s eyes?

And unlike the others who went behind his beloved’s back and went straight to the King and Queen of the gods (their folly was his gain as that eliminated most of the pantheon as rivals for Perseleia’s hand), Apollo would plead his case before both Poseidon and Athena.

He pulled his uncle aside and requested an audience with him as soon as reasonable away from prying eyes. 

He plead his case and asked on bended knee for Poseidon’s permission to court his youngest daughter. 

“You have my blessing. I would much rather have you as a groom for my Perseleia than Ares but you also will have to get Athena’s blessing before you pursue our daughter.” Poseidon said. 

“I intend to speak with Athena as soon as possible.” Apollo felt giddy. 

Only one person stood between him and his bride. 

“Athena, may we speak in private.” Apollo requested. 

Chapter Text

As one of the few gods not to be sworn to never have the Athenide as his wife, Apollo went to Poseidon and Athena to ask for her hand in marriage; he had seen what occurred when Persephone married Hades and did not wish to inflict the rage of either his sister or uncle. Poseidon gave his consent for the marriage, granted that Athena agrees and also gave her blessing. 

Athena agreed on the condition that there be a race. Should Athena’s owls win the race, Apollo must swear on the Styx never to pursue, sway, or otherwise seek the Athenide’s hand by any means, divine or mortal. Should Apollo win, he would have the Athenide as a bride.

Athena laughed at the absurdity. 

Apollo, acting serious, had come to her to ask for Perseleia’s hand in marriage.

He was ridiculous. 

He was foolish.

He was… 

He was completely sincere. 

“You’re joking.” Athena said. 

“I assure you, I am not.” Apollo stood resolute against his sister’s mockery.

“You cannot be serious.” Athena frowned. 

“Athena, I have never felt more serious than I am about Perseleia. I wish to marry her. I wish to raise her up as my lady wife. I will give her my titles. I will give her Delphi as a wedding gift. And I will spend the rest of our lives proving how much I adore her.” Apollo said.

Athena’s eyes widened… surely this was just a simple infatuation with her daughter.

“You don’t even know her.” Athena said. 

“I know that she desires a faithful husband should she choose one. I know that one of her sacred animals is to be foxes, not because of how they gravitate towards her like they do with me, but because she’s playful. She’s clever and witty just like you but also because foxes are loyal and that is what Perseleia is. I know that as the goddess of riptides, she is unpredictable and as a beautiful goddess, she could also make a very vicious fighter; with you and Triton as her primary influences, I would expect to see a warlike epithet for her within a few years. I know that she adores her family and anyone who can get you and uncle Poseidon to not strangle one another is a talented negotiator.” Apollo raised his finger to emphasize his next point. “And I know anyone who has the courage to call out father to his face and walk away alive is someone brave, someone who will not fawn over a god just to get ahead, someone who is honest.”

“But you don’t know her.” Athena repeated herself. 

“That’s the wonderful thing about immortality: I get to spend the rest of my life getting to know her. Athena, please. If we marry, Perseleia will have the protection of three Olympian gods. No one would dare harm her.” Apollo said. 

Athena pursed her lips. 

“I ask once more: may I have your permission to marry Perseleia Athenide?” Athena found no trickery, no malice in Apollo’s plea.

“You have my blessing…” Athena said stiffly.

“Thank you!” Apollo breathed a sigh of relief. He had believed getting his sister’s approval would be more strenuous than this but Athena agreed with him? She must see that Perseleia and he were meant to be just as the Sun was to marry the Sea, no matter who held the reins. Perseleia was going to be his w-

“...if you beat me in a foot race: my owl, against your raven.” Athena said, a calm fury overtaking her; how dare her brother dare to steal away her daughter! How dare her uncle… unless he knew Athena would never agree and sent Apollo to be turned down, showing the gods that not even golden Apollo could win the hand of Perseleia Athenide.

Oh uncle, how cruel you can be…

“A bird race?” Apollo looked suspicious.

“Indeed. Should your raven win: I will bless the marriage between you and my daughter. No tricks or deception. But should my owl win: you never, ever pursue Perseleia. You don’t get anyone to speak for you, you don’t even mention your feelings to her.” Athena offered diplomatically though she wanted to run her spear through her golden brother. 

“Should you win, anything that should happen between Perseleia and I will be because Perseleia wants it, not because I wish it.” Apollo agreed to the terms.

“Very well. It seems that there shall be a bird race.”Athena said.

///

Apollo with head held high and his snow white raven on his arm met Athena and her tawny owl the morning of the bird race. 

There were spectators of course; once word got around that Apollo was asking for the Athenide’s hand in marriage and Athena wanted a race to determine if Apollo was good enough for her daughter, gods and nature spirits wanted to see if the great Phoebus could win against Athena.

Apollo looked around at the spectators, hoping to find the goddess he wanted to marry and found her sitting next to Poseidon and his queen. During winter, when Perseleia was with her father in the sea, she donned more blue chitons and peplos that made her sea green eyes warmer, brighter. She wore a golden diadem atop a pale blue veil and he had to believe it was a sign she wished him luck.

He would win. 

He had to win. 

“Apollo, are you ready?” Hermes asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“More than ready.” Apollo answered. 

“Athena, are you ready?” Hermes asked. 

“I am.” Athena said, stroking her owl.

“Then let the bird race begin.” Hermes announced. 

Apollo and Athena both set their birds down on the ground. 

“First one to make it to the tree on foot, is the winner of the race.” Hermes said. 

“Win for Perseleia.” Apollo whispered to his raven.

“On your mark,”

“Athena,”

“Get set,”

“May the best bird win.” 

“I intend it.” 

“Go.” 

The race had begun. 

In the lead was the raven with strong, powerful steps.

The owl was slow but it did its best to keep up. 

About halfway to the tree, the raven spread its wings and took flight, leaving the owl behind. The raven landed in one of the low branches and cawed in victory as Athena’s owl made its way to the tree long after.

Apollo couldn’t believe it. 

He had won!

His bird won!

He won Perseleia’s hand in marriage!

He was going to tell this story to their children, he was going to immortalize this moment in songs and prayers for all eternity. Let everyone know that-

“Athena is the winner!” 

NO!

“What?!” Apollo gasped in horror.

“The deal was that the birds would race on foot brother, not in flight. Your raven broke the rules the moment it flapped its wings .” Athena smirked in victory. “I would take your vow now.” 

Apollo was furious. He wanted to rage and cry and scream at how unfair it was that he had lost but he couldn’t. He made a promise and he would keep it. 

Apollo swore never to pursue the Athenide. 

Athena and her owl looked upon him smugly while everyone else laughed at his failure, his humiliation. 

He couldn’t bear to look and see if Perseleia was also laughing at him. His heart couldn’t bear it if she was. 

Apollo made it to his mother’s temple before breaking down and sobbing at her feet. 

“Oh, my son. My sun.” Leto ran her fingers through her son’s curls. 

“I lost her! The only one I want to marry and I have lost her!” Apollo sobbed. 

“Apollo, your vow is that you cannot pursue her, not that she cannot pursue you.” Leto comforted. 

“If she decided to pursue me. Athena and her owls have made a mockery of me!” Apollo said in misery.

“I know. I know.” Leto held her son.

“They all laughed at me!”

Leto’s heart ached for her son.

“I didn’t.” 

Apollo turned and wiped his eyes upon hearing her voice.

There, with his sister, looking concerned, was Perseleia Athenide.

“You came?”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright. That was rather cruel what the others did when you lost.” Perseleia said. 

She wanted to comfort him?

Oh her kindness would be immortalized in songs and poetry, Apollo would see to it. 

“Lady Leto, could I perhaps speak with Apollo?” Perseleia asked. 

“Of course,” Leto pressed a kiss to her son’s forehead and held her arm out for Artemis as she left. 

When they were alone, Apollo wanted to cry at her feet, to explain that he didn’t want to marry her because she was just another pretty face, that he loved her in a way that defied the Fates themselves and he would do it over and over and over again; his vow to Athena and the threat of what would happen should he break his promise held him back. 

“I know you want to marry me, and I am flattered, truly.” Perseleia began.

Apollo could tell exactly where the conversation was going. 

“But I have seen the future. And your children are your greatest joys.” Perseleia said. 

Okay, that was not what he was expecting.

Wait, future? She could see the future? Was she also a goddess of prophecy or was it sight? How did she get her visions? Did she-

“And in a husband, I would expect complete and utter loyalty; no straying. I cannot marry you. Not when I know your children are going to impact the world. As a god of prophecy, you can understand why I’m telling you this.” Perseleia said, kindly.

“If what you say is true, that my children will be important, so important that you cannot be my wife? Surely there must be a time when your prophecy comes to an end and we can marry.” Apollo pleaded. 

The thought of fathering a child, let alone children, with anyone that was not Perseleia herself was enough to make him want to swear off children entirely. What could be so incredibly important that a child of his was worth more to Perseleia than marriage to him?

“I would make a wretched wife.” She said. 

How could she believe that?

Who had even told her that wretched lie?

“No. Never you.” 

“Apollo,” Perseleia said. 

Apollo closed his eyes and prayed that she didn’t see his tears or hear his heart breaking.

He felt soft hands wipe away his tears and opened his eyes to see Perseleia with a bittersweet expression on her face.

“I can only offer you friendship.” She said softly.

His heart broke.

He wanted her to be his wife. 

He wanted her to be in his life.

The thought of losing her would kill him. 

“Then friendship is what I will take.” Apollo said, leaning into her hand.

“Thank you.” Perseleia said. “I have to return to the sea now, but Artemis has been teaching me archery during the summer.” 

Apollo knew that; his sister bragged about it often. 

“Perhaps you could join us. Not to brag, but I can get the arrow within two paces of the target.” Perseleia joked at her own expense to cheer him up? No god in their right mind would do that.

“You are kind.” Apollo said. 

“I try to be.” Perseleia shrugged. 

“No it’s-you simply are kind. You don’t play at niceties for the sake of getting ahead. You are genuinely kind. Don’t lose that.” Apollo said.

“Eh, Persephone and I can get really creative coming up with punishments for the damned.” She teased. “Seriously, we’re friends now. I’ll check on you in the summer when I return. Don’t beat yourself up too badly about this race, you’ll be back to your sunshine self in no time.” 

And she left, taking all the sunshine with her.

Apollo could feel the burn on his cheek where she touched him. 

He could smell the scent of the ocean breeze where she stood. 

Her leaving him there only carved out his heart with the dullest of blades.

He lost her hand in marriage but he had gained her hand in friendship.

Let the others laugh. 

Today, Apollo lost the bird race, it’s true, but he still had the rest of time to win the Athenide over. 

As Percy returned to the sea, she did her best to ignore her aching heart; she couldn’t marry Apollo and demand he not sire children. Asclepius had to be born. Cabin 7 had to be born. Will and Kayla and Austin and Lee and Michael and Victoria… they needed to exist.

Cabin 7 is what matters more to Percy than the stupid crush she had on the sun god. Losing them would break her heart; she couldn't imagine a world where there was no sunshine from Will, no music from  Austin, no trick shots with a bow  from Kayla... Cabin 7 deserved to have occupants. Percy couldn't ask it to be empty.

You're only bringing them into the world for slaughter.

Shut up!

It's true. What makes you think you can change the gods?

She was stuck in the past for who knows how long, she had already messed up by pretending to be a faded goddess, she wasn’t going to mess up anymore by accidentally erasing Cabin 7 from existence.

Your blood is golden. Why don’t you just admit to yourself that whatever happened to send you back has ascended you? 

I am not a goddess!

But you are. 

I’m not a goddess! I am human! I am mortal!

“Are you all right, Perseleia?”

Percy startled as she was broken out of her thoughts. 

Rhodes rarely came out of her rooms, the Solstice was merely a formality, otherwise the goddess would weep in her room for her daughter or rage for her husband. “I heard you don’t have to worry about another suitor.” 

“I’m fine. How are you, do you need anything?” Percy asked her sister. 

Rhodes gave her a strained smile. 

“A divorce would be nice. A husband who isn’t parading his mistress around like a wife. A husband who acknowledges our sons and his role in our daughter’s death. Many things that are unattainable.” 

Percy took Rhodes’ hand in hers. “One day, Helios will fade. Perse will be long forgotten. And you Rhodes, will be known as only the highest of scholars.”

“Unlikely.” Rhodes scoffed. 

“I’ve seen it. I know it. Helios will get what’s coming to him and his grandchildren will pay the price.” It was only as much as Percy could say, but she hoped her words comforted Rhodes.

“You are sweet to say so, but if you could accept some sisterly advice?” Rhodes offered. 

“Of course.” Percy said. 

“Sun gods are fickle and their attention short. It is quite possible you avoided my fate when Athena and her owl won the race; I suppose I shall have to thank my niece’s killer for sparing you.” Rhodes said, coldly but not without reason. 

“You are quite right about sun gods.” Percy put on a forced smile and hugged her sister. 

“So long as someone can learn from my folly and humiliation, I am glad.” Rhodes cupped her sister's cheek and left. 

Leaving Percy alone with her treacherous thoughts and a broken heart. 

Chapter Text

Upon seeing Eros string his bow, Apollo mocked him for using men’s weapons. Eros declared “thy arrows may vanquish beasts, but mine shall vanquish you!” and aimed his arrow, that was tipped with lead and poisoned all love, to the nymph Daphne and his golden arrow, that made the mightiest of men and gods, fall prey to love’s power. So Apollo chased Daphne, in desperation, the nymph cried out to her father to spare her. In his grief, Apollo fashioned laurels and made her tree his sacred symbol. 

Eros found it amusing to watch the great Phoebus Apollo brought low by a single owl. 

The great Slayer of Python, beaten by an owl? It was laughable.

Aphrodite looked down upon the mortal world and sighed.
“What ails you mother?” He asked.

“Perseleia is tied in the bonds of love yet she never acts upon them. Heartache and pain and betrayal; and no one to share it with.” Aphrodite lamented. “Such a beauty, such a wonderful tragedy waiting to happen and yet she shuns me.” 

“Shall I curse her or cause her to fall in love with some monster?” Eros asked. 

“No, Zeus forbade anyone from…” Aphrodite trailed off.

“From, mother?” Eros asked. 

“Zeus’ vow of protection protects the Athenide from rape and coercion. It doesn’t protect her from Love’s arrow.” Aphrodite smirked. 

Eros grinned. 

“Indeed, such an oversight.” Eros’ wings fluttered as he took flight.

“And Eros,” 

“Yes, mother?” Eros’s wings held him in flight. 

“This was never ordered.” Aphrodite said.

“Of course, mother. I was merely practicing my archery.” Eros said with a cruel smile.

Artemis had brought one of her hunters, a naiad named Daphne, to meet with Perseleia and Persephone that summer. 

Perseleia adored the naiad and found friendship with her.

Apollo was not surprised to see his two sisters with the love of his life and the naiad by the stream; it was a hot summer’s day, they had trained with weapons best they could in the heat and were now enjoying respite by the water.

Helios’ power and authority waned with each child Perse bore him until it became apparent that he could no longer control the sun. 

Apollo took the reins and the sun horses listened to him. 

With a snap, the horses raced across the sky. 

The view was amazing from up above; he could see everything, his uncle’s sea, Mount Olympus, Perseleia and his twin wherever they were should they need his help, and on the rare occasion, he saw the decapitated head of Uranos floating above it all.

It was mid day when he decided to check on his sisters and Perseleia only to find Aphrodite’s son stalking them like a hunter. 

Splitting his consciousness, Apollo appeared next to the god of love.

“Leave my sisters alone, Eros. Persephone is married and Artemis has her vows.” Apollo said sternly.

“Oh Apollo, my condolences about your failed marriage. What a shame you couldn’t beat an owl in a race.” Eros said casually as he drew the arrow back, the lead tip gleaming in his sunlight.. 

“Eros, I’m warning you, stay the hell away from my sisters and don’t you dare touch Perseleia. She is protected from your vile arrows from Zeus himself.” Apollo said.

“From rape, yes. But not from love.” Eros smirked as he loosed the arrow.

“NO!” Apollo roared. 

He watched helplessly as the arrow soared straight towards Perseleia’s heart when the naiad Daphne, his sister’s faithful lieutenant, jumped between Perseleia and the arrow.

“A shame.” Eros mocked. 

Apollo felt the sharp sting before he lost his senses. 

There before him, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; Daphne, his sister’s lieutenant, with eyes pale like the stream, who was swift like the rivers, her hair flowed in the breeze; he had seen her before yes, but never had he desired her so. 

Why should he want the goddess of loyalty when Daphne would do?

Apollo felt overwhelmed by the amount of love he felt in that moment for Daphne. He needed her, he craved her, he desired her.

Swift as a wolf, Apollo took off towards his dear Daphne. 

Daphne startled like a deer and sprinted away from the goddesses, from him.

“Daphne! Naiad daughter of Peneus, I beg of you, wait! I am not your enemy! Only a suitor!” Apollo called after her. 

He could faintly hear his sisters shouting, pleading for him to stop but Apollo could not; not when Daphne fled from him like a deer runs from a predator.

“I only chase you out of love! I desire to make you my lady, not to devour you as a wolf his prey!” Apollo was catching up to the nymph. “Have pity on my poor heart! I could not bare it if you tripped and were injured knowing it was me who caused you harm!” 

But Daphne’s heart was already closed off from her vow to her maiden goddess and so she did not slow down; instead, she only ran faster, fueled by the fear in her heart for what would happen if she were caught.

“My love, please!”

“Father! Mother! Save me! Destroy me! Whatever you choose, but please spare me from the sun!” Daphne cried out.

Apollo watched in fear as Daphne’s legs took root, as her arms stretched towards the sky, as her hair transformed into green leaves and her skin to bark.

“No! NO!” Apollo wept at the base of the tree trunk until his sisters and Perseleia caught up to him. 

“BROTHER! What have you done?” Artemis looked upon the tree in horror. “Oh Daphne, my dear huntress!” 

Apollo couldn’t see Perseleia through his tears but it wasn’t her comfort he wanted, he wanted Daphne! He wanted to hold her and tell her it was going to be alright, he wanted to whisper words of love to her and dress her in the golden rays of the sun, he wanted to-

He felt a sharp sting and his head cleared. 

Perseleia was before him, holding a golden arrow dripping with his ichor; her eyes pained and she knelt beside him.

“What have I done?” Apollo whispered in horror.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Perseleia cautiously tossed the arrow aside and opened her arms. “You were cursed by Eros, but now you have control over yourself again.” 

Apollo fell into his beloved Perseleia’s arms and wept as she held him. 

Artemis, upon the realization that her brother was tricked by Eros, grew furious. 

“I’m going to catch that little runt. I’m going to pluck each feather out slowly and painfully.” Artemis snarled. “For each maiden Aphrodite curses, I shall gain ten times the huntresses.” 

“I didn’t mean too, I didn’t mean too.” Apollo whimpered. 

“Shhhh, shhh,” Perseleia continued to hold him. “What’s done is done.”

Persephone pressed her hand against the bark of the tree. “She’s safe now. She’s at peace.”

“I didn’t- I'm so sorry!” Apollo apologized to his sister. 

Artemis pressed her head against the bark of her lieutenant and whispered blessings of peace.

“I, I want to honor her. She had no choice just as I didn’t. From this day forth, her leaves shall crown royalty and victors of games and war. Her bark shall provide your huntresses bows and they shall never miss. Her leaves shall be evergreen; time will not touch her just like it did not touch her when she was a part of the Hunt.” Apollo promised. 

Artemis pressed a kiss to the bark in farewell. 

“I have to go. I need to find a new lieutenant.” She said with grief as she left.

Persephone looked pained. “She jumped in front of you before she ran off… Eros must have been aiming for you instead.” 

Perseleia stiffened as she held Apollo.

“But Zeus promised that I was protected.” Perseleia denied. 

“From force, not against love.” Apollo repeated Eros’ words. “He wanted to prove that even Loyalty could crumble in the presence of love.” 

Perseleia’s features morphed into rage; beautiful and deadly and the promise of retribution. “Eros. Does. Not. Control. Me.” 

Perseleia got up and pulled Apollo to his feet.

“Come on, we need to tell the story first before Eros has a chance. If we can challenge him, say that his promise was not upheld, he will have to make an amendment to his oath.” Perseleia said. 

“Perseleia, your mother-” Persephone started. 

“-will understand why I didn’t go to her immediately. Better to ask her forgiveness than permission.” Perseleia said, already heading to Mount Olympus.

There were preparations for the Summer Solstice when the three gods appeared on the mountain but Perseleia stormed right past everyone, a hurricane of anger with one goal in mind. 

Apollo thought briefly that she looked so beautiful in her rage.

Without any preamble, Perseleia threw open the doors to the throne room and walked in on the meeting between the six Kronides.

Poseidon looked elated to see his daughter but then took note of her fury.

“My riptide, are you all right?” Poseidon asked. 

“You promised me I would be safe!” Perseleia shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Zeus.

Zeus looked confused. 

Poseidon looked livid. 

“What happened to you?” Poseidon turned into a wave and was at her side in an instant, checking his daughter over for any sign of abuse.

“You promised no one would force themselves upon me! You promised I would have a choice! How great is your word if not even Eros will stay his arrows?” Perseleia snarled. 

Poseidon held his daughter in his arms as if to shield her from Eros that moment. 

“What happened?” He said with a dangerous calm. 

“Eros hit me with his golden arrow with the intent to harm your daughter. Your daughter was meant to be the recipient of the lead arrow. Artemis’ lieutenant Daphne, daughter of Peneus, leaped between Perseleia and the arrow, allowing herself to be struck in her stead. Daphne found her salvation by transforming into a laurel tree.” Apollo confessed. 

“Your daughter hasn’t been harmed, therefore, the vow still stands.” Zeus stated. 

“But there was an attempt! Bring Eros, bring Aphrodite, every single love god and goddess needs to swear to leave my daughter alone!” Poseidon raged. 

“No harm was done.” Zeus insisted. 

“Harm was done, my lord Zeus. Or should we take this as evidence your vow means nothing?” Perseleia gave Zeus a withering look.

Apollo wanted to both praise and admonish Perseleia for speaking to Zeus that way; she was only going to get hurt if she didn’t. Apollo didn’t want to see her on the receiving end of his father’s lightning; he had seen it vanquish many Titans and giants, Apollo dare not think what would happen should a goddess be struck down.

“Very well, I shall have Aphrodite and her entourage swear a vow not to force love you do not wish upon you.” Zeus promised.

“Thank you, grandfather,” Perseleia said with a gleam in her eye. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some lessons to attend to with Mother.” 

Apollo watched his heart’s beloved disappear in a sea breeze.

His heart ached with the events that happened that day so he returned to his temple. 

In his sacred gardens, he found a laurel tree had grown at the center.

It was only fitting he memorialized his twin’s lieutenant and his beloved’s protector in poetry under the shade of the laurel tree.

Percy drew in a shaky breath as she entered Athena’s aerie.

Daphne, poor sweet, fierce Daphne had become a laurel tree. Sure she had heard of the myth but seeing it and hearing it were completely different things.

“Perseleia, are you back so soon?” Athena cooed from where she was pouring over scrolls and plans for Percy’s temple in Athens.

“Yes, Athena.” Percy put on a smile and, like she was so good at doing, acted like everything was fine.

“And how are Persephone and Artemis?” Athena asked, finding an error that Percy personally didn’t think was there. 

“Artemis needs a new lieutenant. Daphne was turned into a laurel tree due to Eros’ interference.”

“You were right to return to the aerie,” Athena made the adjustment. “I can protect you here until I bring this up with my father.”
Percy nodded and didn’t say that she already had; choosing instead to pick up the flute that Triton gifted her before she left the sea. 

“Athena, perhaps instead of designing a temple for me, could you instead teach me the flute?” Percy asked. 

Athena turned to look at Percy, her fingers tapped the scrolls anxiously. 

“Why would you ever want to play the flute?” Athena was nervous, but why, Percy couldn’t say.

“Why not? It is beautiful, the melody is sweet, and you did create the flute.” Percy bribed.

“I-no. My face contorts and I look ugly when I play. It is a mockery I will not stand for.” Athena snapped, her fists clenched. 

Those were not words Athena thought of herself, someone had said those words before. Percy felt angry on behalf of Athena as well as sympathy; she remembered a time she enjoyed drawing until Smelly Gabe said they looked like a dog threw up on the paper and how she never drew again out of embarrassment.

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to let other people ruin what you enjoy?”

Percy brought the flute to her lips and blew a short note.

“Do I look ugly when I play?” Percy asked. 

Athena looked insulted. “Of course not! You are my daughter and perfect in everything you do! You are absolutely beautiful and there is nothing that you could do that would make you ugly!”

“Then why don’t you believe that about yourself?” Percy challenged. 

Athena looked as stunned as her owls. 

“Come on, teach me to play the flute, and we’ll prove whoever said those lies to you wrong.” Percy said.

Athena had a faint smile on her lips. 

“Very well, let’s begin.”

Chapter Text

When Zeus came to Semele, the whispers from Hera in disguise took over her thoughts. The Princess requested to see Zeus in his full splendor, because he promised, Zeus showed Semele his true self; Semele was instantly vaporized, leaving behind only dust and the fetus from their tryst. 

Zeus took the fetus and stitched it to his thigh until the half god, half mortal Dionysus was born. Zeus placed him in the care of satyrs to keep the infant safe from Hera’s wrath, the satyrs gave him to his mortal aunt and uncle when they could no longer care for him, and the aunt and uncle, took the toddler to the temple of the Athenide and left him there for the goddess to claim.

It took a few years longer than she would have liked, but her daughter’s temple had to be perfect.

Athena had planned everything to perfection and then some, the king of Athens commissioned the best stone masons and architects and builders and artists; Athena could see it, a thousand years from now, her daughter’s cult would still be around, thriving, the center of the world.

Athena was proud but hadn’t she deserved it? 

Her daughter’s temple was glorious and it was just in time for Perseleia’s arrival. 

In a blink of an eye, Athena was down on the beach waiting for Poseidon to drop off their daughter. 

Athena’s excitement could barely be contained; she had to stay composed. She was serene. She was above such things as nervousness. Her daughter will love her temple.

What if she didn’t?

Perseleia would. She loved architecture. She would marvel at designs that could have been drawn by an infant with such longing in her eyes… perhaps a minor goddess of architecture? No, Perseleia would have shown an affinity for it by now. 

It’s too bland.

That isn’t correct. 

There was plenty of statues and art and-

Blue! 

Her daughter’s favorite color!

What if there wasn’t enough blue?

Oh no! Athena couldn’t show Perseleia her temple in its current state!

Perhaps if she-

“Athena, have you been waiting long?” Perseleia broke from the waves before Poseidon did.

“Not too terribly long, no.” Athena felt a coo at the back of her throat at the sight of her daughter.

“Athena.” Poseidon never looked happy to see her. 

“Uncle. Perhaps you would like to join us today. Perseleia’s first temple is complete and her cult is ready to begin with her mysteries.” Athena pushed aside her worries that the temple wasn’t enough; it was her daughter’s, Athena designed it herself, and it was perfect.

Perseleia looked shocked. “I don’t need a temple-”

“Nonsense; every goddess deserves her at least twenty. Your first temple is long overdue.” Poseidon said, placing a hand on Perseleia’s small shoulder. 

“Athens and I wanted her temple to be perfect.” Athena said coolly.

“Corinth has already started her cult.” Poseidon bragged. 

“Athens is her birthplace!” Athena argued.

“Atlantis is where she stepped out of the fountain!” Poseidon shot back.

“Every summer, it’s the same argument.” Perseleia rolled her eyes, hiked up her skirts, and made her way to the city.

“She gets her lack of manners from you.” Athena said.

“She gets odd pets when she lives with you.” Poseidon retorted. 

“Says the god who caved when Perseleia batted her eyelashes and a few tears and gave her a kraken.” Athena said dryly.

“Like you haven’t given into her seal eyes.” Poseidon challenged.

“I have. And that was how I ended up with a skulk of her foxes in my aerie, chasing after my owls, stealing my plans for her temple, and laughing at me.” Athena said.

Poseidon sniggered at the mental image of his rival getting laughed at by his daughter’s foxes.

“She has seals now.” Poseidon said.

“Seals?” Athena raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Amphitrite calls her “seal pup” and Perseleia is too young for politics but she insists upon helping and learning of my court so she follows after the Nereids; it was when she met Proteus to meet the seal herd that she claimed them also as a sacred animal.” Poseidon said, pride evident as he told the tale.

Athena only felt dread.

She didn’t have seals in her daughter’s temple!

“She’s going to hate the temple. She doesn’t have her seals in her temple, she’s going to hate it, she’s going to want to spend the entire summer with her friends and not with me, she’s-” 

Athena stopped when she caught sight of Perseleia, standing before her temple.

“It appears to me Perseleiai is speechless at the sight of the temple and you have nothing to fear.” Poseidon said reassuringly.

Athena came up beside her daughter and studied her daughter’s expression. 

Perseleia looked to be in awe but also, like she was trying to commit the sight of the temple to memory. She had a faint smile on her lips and turned to say something but at the sight of her parents, closed herself off. 

“What is it? Is it the seals? The only reason they’re not there is because Poseidon just told me about them but I can get your seals added!” Athena was quick to assure her daughter.

“It’s not that, I keep expecting someone to be here and they are not.” 

Athena blinked. 

“Who could you possibly expect?” Athena asked. 

“Your high priestess? They should be out here to greet you.” Poseidon sneered at the disrespect. 

“No, she’s-” Perseleia looked sad. “She’s not born yet. But she loves architecture and she would have loved this.” 

“Well, when this priestess of yours is born and when she swears her oaths, she can admire it all she desires.” Athena promised. 

“If it still stands.” Perseleia said dreamily.

Athena and Poseidon shared a look; it wasn’t often that Perseleia had her visions, she would rarely say what they were about; it was upsetting that their daughter did not trust them with the visions so they could protect her from them, that they could not find whatever the vision was about and bring their little owlet peace.

It was also disturbing that she would even suggest that her temple be destroyed.

“Sweet owlet, perhaps we should get you inside the temple? I will have the priestesses sing hymns of your birth to lessen your distress.” Athena led her daughter up the steps and out of the sun.

Hera loathed the woman before her.

Semele, priestess of Zeus, youngest daughter of Cadmus and Harmonia, grandchild to Ares, great grandchild to Queen of the gods herself and yet the bitch had the audacity to sleep with her husband.

Oh how Hera loathed the impudent worm but the bitch was easily manipulated. 

“Oh Beroe, I have a secret I can keep from you no longer. I have to tell someone or else I will burst!” The princess knelt before Hera as she wore the face of an old woman. “When I sacrificed the bull to the God King, I swam in the river Asopus to cleanse myself. As I did, a golden eagle flew overhead and revealed himself to be Zeus!”

Hera knew that. 

Hera felt it every time Zeus betrayed her, every time he slept with another woman, it was like a rusted dagger in the Queen’s heart. 

“Such imagination you have, dear princess. You see omens where there are none.” Hera patted the princess’ shoulder like a grandmother would.

“But it is true, nurse! Zeus came upon me and now I carry his child!” Semele took Hera’s withered hands and placed them upon her stomach, the slightest bump to reveal the pregnancy; Hera could sense the bastard and didn’t need the tramps confession, though it did wonders in damning the princess. 

“Was he charming? Charismatic? Surely it must have been a traveler instead.” Hera sowed seeds of doubt in Princess Semele’s mind.

“It was Zeus himself, nurse. I swear it!” Princess Semele insisted. 

“But did he reveal himself to be a god? Did he show you the splendor of his thunder and lightning? Did he reveal to you the justice it requires to be king of the gods?” Hera pressed. “If it was really Zeus who fathered your child, why wouldn’t he show his true self to you, his Priestess?” 

Semele looked stricken. 

Hera smiled sympathetically but inside she was pleased. 

“No, no he did not.” Semele said faintly.

“To think, my dear child, that you were made a fool of after performing your sacred duties.” Hera crooned with grandmotherly care and caressed her cheek.

“I-no.” Princess Semele got to her feet. “I will prove my child’s father is the King of the gods. He will return to me tonight.”

That traitorous bastard, Hera seethed. 

“He promised me anything I ask. I will ask him to relieve me of my doubts and show his true self to me.” Semele said with determination.

It was too easy.

Hera smiled. 

“He will have no choice if he swears upon the sacred waters of the Styx.” Hera said. 

“Then I will make him swear upon her waters to show his true self to me.” Princess Semele kissed what she believed to be her trusted nurse’ cheek. “Thank you, dear nurse. By tomorrow, you and I shall have our proof.” 

“I can’t wait, my dear.” Hera smiled. 

Semele was lounging on her bed when her lover arrived but she did not get up to greet him. 

“Semele, my love, is something the matter?” He asked. 

Semele’s thoughts were plagued by her nurse’s words. 

They turned over and over in her mind leading to the priestess to doubt herself and the truth of the god she devoted herself to.

“I cannot help but find my mind plagued by worries.” Semele confessed. 

“Tell me, and I shall ease your suffering.” Her lover laid next to her on the bed. 

Semele laughed gently and turned away from his gaze.

“So quick with words and love, but I need you to promise me for this is important.” She requested. 

“Anything my love, I swear to give you anything you ask for.” He said. 

“Would you swear it upon the Lady Styx’s river?” Semele asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“I swear it on the Styx, whatever you desire, I shall give it to you.” He vowed. 

Semele let out a relieved sigh. 

“Then prove it to me that you are Zeus. Show me your splendor and your might and your power. Show me so I no longer believe I am a fool of a woman.” Semele stated her request. 

“You do not know what you ask of me.” He looked stricken.

“You promised me. Reveal yourself to be Zeus as you swore or confess that you have brought shame upon his high priestess!” Semele sat up, tears in her eyes, desperation howling for answers. 

Her lover bowed his head low. 

“Forgive me, Semele.” He said.

He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

He was the thunder clap. 

He was the lightning strikes.

He was the order. 

He was welcoming a traveler off the road.

He was the blood upon the altar, the sacrifice bull. 

He was the eagle call.

He was the wind that kissed her cheeks.

He was-

Zeus looked upon the ashes that were once his lover and pressed his hand upon them as he murmured a prayer of safety for her soul as she joined his brother’s house of the dead.

He felt a brief flicker of life in the ashes and scattered them to find the fetus, their child, still living.

Zeus scooped the underdeveloped fetus and stitched it to his thigh.

“Better the leg, than the head.” Zeus rubbed the spot where his half god child would be safe. “Until you are born, I shall be your mother in her place.”

It was a few months later when the boy was born. 

Zeus gave him the name Dionysus and then entrusted his son into the care of satyrs.

“Protect him, for he will have Hera’s wrath upon him.” 

The satyrs took the child and that was the last he saw of the babe.

He checked in when he remembered to; he didn’t know why the child was now in the care of Semele’s sister, Queen Ino of Boeotia, whatever. So long as he did not have to raise the child himself.

But then a madness came upon the royal family. 

The King, in a bout of insanity, hunted down his own son like a stag. 

Queen Ino and her youngest son lept from the cliffs into the sea.

Zeus cared not; it would be Poseidon’s decision whether to save the woman and child or not.

What he cared for was that his now mortal son had no one to raise him.

Zeus observed as one of the servants snatched the toddler (mortals were so tiny and small compared to gods) and fled the kingdom. Curious to see what would happen, Zeus decided to bless the journey.

He observed in confusion that the destination was Athens. Why would the servant take Dionysus to Athens?

He watched the servant take the infant to the temple of the Athenide and-

Zeus frowned. 

He could not see into Perseleia’s temple. 

He could not see what was occurring. 

Zeus shrugged it off. It wasn’t important anyway.

Percy heard the prayer in her mind, clear as glass, asking for protection on behalf of Dionysus, son of Princess Semele and of Zeus.

Without a word, Percy suddenly found herself before a weary traveler and a toddler that did not look like the Mr. D that Percy knew.

The child had dark, almost purple, curls and striking violet eyes.

If she had to guess, she would say that Dionysus was around two or three years old.

“Goddess, the songs say you are the protector of the half gods, the children born to mortals with divine heritage. I ask for your protection, I ask that you protect this son of Zeus.” The servant begged. 

Percy’s eyes did not stray from the small kid.

He didn’t look scared of her like the others did; he did not shrink in fear or stammer in her presence or fall to his knees. 

Dionysus smiled up at her and with open arms, asked to be picked up.

“Well, how could I refuse someone as adorable as you?” Percy grinned as she did so.

Dionysus laid his head on her shoulder and hugged her neck as he yawned. 

“So you will protect him?” 

“I will, just as I will protect all the demigods, not just the sons of Zeus.” Percy said.

The servant nodded. 

“Thank you, Protector of Children.” The servant bowed their head once more.

“Think nothing of it. It is simply the kind thing to do.” Percy could tell that Dionysus was going to fall asleep. 

“Of course, my Lady.” 

Percy blinked and she was once again in Athena’s aerie.

“Where did you go off-”

Athena paused when she took in the sight of the child in Percy’s arms.

“Dionysus was entrusted to my care. I intend to care for him.” Percy said, laying the now sleeping Mini D in the nest Athena made for her; she placed a purple blanket over the child. “He is your father’s mortal son, but one day, he will be a god.” 

Percy turned to give Athena a smile.

Athena was her own separate person but she was still Annabeth’s mother; some of the similarities were striking and sometimes they were subtle. 

Athena looked utterly confused, then she looked down at the child, then she nodded with understanding. 

Percy didn’t understand why everyone thought she had visions of the future when she didn’t; she just spoke of events, of facts, from the future.

“Well, I shall assist you. You are only a few years old yourself, you shouldn’t have to raise a child alone.” Athena said softly, to avoid waking the child.

“I’m not alone,” Percy grinned. “I have you.” 

Athena smile was so painfully Annabeth’s.

“Of course, owlet.”

Chapter Text

Some lesser known myths of the Athenide that we can infer from surviving artwork, is that oftentimes, she is depicted with wings and carrying a net for the souls of the drowned. Most of the artwork uncovered in temples on islands and by the shore contain the imagery of the Athenide with wings while the most famous and argued version is the Athena Parthenos where she holds in her hand, a winged figure. Most scholars say that the winged figure in the goddess’ hand is Nike the goddess of victory, but others will argue that it is the Athenide, the goddess of loyalty instead. With the loss of the original statue, replications can only be speculated and rely on the sculptor’s artistic decision whether Athena holds Victory or Loyalty. 

Athena rarely recalled her mother’s face but she remembered three things:

1. She knew her mother had grey eyes and was wise. 
2. She knew her mother had fashioned her armor and a robe to wear so Athena would not be naked upon her freedom. 
3. She knew her mother had the softest of wings and when she would wrap Athena up in them, nothing could harm her because her mother was there to keep her safe.

Occasionally, Athena herself would don the wings of her owls and take flight out of curiosity. Had this been the same feeling Metis had felt when she flapped her wings? Was this the same freedom Metis had wanted to share with her daughter? Was this how Metis felt when she wrapped Athena into her wings and whispered promises of freedom?

When her owls took flight, Athena took note of Perseleia’s longing. 

When her daughter returned to the sea, Athena studied the water birds diving underneath the waves and returning with a fish to feed their young. She took note of how the sailors would leave port and upon sighting the sea bird, would proclaim that it was a sign of good fortune. 

Once was unimportant. 

Twice was a coincidence. 

The third time, Athena disguised herself as a fisherman and proclaimed that the goddess Perseleia was giving them her blessing and providing them with safe travels through her father’s sea.

The sailors spread the words of Athena from port to port; the mythos changing as it went from the bird being a sign of Perseleia’s favor, to Perseleia herself guiding them, to Perseleia, upon diving below the waves, was scooping up the souls of the dead to take to her Uncle Hades out of kindness.

Athena was impressed with the ingenuity of mortals and before the month was ended, the albatross was now synonymous with her daughter. Sculptures and artwork and mosaics in port cities and island kingdoms depicted her daughter with the white, grey, and black wings of her bird.

Dionysus, now a young child but not yet ten years of age, believed it was wrong for his adoptive mother to have wings in art when she did not have wings herself and told Athena so. 

“You are absolutely right. Come Dionysus. Gather as many feathers as you can carry. We are going to weave Perseleia a cloak.” Athena shrunk to the size of a medium human as she brought Dionysus to the shore. 

Athena stayed upon the dried sand while Dionysus ran into the waves, splashing and picking up things he thought were pretty before returning to her and giving her the important task of holding his trinkets; the simpleness of mortals never ceased to amaze her but if Perseleia were here, she would say that children had a wonderful imagination. 

Then a sight Athena did not expect to see today brought such joy to her heart. 

She saw Perseleia off in the distance, peeking above the waves of the Aegean with some seals beside her.

Athena’s lips curled up as she let out a happy trill at the sight of her daughter.

Then Perseleia was gone with the next wave. 

Well, it was a joy to see her daughter, however short lived it was.

“Sissy! Look!” Dionysus pointed out past the shoals and sure enough, a pod of dolphins were leaping out of the waves. 

Seeing Dionysus delighted brought another smile to her face. 

Oh, owlet.

You and Dionysus are always so sad to see me go, I thought I would cheer you up while you were here.

Athena watched as Dionysus jumped with each wave crashing on the shore, mimicking the dolphins in the sea.

You have; more than you know.

When the sun set and Dionysus asleep from the excitement of the day, Athena sat down at her loom with the discarded feathers of her daughter’s birds; each stitched was woven with magic, they would protect her daughter and grant her flight.  

When the cloak was done, the grey and white and black feathers shimmered in the light. 

Athena lovingly folded the cloak and covered it until her daughter would return.

It was when Percy was training with Triton when she first saw it: a shimmering, smoky, ghostly thing out of the corner of her eye. 

“Sister, what is wrong?” Triton, ever alert in the presence of his sister, immediately was looking for threats. 

It was both familiar and frustrating the way he was acting like this but it was nowhere near suffocating as he was back-before? In the future?-when Percy knew him. The Triton she knew, after the war with Kronos, had insisted upon her moving under the sea where she would be safe and all but moved into her parent’s apartment when she declined. 

Now, Triton seemed to be content to train her in the various weapons Percy wanted to learn and was content to continue her lessons with the flute.

“Nothing just…” Percy could feel something pull to her.

Percy followed the feeling, Triton swimming close behind, as she came upon more spirits of the drowned. 

“I need a net.” Percy said and suddenly, there was one in her hands. 

As if she knew what to do, in a trance, Percy gathered up the spirits of the dead in her net. Most were sailors and fishermen, some were soldiers, some were travelers with children.

When her net was full, Percy turned to her brother who was watching her with astonishment.

“Do you know the way to the Underworld?” Percy asked her brother.

“Why do you wish to venture there?” Triton asked. 

“I have souls that need rest.” Percy said.

“I will take you. Better myself than Hermes.” Triton muttered under his breath.

Triton led his sister to the Western border of the sea where mortality met with death.

With confidence her brother did not have, Percy strode into her uncle’s realm. 

“We cannot enter without an invitation!” Triton hissed at her. “It’s impolite.” 

“Better to ask for forgiveness, than permission. Besides, Persephone is here.” Percy shrugged off her brother’s worries as she strode the familiar paths of the Underworld. 

Triton had exchanged his tails for human legs to follow her. 

“We are going to be in big trouble.” He said.

“Not as much trouble as you will be if you leave me alone.” Percy teased as she went deeper and deeper.

“Why sisters? Why must father and mother insist on giving me troublesome sisters?” Triton muttered. 

He should be right… there!

Percy found Cerberus guarding the gates of Hades’ kingdom and didn’t hide her grin. 

“Oh my gods! He’s-

“Terrifying. Let’s go-”

“CUTE!” Percy squealed at the sight of Cerberus.

His three heads turned to Percy and Triton. 

“Hi baby! Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy guarding Hades?” Percy cooed. 

Cerberus’ tail wagged and his ears perked up.

“You are! You’re a good boy! You’re the best boy!”

Cerberus lowered his heads to get ear scratches while his tail and hind shook.

“I have some souls for Hades and Persephone. Will you let me pass, sweetheart?” Percy scratched one of his necks and his hind leg thumped the ground.

“Sister, you should-”

Cerberus licked her hands and let her pass.

“How?” Triton asked, once they were past the dog.

“He’s a sweetheart and a good boy. Persephone has nothing but good things to say about him.” Percy only said as she followed the road to the palace. 

Triton only got more and more nervous the farther along they got; he was determined to protect her from each security ghoul and corpse but Percy rolled her eyes at her brother’s attempts and kindly asked them for directions to the throne room.

A ghost led them into Hades’ court where the god sat upon a grand obsidian throne with the bones of the dead supporting it; Persephone, now dressed in dark red and black as opposed to the warm and vibrant colors she wore in the summer, sat at his right with a lovely throne of bone with precious gemstones and vines of belladonna blooming in her presence. 

“Welcome, niece and nephew, to my realm, uninvited you may be. Do you have a message from my brother?” Hades said, while Persephone gave him a pointed look.
“My apologies uncle, we carry no message but Perseleia was rather insistent upon coming to your kingdom.” Triton bowed.

“I have these souls from the sea. I believed it to be fitting they come to you rather than languishing in the ocean depths.” Percy opened her net and the spirits spilled out onto the floor. 

Hades’ eyebrow rose.

Persephone looked delighted.

“A psychopomp! Oooooo this is so exciting!” Persephone clapped her hands. “Now we can see each other in the winter! Oh Hades, isn’t this wonderful?” Persephone took her husband’s hand and squeezed it.

“It is indeed wonderful to meet the niece who has become a dear friend to my wife.” Hades said. “Do you understand your duties as a psychopomp?”

“It is one of my duties to guide souls to your kingdom, uncle.” Percy said.

“Oh, enough of this.” Persephone stood and all but skipped over to Percy. “Come, I must show you my garden, and Asphodel, and Elysium, oh! I have to show you that one punishment we came up with last summer!” 

Persephone looped her arm with Percy’s and led her out of the throne room.

Hades and Triton watching on with a fond expression. 

When her time in the Underworld was at an end, she promised to come back soon with more souls. 

“And this time, we have to include Cerberus.” Percy said. 

“Of course! Oh I’m so happy! I get to show you around my kingdom and you don’t even have to be dead or have an invitation!” Persephone said, giddily.

“I’m going to make you so sick of me.” Percy teased Hades as she left with Triton ushering her out of the land of the dead. 

In the courtroom of Atlantis, Poseidon and Amphitrite rushed to their daughter and scooped her in their arms. 

“Where were you?” Amphitrite said in her clicks and whistles. 

“We were searching the ocean for you everywhere!” Poseidon’s knuckles were white.

“Perseleia discovered a new domain. I was merely escorting her as she learned of her new duties.” Triton said. “I should have alerted you, but I did not want her to go alone. Not without a guide.” 

Poseidon raised his eyebrow and turned to Triton. “What new domain?”

“She is a psychopomp. She took each soul that was drowned and placed them in her net. She then guided them personally past Cerberus and into the court of King Hades and Queen Persephone.” Triton explained. 

“Did you eat anything?” Amphitrite demanded of her daughter, her hand trembling as she held her daughter in her palm. “Tell me you didn’t let her eat anything!”

“I didn’t eat anything while I was down there. I was with Triton and Persephone the entire time. Uncle Hades was hospitable but did not offer me any food.” Percy said, understanding why her father and stepmother were worried but believed their fears to be unfounded; Hades loves Persephone and wouldn’t take any immortal lover so long as she was his queen.

“Good.” Amphitrite brought Percy back into her arms. “Now, you must eat. You had a long day of training and discovering a new domain. We must have a feast and spread the word.” 

Percy smiled but it did not reach her eyes; every day she was stuck in ancient Greece, she could feel her humanity slipping further and further away. How much longer until she no longer cared about the mortals? Would she even want to go back? Could she even go back?

No, she couldn’t think like that. 

She had to return for her mother. 

For the campers.

For Annabeth. 

Annabeth needed one person who would never leave her and Percy was going to be that person. It was only right seeing as Annabeth was the closest person she ever had to a sister.

Athena whispered plans and ideas in the ears of her priests. 

She gave inspiration to artists and watched with delight as they brought her idea to life. 

She couldn’t wait for it to be finished so she could show her daughter.

Athena could see it right now: in her Parthenon, Athena herself would have her shield and spear to guard her daughter, her serpent at her feet resting against her aegis, and in the palm of her hand, would be Loyalty herself.

Chapter Text

Athena was the patroness of Greek heroes while her daughter was the protector of demigods who would become heroes. In the myth of Perseus, you can see their influence in how they interact with the demigod: Athena, by aiding the hero and giving him the tools for his quest, and Perseleia, for protecting him and his mother as they were cast out to sea by his grandfather.

Danaë was not a fool. 

She knew her father desired a son because Danaë would never be able to inherit Argos.

She knew her father went to Apollo’s oracle to determine if he would ever have a son.

She knew whatever the Pythia had said to her father terrified him enough to lock Danaë in a bronze chamber underneath the palace where there was no window to see out, only a forever locked door with a small crack at the bottom to give her food so she could not die.

Her father had thrown her into the bronze chamber and with a crazed smile, had scoffed at how she could never birth a son, and ignored her tears. 

At first Danaë pounded her fists upon the door. 

She howled with grief and fear and loneliness but there was no answer. 

Only food in the morning and evening were the consistencies by which she had not gone mad.

She was going to die of madness before she ever birthed a son.

She didn’t know how long it had been since she was locked up; she had lost count; Danaë bled irregularly since being locked up so that was no longer a reliable way to keep track of time.

She knew her hair was longer. 

She knew her body was fuller. 

She knew that there would never be a son.

Danaë shivered as she wrapped herself in a blanket and curled up in a corner.

When Danaë woke, she woke from the strangest dream: a shower of gold had entered her cell. 

She had no idea what it could have meant and it could have been oncoming insanity from being locked up.

Her body was stiff and sore but then again, she had been sleeping on the floor of a cell for… Danaë didn’t know how long, but the fact still stood: whatever her father feared of her, she would die long before it came true.

Danaë didn’t know how long had passed before she noticed the changes. Was it womanly changes? Was it normal? Was it not? 

Questions ran through her mind as her breasts felt tender to the touch, her stomach felt firmer while at the same time she felt sicker, she ached worse and worse.

And the crying. 

She could not stop crying.

She had gone numb a few days (weeks? months?) after being locked up but before that she had sobbed nonstop.

It was… later, definitely later, when she realized that her stomach was not aching because of bloating or illness; no it was aching because she was pregnant. 

Danaë was horrified. 

She was unmarried and locked in a bronze cell to ensure she would never come with child and yet here it was, kicking her stomach, and Danaë had no idea how it had come to be. Surely it couldn’t have been one of the guards? She would have woken up or felt it or… 

Danaë shuddered as she slid down the wall and sobbed. 

How could she be a mother? 

She was still a child herself! 

Was she? How old was she? How long had passed?

She still wanted her mother’s comfort even if she no longer had her father’s love. 

Oh gods, her father! He would kill her! He would kill her baby!

For the first time since being locked in the cell, Danaë felt something other than hopelessness. She felt rage. She felt angry and bitter and so fiercely protective of the son she would call hers. 

Danaë would protect her child no matter the cost. 

Danaë’s stomach grew. 

And grew. 

And grew. 

She started to tell stories to pass the time. The person who brought her food deemed her mad and would surely tell her father. 

She spoke of the gods and of cities.

Of kings and kingdoms of far away. 

Of monsters that needed to be slayed. 

One day (night?) Danaë felt a sharp pain in her gut.

It was so painful. 

She thought she would die. 

She screamed in agony, pleading for someone to help her. 

Anyone. 

She felt someone hold her hand and Danaë squeezed it tight. 

“It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” Danaë turned and saw the most beautiful woman beside her, holding her hand, comforting her. “We’re here.” 

We?

Danaë looked towards her feet and saw another beautiful woman, shrouded in moonlight with a crescent diadem upon her flaming red hair, kneeling. 

“Hello Princess Danaë. I am Artemis, lady of the hunt, goddess of the wild and of childbirth. I am so sorry that you have to carry my young half brother.” Artemis apologized. 

Danaë could only scream as the pain returned, worse than before. 

“Let it out. You’re doing amazing.” The first goddess said. “Squeeze my hand. You can’t break it.” 

“Perseleia is right Danaë, you can’t break her. Now, I need you to push.” Artemis said. 

Danaë howled as she went through such unimaginable pain but she forgot it all when she saw her son, her precious son, look up at her. 

“He’s beautiful. What will you call him?” Perseleia asked. 

“Perseus.” Danaë whispered, her voice all but lost. “He will be my destroyer and my avenger.” 

“We must go or else unwanted eyes will find us. Danaë, when you escape from here, you and Perseus will always find safety in the sea.” Perseleia promised. 

Danaë nodded; tears streaming down her cheeks as she did so. 

Time passed, though Danaë didn’t know how much, but Perseus was growing. He no longer required her milk. He was a quiet baby which Danaë was thankful for and when he eventually learned to talk, her sweet boy asked for stories. 

“What was the world outside like?” Perseus asked. 

“Not like this.” Danaë answered. 

“What’s this then?”

“A prison.”

“Oh, I thought it was the world.” Perseus said innocently. 

The door opened with a loud crack and Danaë jumped; she had forgotten the door could open after so long of it being shut.

There, bathed in the light of torches and flanked by guards with swords was her father. 

He was angry. 

He was so furious he shook. 

The look he fixed upon Perseus was a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

Danaë scooped up her son in her arms and begged her father for mercy. 

“Don’t kill him! Please! Please don’t kill my son!” Danaë wept.

Perseus didn’t know why his mother wept, only that the door was open and this angry man was scaring his mother. 

Danaë clung to her boy until the guards ripped him from her arms. 

Mother and son screeched and sobbed and pleaded for the other to be released. 

Danaë watched in horror as her father emptied a chest and ordered her to be placed inside. Her only solace was that her son was once again in her arms. 

“Toss them over the highest cliff and into the sea. Let the sea drown them. Let the rocks smash their bones!” The king, not her father, ordered. 

They were dragged. 

Then lifted. 

Then there was weightlessness as they were falling. 

All Danaë could smell was the sea breeze.

Then there was the roar of the ocean as it claimed the chest. 

“Protector of demigods, daughter of the sea, hear me! Please save my son!” Danaë prayed over and over and would pray over and over until either they were saved or drowned.

Perseus clung to her and shook with fear as they waited for death to claim them.

“Hold fast, Perseus. We shall face the storm that was meant to break us because together we are unbreakable.” Danaë said as she kissed her son’s golden curls.

Danaë prayed and prayed to the goddess who helped her through her labors as the ocean rocked Perseus to sleep but not Danaë; she had to keep praying, she couldn’t stop praying. 

Then there was light and a smiling face. 

“Look what the sea has brought us!” The fisherman who freed them said.

“Where are we?” Danaë clung to her son.

“You are on the island of Seriphos. I am a humble fisherman by the name of Dictys. Come, let me help you out of the chest and get you some food.” Dictys offered his hand and Danaë accepted. 

“Poor child. And to think I almost didn’t come fishing today if not for the dream I had last night.” Dictys said as he left to find some of his lunch. 

“I am thankful you did. I don’t know how long we’ve been adrift.” Danaë said, shielding her eyes from the brightness of the world; she spent so long in darkness she was no longer used to the sun.

“Where are you from?” 

“Argos.”

Dictys winced. “You’re a long way from Argos. You may stay with me if you wish or you can find refuge in the Athenide’s temple.”

“After being alone for so long, it would be nice to finally be around people. I will accept your offer to stay.” Danaë said, holding a timid Perseus in her arms. “Though, I would like to make an offering of thanks to the Athenide.” 

“Then to the Athenide’s temple we shall go.” Dictys promised. 

///

“I have an idea.” Perseleia nearly scared him by how silent she could be; Apollo hadn’t even heard her.

Apollo turned and beheld the face of the woman who held his heart but did not trust him with hers. Not yet.

Perseleia looked well; her deep night waves were pulled back into a braided crown with the ocean braids down her back, the very braids that inspired the Caryatids and architects; her ocean eyes bright with mischief and creativity; her lips, the very lips Apollo was forbidden to kiss, were curled upwards in a smile, so similar to his sacred bow.

“Do you want to hear my idea?” Perseleia asked, excitement all but shaking her body.

“I love to hear ideas.” Apollo said, giving his love his full attention. 

“You are the protector of youths. I am the protector of demigods. Correct?” Perseleia said. 

Perhaps… perhaps Perseleia was reconsidering their friendship?

“Correct.” Apollo raised his brow and couldn’t help but smile at the train of thought. 

“Keep an open mind, but you are the only one I can ask.” Perseleia said. 

Perhaps she was finally asking him to-

“We should start a camp!” Perseleia did not ask him to marry him. 

He was confused and in his confusion, Perseleia continued. 

“Think of it! Youths, children of the gods would come and learn how to defend themselves. We could teach them. We could give them a chance to live before they are hunted and killed by monsters.” Perseleia explained. 

“We would raise children together?” Apollo asked. 

“We would teach them how to survive. Archery and weaponry. How to survive in the wilderness. Diplomacy, music, anything and everything.” Perseleia made a very compelling argument.

Apollo would raise a hundred children from a hundred gods if it meant he could be with her. Even if he could only be her friend. 

“No one could argue against us raising and protecting the children because it’s our domain! It’s really against our domains to not do this.” Perseleia did not have to twist his arm because he was already planning who else to aid them and teach. 

“We could get Chiron. He would be an excellent teacher for the boys.” Apollo said.

At that, Perseleia frowned.

“No, not just the boys. The girls will need protection as well.” She placed her hands on her hips. 

“Of course.” Apollo agreed with her, because how could he not? She was absolutely correct. 

“So you will help me?” 

Stars. 

Her eyes shined like stars. 

Her eyes were as beautiful as sunlight reflected off the water.

Her eyes were as shallow and as deep as the sea.

Her eyes were like the riptides she reigned over, pulling him in and never letting him free.

“Always.” Apollo vowed. 

Her smile was brighter than his sun and Apollo will do everything he can to keep her smiling at him. 

She grasped his arms and let out an excited shriek. 

“I have to tell Mother! She’ll love planning and taking part in the design.” Perseleia then took off in the direction of Athena’s temple.

Apollo felt his excitement fall at the mention of Athena; he had wanted to do this together, with her alone.

No matter. 

Apollo would build this camp, this vision of hers, with her. 

He would show Perseleia how he loves her with this. 

He would show Athena that he could be the husband Perseleia deserves.

Until then, he would wait and be her most devoted friend as she requested. 

///

Perseus would dream of the bronze chamber that was his and his mother’s world often but the light and the openness of the Athenide’s temple and the teacher and father he had in Dictys, the smiles from the priestesses who had welcomed him and his mother into their fold, all of that chased away the nightmares. 

His mother and Dictys raised him in the temple and Perseus could almost feel a hand brush through his hair when he prayed to the goddess. 

As Perseus grew, he came to understand why his mother became a priestess rather than the wife of Dictys; it was so King Polydectes did not kill the man and take Danaë for himself. As a priestess, he would pause before drawing the ire of the esteemed daughter of Wisdom and Sea.

Perseus often prayed to Loyalty to protect his mother and felt the faint brush of wings against his arms.

The protection lasted as long as the Athenide remained with her mother and then once again, Perseus was left to defend his mother against the king.

He felt rage as the king snatched his mother away and declared their wedding to be in six days; the fool waited until both Perseus and the Athenide were away. 

Perseus had demanded his mother back in front of the king and the court. 

“Do you have the bride price? Do you have her weight in gold, boy? I intend to make Danaë mine.” Polydectes sneered at him. 

“I have no gold but anything you want in exchange for my mother, I shall give it to you!” Perseus promised blindly.

“Swear it upon your patron.” The king said. 

“I swear upon my goddess, the Athenide, and the Lady Styx who gives her leave.” Perseus swore, “I will give you anything in exchange for my mother’s freedom.” 

“I want the Gorgon Medusa’s head.” The king laughed. 

Perseus saw his mother’s tearful eyes and understood she mourned him already.

“I will return with Medusa’s head. And I will free my mother.” Perseus said, his fists shaking at his side. 

The Athenide was in the sea, but her mother should hear his prayer. 

Perseus went to Athena’s temple and prayed to the goddess. 

“Why do you come to my temple, Perseus?” Athena appeared before him, her eyes shining silver like her spear’s tip.

“The King of Seriphos has abducted my mother, the lady Athenide’s priestess, to be his wife in six days unless I bring him the head of the Gorgon Medusa.” Perseus knelt before his patron’s mother.

A hissing sound emanated from the goddess. 

“How dare!” Athena hissed like a thousand serpents. “How dare Polydectes steal away my daughter’s priestess!”

Athena crouched and brought Perseus to his feet. 

“As my daughter blessed your birth, so shall I bless this quest.” Athena said. 

Before his eyes, it was like the candlelight bent and morphed until in the goddess’ hands was a bright bronze shield; a shield so shiny, he could see his reflection. 

“This shield will assist you; you can never look upon the Gorgon’s face or else her gaze will turn you to stone.” Athena gave him the shield.

It was lighter than he expected. 

Athena brushed his curls and he felt a cap upon his head. 

“This hat will act like Hades’ helm of darkness. When you wear it, you shall be invisible to all.” Athena said.

“Thank you, goddess!” Perseus said. 

“Go. You have my favor, go to the Graeae and they shall tell you where to find the Gorgon.” Athena blessed. 

He came across Hermes the messenger who gave him winged sandals, a pack in which to carry Medusa’s head, and a sword. 

With the sandals, Perseus leaped into the sky and flew to meet the Graeae who betrayed their sister in exchange for their eye.

Perseus flew further and found the Titan Atlas holding up the sky.

“I seek the location of the Gorgon Medusa! Can you tell me where to find her?” Perseus shouted. 

“She lives upon the island of Sarpedon. She never leaves. And if she does, my only wish is that she would turn me to stone.” Atlas grunted under the weight of the sky.

“Thank you! I shall return!” Perseus flew towards the island, determination fueling him.

Athena met him on the shore. 

“She sleeps in that cave over there. Use the shield to look upon her.” Athena said before turning into an owl and flying away.

Perseus gathered his courage. 

He would not let his mother, his patron, or Athena down. 

Perseus put the cap on and made sure his sword and shield were ready. 

At the mouth of the cave, he turned around and took a step back. 

Then another. 

And another. 

Until he came across the three sleeping Gorgons.

The one in the middle is Medusa, Athena whispered in his mind.

Perseus raised his sword and struck. 

As Medusa’s head rolled off, a winged horse and a golden giant burst from her neck, causing a ruckus and waking the other two Gorgons.
Perseus snatched Medusa’s head and ran out of the cave, stashing it in his pack and taking flight before the other two could realize just what had happened. 

He flew past Atlas and took pity on the Titan, showing him the Gorgon’s head and turning him into a mountain range. 

He flew past a kingdom where he saw a beautiful woman chained to a rock.

“Why are you chained?” Perseus asked, taking off his cap.

“Are you Hermes?” She asked. 

“No. I am Perseus.” 

“I am a sacrifice.” She said, her brown eyes fixed upon the water in fear.

“Why?” 

“My mother boasted I was more beautiful than Queen Amphitrite and her daughters. More beautiful than the Athenide. Poseidon demanded my life as payment.” She said. “Go, before you are killed.”

“No.” 

“Then you are a fool.” 

Perseus found himself falling in love with the woman before him.

Something broke the surface and the woman screamed at what was behind him.

Perseus spun around and lifted the head of Medusa to turn the sea monster to stone.

With the Gorgon’s head back in the pack, Perseus used his sword to break her chains.

“Where are your parents?” Perseus asked.

“They are in Aethiopia.” She pointed. 

Perseus picked her up in his arms and carried her to the safety of the cliffs overlooking the sea. 

Perseus had no idea she was a princess, he was just saving her because it was the right thing to do. 

He married Andromeda immediately; her parents wanted them to marry in a month but Perseus explained he had to save his mother. Andromeda agreed to follow him to Seriphos as his wife rather than stay and be married to her uncle. 

“Do you trust me?” Perseus whispered to her.

“I do.” Andromeda clutched his hand as her uncle challenged Perseus. 

“Then avert your eyes.” 

Andromeda buried her face in his shoulder as Perseus freed his hand from Andromeda’s and reached into his pack; upon seeing the Gorgon’s face, Phineus and his allies were turned to stone.

The following morning, Perseus and Andromeda returned to Seriphos. 

Perseus and Andromeda entered the King’s hall in the middle of a celebration. 

“Who’s this?” Polydectes asked, wine spilling from his goblet.

“Don’t you know me Polydectes? You desire my mother.” Perseus led Andromeda in.

“Perseus!” Danaë cried and from her throne besides the king, lept to embrace her son though the guards held her back.

“I have brought you a wedding gift.” Perseus glared at the king. “Would you look upon it?”

“You brought me the Gorgon’s head?” Polydectes scoffed. 

“I have.” Perseus held out the pack.

“Well, well.” Polydectes clapped slowly as he made his way towards Perseus and his family. “The boy seems to have come back with Medusa’s head and a prize.” 

Perseus stepped in front of Andromeda.

“In that case,” he turned to address all in attendance. “Who here is afraid of a children’s story? Don’t be shy, take a peek!” 

When no one stayed, Perseus revealed the Gorgon’s head, turning his mother’s tormentor to stone.

That night, with his mother safely married to Dictys like they had wished years ago, Perseus led his wife to the temple of Athena.

There, he placed the Gorgon’s head upon the altar. 

“So this is the girl said to be more beautiful than my daughter.” Athena’s sharp voice startled the newlyweds.

“My lady, I make no such claim and my parents have already paid for the disrespect towards your daughter.” Andromeda knelt. 

“I bring you the Gorgon’s head. Please spare my wife your ire.” Perseus asked. 

“My daughter stated that since you avenged her priestess from Polydectes, and since she claims to hold no ill will towards your wife, that I am simply to “stay out of it” according to her.” Athena said.

“Thank you.” Perseus said.

“My daughter was right about you, Perseus. She said you would be a great hero and she was right.” Athena picked up Medusa’s head and disappeared with the flap of an owl’s wings.

Chapter Text

But Apollo is as vengeful as he was beautiful. He would not let the slight of Niobe stand; though what the queen said to anger the Twin Archers is in debate, most scholars seem to agree that Niobe insulted their mother. Thus leading the twins to slaughter the seven sons and seven daughters of the vain mortal queen.

Leto knew her son’s heart lay with the goddess of loyalty and tried to soften the ache her son felt each time he was reminded of his oath never to pursue her. 

“Why do you torture yourself so?” she would ask. 

“Because I cannot think of staying away. She is my heart and my soul. She is the shining sea which reflects my light. She is my comfort and my agony. To remain a friend is a fine anguish to pay if the alternative is distance.” Apollo would answer his mother. 

Leto was no fool. 

She knew her son was irrevocably in love with Perseleia. 

To suggest Truth didn’t love Loyalty was to suggest that Artemis marry or Hera takes a lover. 

It was simply preposterous to assume anything else. 

Leto wanted to hate her. Wanted to be cold to the goddess who so cruelly offered friendship instead of marriage but upon seeing the goddess comfort her son after his loss and humiliation of the Bird Race, Leto couldn’t help but feel her heart break alongside Apollo’s; Perseleia would never be her daughter through marriage. 

Her heart was too kind.

Her heart demanded one lover.

Her heart would break should Apollo stray; not that Apollo would ever, Leto had instilled in her son that should he ever take on a lover, that he was to remain faithful to them so long as they were together. She was determined not to raise another Zeus.

She was having a fine day when it happened. 

Her nymph attendants were gossiping about the training camp Perseleia had started. It was supposed to be a camp for the children of gods and mortals, not just the Olympians, but everyone. Perseleia had enlisted Athena to design the temples where the children would stay and tend too whilst there. Apollo, Artemis, and Hestia, Perseleia had decided, were going to be the most important gods of that camp to the surprise of everyone; not that Leto was surprised, her children were the protectors of youth and Hestia was the goddess of home and family.

What did surprise Leto, was that Perseleia insisted the others be worshiped over her. It was odd seeing a goddess so humble, especially about something so important.

“I heard from my cousin who’s a pine tree, that the few children of Apollo that are there, have taken to calling her ‘mother’ behind her back, but they willingly say it in front of Lord Apollo.” A dryad gossiped. 

“I heard that she teaches classes herself!”

“The children, those demigods, constantly are begging for her attention. Honestly, why would any goddess, let alone Perseleia, willingly carry a child or two that isn’t hers?”

“Because Perseleia is different. She’s kinder. Softer. She’s far more loving than any god here. Because she loves the children and because she loves to see them as they are, not what they will become.” Leto said, stifling the gossip. “Now, unless you have anything constructive or informative to say, do not speak ill of Perseleia or the children under her care.” 

The nymphs flushed and turned back to who Zeus had slept with now, who had turned into a flower, how many children Helios fathered with Perse now that Apollo has taken the sun; no wonder Perseleia was hesitant to marry Apollo when she witnessed what Helios had done to Rhodes.

Poor Rhodes, it was coming up on the anniversary of her daughter’s death… Leto should do something special for-

And then she heard it.

What was supposed to be a celebration of Leto for honor and thankfulness turned to mocking. Scorn. And pride.

“How dare my own people praise Leto when you can see with your own eyes! Why should Leto be honored with worship rather than I? My father was the son of Zeus himself! My mother a goddess! My husband has built Thebes and brought it to prosperity! I am beautiful and godly just as Leto, moreso in fact: how many children do you see when I give birth? I have birthed seven sons and seven daughters. Seven sons who are worth the goddess of Loyalty’s hand; seven sons to choose from who will not lose to a bird. Do you still prefer this Leto to your queen? Fortunate am I and fortunate I shall remain!” The queen of Thebes boasted. 

Leto was furious. 

How dare that queen insult her son, her shining Apollo. 

How dare that queen speak of her sons like they are worthy of winning Perseleia’s hand.

If anyone was worthy of winning Loyalty’s hand, it was certainly Apollo.

“Excuse me: I must see my children. I have been insulted and they must deliver judgement.” Leto stood gracefully. 

She went inside her temple on Olympus and summoned her children.

“Mother? Are you alright?” Apollo asked. 

“I need my children to correct an injustice made against me and a foul remark made upon your loyal friend.” Leto said. 

Artemis looked furious; her eyes as cold as her moon. 

Apollo’s eyes flashed as golden as his sun.

“What slight?” Artemis growled. 

“Niobe, Queen of Thebes, has claimed that she is more worthy of worship than I simply because she has given birth to seven sons and seven daughters.” Leto said. 

“That is not all. What else did she claim? What else has you worried so?” Apollo asked. 

Leto looked at her son with compassion.

“Niobe also claimed that her sons are more worthy of marriage to Perseleia simply because they would not have allowed an owl to beat them.” Leto placed a hand on her son’s shoulder; the intense heat of her son never harmed her. 

“Come brother. Let us avenge our mother and our dear friend.” Artemis got her bow ready and pulled her brother out of the temple. 

Satisfied, Leto went to Athena’s temple.

“What brings the mother of my daughter’s insistent suitor to my temple?” Athena asked. “Are you here once more to speak on behalf of your son? Or are you here with hopes of swaying my daughter’s mind?”

Biting back a remark, Leto instead said, “I am here simply to inform you that my children are going to enact justice for a slight made against your daughter and to offer you a view from which to watch.” 

Athena’s eyes narrowed. 

“What slight?” she hissed. 

“A mortal queen dared to boast about how her sons would easily win your daughter’s hand. If no gods could win your challenges, surely no mortals could do it.” Leto said.

“No, no one is worthy for my daughter.” Athena said. 

Leto would beg to disagree, but now was not the time.

“Would you like to accompany me as I watch the divine wrath of my children?”

“If it is to avenge my daughter’s honor, then how can I refuse?” Athena said, following Leto.

The Titan and the goddess watched with glee as Apollo and Artemis rained down their arrows, slaying the fourteen children of Niobe.

When the people tried to help the children, Athena simply waved her hand and turned them to stone. 

Niobe screamed and cried to the heavens, to the gods to stop but Apollo kept shooting his poisoned arrows at the sons; ensuring them a slow and painful death.

The daughters cried out for their mother only to choke on their own blood and silver arrows. 

The sons writhed in agony as they were pierced many times with golden arrows; each one carrying a different plague, each one more painful and more deadly than the last until finally, a well aimed arrow to their phallus delivered enough pain to finally end their suffering.

“Well aimed, Apollo.” Athena said. 

“If Niobe wanted to keep her children alive, she shouldn’t have insulted my mother or your daughter.” Apollo lowered his bow. 

“Indeed. My daughter would never think of marrying a human, let alone take one for a lover.” Athena sniffed. 

“They are not worthy of her.” Apollo watched as Niobe sobbed, surrounded by blood and stone.

“Of that, we agree.” Athena turned to Leto. “Thank you for the show. Now if you excuse me.” 

Athena left Leto alone with her children.

“What will you say to Perseleia?” Artemis turned to her brother. 

“The truth; that mother was insulted.” Apollo said, his eyes slowly turning back to sky blue.

“And that she was insulted as well?” Leto raised an eyebrow. 

“I will speak if she asks.” Apollo said. 

“You aren’t going to boast of protecting her honor?” Leto asked. 

“No. She knows I would protect her honor just as I will protect you and Artemis,” 

“I can take care of myself.” Artemis said.

“It’s the principle. I want Perseleia to love me because she has fallen in love with me, because she knows me, all of me. I want her to desire me as I desire her because she has ruined me for any but her. I want her to want me because she loves me as fiercely as the waves crash upon the shore, as the sun beats down upon the sailors’ backs. She has prophesied that she will not think of me that way until a child of mine is born because of some future that is blind to my sight. Until then, I will wait. Until then, I shall remain her friend because that is what she has requested of me. Until then, she holds my heart while my lovers are a cheap imitation of her. And when we are finally wed, I will tell her how desperately in love I am with her, how I will never have another mortal lover, and that any child from that point on I father, will be hers.” Apollo vowed. 

Artemis placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder in comfort. 

“She has spoken of these children of yours with great fondness and great sadness. They must be incredibly important and dear to her heart if she breaks yours so they must be born.” Artemis said softly.

Leto stiffened; it wasn’t cruelty that Perseleia knew Apollo’s heart and rejected it: it was Fate and prophecy that forced her too. 

Perseleia had declared many times that she would expect complete loyalty from any partner should she decide to take one.

If Apollo had to have these children, and if he had married Loyalty, when he had planned, it would have destroyed her heart.

By keeping Apollo at a distance, Leto saw, Loyalty was sparing them both the pain of future infidelity. She was protecting Apollo from the Fates cruel interference. 

Perseleia was protecting Apollo just as much as he was protecting her.

“Oh my son,” Leto pulled Apollo into her embrace. “How I wish the children to be born so you can finally marry your love.”

“As do I, because each time I lay with another, it tears at my heart because it is not her.” Apollo said. 

“One day, it will be.” Leto assured him. “And then neither of you will stray.” 

It was meant to be a comfort.

How could it have gone so wrong?

Chapter Text

The satyr Marsyas was another recipient of Apollo’s wrath. The satyr found the flute Athena had cast aside after the mockery from Hera, Demeter, and Aphrodite and proceeded to claim it as his; unknowingly picking up the cursed instrument. Athena never played the flute again but is believed to have taught her daughter, the Athenide, how to play which is why Loyalty is sometimes depicted as playing the instrument.

Upon playing the flute and discovering how sweet a sound it made, the satyr then proclaimed he was greater than Apollo, that he should be the god of music instead.

“What did you just say?” Apollo asked, forcing a calm demeanor in front of the many nymphs and satyrs present; only the heat of the day betraying how angry he was. 

Marsyas merely stood firm. 

“I said that you are only the god of music because of your luxury, of your deep purple robes and your golden curls! I said that you are only eloquent in prose and song because you are surrounded by the Muses. I said that you have only played so brilliantly because you are a god and can therefore only show brilliance. You have not learned, or studied; you bring shame where you present virtue.” Marsyas stated in his challenge.

“Well that’s good, I was afraid I had misheard.” Apollo clenched his jaw as he wore an easy going smile.

The nymphs and satyrs present, with the exception of Marsyas, sent nervous glances to one another. 

“I, however, would like to disagree.” Apollo said, brightly with indignation; Perseleia would be upset with him if he did not offer the nature spirit a chance to apologize to him. He didn’t understand why she was so fond of the satyrs. “Unless you want to retract your comment.”

“You wouldn’t have won the Bird Race if you yourself had run against Athena’s owl.” Marsyas boasted.

Forget anger. 

Apollo felt pure, unadulterated wrath.

“Very well. A challenge, then? To see who really is the better musician. But you have played for these lovely nature spirits and are known by them, therefore, they may be biased towards you so I propose a neutral judge to oversee the competition.” Apollo maintained eye contact with the satyr.

“Of course. I have complete faith in my playing. Who do you call to judge?” Marsyas asked. 

“The goddess Athena, wisest of the gods.” Apollo summoned with a silent prayer that his sister listen to him and answer for once. 

Athena appeared in the meadow and fixed her brother with a look of pure annoyance. 

“Apollo, this had better be important or so help me…” Athena threatened.

“Sister, we have had our fair share of competitions and races. I need you to judge a music contest between myself and the satyr Marsyas.” Apollo began.

Athena gave him an expression that others would describe as cold but Apollo knew his sister; he could see the annoyance she felt at being requested to judge such an asinine competition.

Apollo…. What the actual-

He’s too proud. He needs to be taught a lesson.

I have actual duties to do. 

Please? Sister, please.

Athena sighed and rolled her eyes but she did not leave the meadow.

“I trust you have the musical instruments you are going to use?” Athena found the nearest log and sat on it.

Marsyas held out the flute he intended to play while Apollo brought out his cithara.

“Fine. Begin. I want this over with. I am missing valuable time with my daughter to be here.” Athena huffed. 

“Of course, dear sister.” Apollo gestured for Marsyas to begin.

Apollo observed his sister as the satyr played on the flute. It was a lively tune, sure, but it lacked refinement and poise. It was a simple melody with occasional fast tones but it was just that: simple.

She did not look impressed and truly, who would after hearing the sweet melodies Perseleia would play.

When the satyr was done, he looked to Athena expectantly.

Athena simply turned to Apollo. 

“Well, get on with it.” Athena sighed. 

Apollo played a song he had composed; a song that he had hoped to play at his wedding to Perseleia. He had perfected the dancing tune after many sleepless nights; the melody rising and falling like the waves, he could easily envision Perseleia twirling and leaping as he played for her. 

There were words he could sing, but Apollo didn’t dare.

When he stopped plucking the strings of his cithara, he heard sniffles and saw a nymph wipe tears from her eyes.

“Congratulations: you’re both good musicians. I’m going now.” Athena stood up to leave.

“No!” Marsyas protested. “There has to be a winner!”

“What part of ‘I am missing valuable time spent with my daughter’ do you not understand? I don’t want to be here.” Athena’s patience was running thin.

“You need to pick who the better musician is! The laughter-loving Perseleia does not deserve an inferior musician to woo her!” Marsyas shouted. 

Athena went still and Apollo could see the moment she made her decision. 

“Fine.” Athena said coldly. “A second round, then.” 

Marsyas played another tune; where the first song he played was lively, this tune was rather dull.

“Hmm. Apollo.” Athena waved him on with a gleam in her eyes.

Well, time to go in for the kill. 

Apollo played a song; a favorite of Perseleia's, describing the ascension of Dionysus and of his discovery of wine, of how he was captured by pirates but turned them into dolphins, of how he caused the sane to abandon inhibitions and descend into madness. 

It was her favorite because he wrote it with her.

Athena knew this.

“He can’t sing! That is cheating!” Marsyas shouted in anger.

“You used your breath from your throat to play your flute, it was only fair that I get the same courtesy with singing or else how is it fair?” Apollo debated. 

“A sound argument.” Athena said, turning her eyes onto the nymphs. “Are there any who would disagree when I declare Apollo as the victor?”

No one contradicted Athena.

Apollo was declared the winner. 

“Do what you wish now, I don’t care.” Athena stood and dusted herself off. “I have a daughter to spend time with.” 

Athena disappeared. 

“Now, for your accusations and your hubris and especially for your comment about Perseleia, you have to be punished.” Apollo said, a hunting knife where his cithara had been.

Marsyas paled as Apollo advanced. 

“Don’t worry, this will hurt a lot.” Apollo promised. 

Athena returned to her aerie and Perseleia was waiting where she had left her. 

“What were you pulled away for?” Perseleia asked. 

“A music contest needed a judge.” Athena sat across from her. 

“Apollo would be better suited. Or the Muses.” Her daughter said. 

“Apollo was in the competition,” Athena sighed. “He won, obviously.” 

“Obviously.” Her daughter snickered. 

“Now,” Athena stared at the board before her: sixty four squares, sixteen pawns, two queens and two kings, ‘knights,’ a priest or ‘bishop,’ and something called a ‘rook’ were spread out on the board before her and Perseleia. “This game you made is called “chest?”

“Chess,” Perseleia corrected kindly. “The rules are simple and you’ll love this once you get the hang of it. It’s all about strategy.” 

“I like strategy.” Athena looked at the board in curiosity. 

“Now, the pawns have to be moved first and they can only move forward. Two spaces or one for the first turn, only one space at a time for each move after their initial move. They can only capture your opponents if they attack diagonally. I will explain further as we progress as well as point out moves you could do. Are you ready?”

Athena smiled at how her daughter lit up while explaining. 

She had obviously wanted to share the game with her, was obviously excited to show her the game she created, and had obviously carved each piece with care.

Her daughter must be a wonderful teacher to the children at her camp.

“I was born ready.” Athena stated; it was true, she was born fully formed and dressed for war.

Her daughter grinned. 

“Alright. White moves first.” 

Apollo was covered in blood when he was done.

The nymphs had long since fled and the satyrs had made themselves scarce the moment they saw the hunting knife in his hand.

Marsyas was still twitching. 

A river of blood dripped from where Marsyas hung on the tree; the bark digging into the exposed muscles and nerves causing the satyr to cry out in agony. 

Marsyas had long since stopped begging for mercy. 

Marsyas had insulted Apollo, had made demands of Athena, and had intentions of wooing Perseleia; Apollo could not let that slide. He was willing to forgive the satyr for Perseleia’s sake but then he had to yell at Athena, he had to bring up Perseleia… 

Marsyas had to be made an example of what would happen should anyone dare yell at his sister.

Not even Zeus, in all his tempers, had dared raise his voice against his favorite daughter.

That was an insult Apollo would not forgive. 

Let the poets say he felt slighted at the insult to his music.

Let the historians declare that Apollo was petty in his vengeance.

But no one yells at his sister.

Chapter Text

Apollo had many lovers who met unfortunate fates of vegetation; Daphne who became the laurel tree to flee his advances, but also the Spartan prince Hyacinthus, son of the Muse of history, Clio. While throwing a discus, Zephyrus, in jealousy the prince chose Apollo, shifted the winds so the discus flew back at Hyacinthus and struck him in the temple; killing the prince with one hit. As Hyacinthus died in his arms, Apollo turned him into the hyacinth flower so he could live forever.

C amp Imítheos was nothing like the Camp Half-Blood of her memories but that was okay, because Percy was determined to build it up from the ground with good foundations, with good structures; like how Annabeth said, to be a good architect, you had to meet the needs of the people who will use it the most. 

Percy was determined to build a camp where everyone was welcome at the start, where family was most important, where kids could learn how to survive and still be children. 

The demigods back home deserved this. 

Percy was overseeing the children playing in the water when Apollo appeared next to her. 

“You’re not in the water with them. ” he stated. 

“They believe being the daughter of Poseidon means I will cheat at the game and have entrusted me with the important duty of keeping score.” Percy said, her eyes falling to the animal in Apollo’s arms. “And who is this?”

“This creature,” Apollo held up the adorable animal, “reminds me of you.”

“I remind you of an otter?” Percy laughed as she petted the otter’s fur.

“Of course; you’re both playful and social, you both live on land and the water, you are both very clever and creative. And,” Apollo held the otter out to her to hold, “you’re both very cute.”

“Now I know you’re teasing me,” Percy burst out laughing as she held the otter in her arms. 

“I am not!” Apollo looked affronted. 

“Yes you are, don’t deny it.” Percy teased.

“Children!” Apollo called over to the children playing. “Come here and settle something for us.” 

The young demigods ran over to Percy and Apollo; the younger ones cooing at the otter as they have never seen one before. 

“I need your help with an important task: I believe that this otter should be Perseleia’s new sacred animal because it reminds me so much of her. Perseleia, cannot see it.” Apollo said, crouching down so he could look at the children from their level. “Help me convince her?”

The young children nodded. 

Apollo took the otter from Percy and set it down in front of the children. 

“This otter will play with you. When you are done with your games, I want you to tell Perseleia that this otter should definitely be her sacred animal.” Apollo said with the same seriousness as when he debated with Ares over bows and swords.

The children looked delighted and took off, the otter trailing behind them.

“You didn’t have to rope the children into this.” Percy said. 

“You don’t believe me and that is something that must be changed.” Apollo said.

“Of course I believe you, you speak the truth. It is more of the fact that I believe I have enough animals.” Percy said.

“I don’t believe you have enough.” Apollo argued. 

“And that is your belief, sunshine.” Percy said. 

She knew the look in his eyes. 

He couldn’t look at her like that. 

He can’t look at her like she was the one to set the world in motion or to have set the stars in the sky.

No.

Percy cannot give into the stupid feelings she had for Apollo. 

She would demand complete loyalty from him and she knew he would give it to her but at some point, the Fates had to let her go back… didn’t they? 

It wouldn’t be fair to Apollo to finally give him what he wanted, a partner who would stay and wouldn’t die, a partner who wouldn’t run away and hurl themself into the sea or turn into a plant, only to wake up one day and discover that Percy had vanished without a trace. 

And anyway, it wouldn’t be fair to Michael and Lee. Will had to be born. Kayla and Austin and everyone in Cabin 7 deserved to live. Percy couldn’t trade them just because she had a stupid crush on their dad.

“Why don’t you ask it of me?” Apollo asked once more.

“Your children are vital to humanity, to the future. There will come a war and your children are all that stands between annihilation and life. I cannot ask it of you because I refuse to condemn humanity, the mortals.” Percy said softly. “I’m so sorry.” 

Apollo looked over to where one of his daughters, a small girl with blonde hair and green eyes by the name of Phoebe, played with the otter. 

“Haven’t they been born yet?” Apollo asked. 

“No.” Percy said.

Apollo said nothing as he stood beside her; as they watched the children.

Phoebe shrieked with laughter as the otter chased her in the shallows. 

“Thank you, for the otter.” Percy said.

“Thank you for the friendship.” Apollo said. 

“That's all I can give.” 

“That’s okay.” 

“I’d be a rotten wife.” Percy said with self-deprecation. “Really, I’m doing you a service.” 

“No you wouldn’t.” 

“I would.”

“No. You know why?”

“Because I don’t hold my tongue and I would cut off a man’s dick if he cheated on me?”

“I would expect you to cut off anyone’s dick if they had the stupidity to cheat on you but you would make a wonderful wife simply because you’re you.” 

“I have been reliably informed that I am impertinent.” Percy said.

“You are that yes.” Apollo laughed. 

Oh, why does he have to have an amazing laugh?

“Apollo, please don’t hold yourself back from happiness just because you are waiting for something. You will be waiting a very long time.” Percy looked at him with sympathy.

“That’s okay. I’m a god. I have all the time in the world.” Apollo grinned at her.

Percy decided to let the children name her otter.

They named her Vídra.

///

Apollo knew he was not married to her, nor was he even remotely close to being engaged to her, but he still felt the need to come forth and be honest with Perseleia about this new relationship. Honesty was important to her and so he wanted to be honest with her about this: Apollo was fond of the Prince Hyacinthus of Sparta and cared for him.

“Perseleia, I need to tell you something, something important.” Apollo said. 

“Of course.” Perseleia stepped away from the nymphs she had been talking to. “What’s wrong?”

“I am seeing someone. My feelings for you have not changed, but I cannot help but feel I am betraying you all the same. I wanted to be upfront and honest with you.” Apollo said.

“I can tell this is very important to you but I promise I am not angry with you. We are friends, Apollo. I only want happiness for you.” She said this like she wasn’t withholding his happiness by refusing to take him as a husband.

Apollo was struck by the truth in her words. 

He had expected Perseleia to react jealously and passionately like Hera when she learned of Zeus’ affairs. He had expected Perseleia to storm off to find whatever nymph or woman or man who had caught his eye and curse the child of the union but no.

She congratulated him on the birth of his child. She welcomed his children into camp with open arms and a warm smile. She let his children sit on her lap and tell her stories they had made up and she held on every word. 

How could someone so perfect be so far out of reach?

“You are not mad at me?”

“No, how could I?”

“You were mad about Niobe’s children.” 

“That was different. Niobe had insulted your mother. I would have done the same had someone insulted mine but probably not to the extent of what you did.” Perseleia said.

Apollo raised an eyebrow at her. 

He heard from his sisters that Perseleia was rather creative when coming up with punishments for the Underworld but neither Artemis or Persephone would tell him just what Perseleia had suggested. 

“I am curious what you would have done.” Apollo said.

“And I am curious about this person who has caught your interest. Just who is the lucky mortal?” Perseleia turned the conversation back to his infatuation with another person. 

“Clio’s son. Prince Hyacinthus of Sparta.” Apollo said and instantly regretted it; the stricken look upon Perseleia’s face, the horror in her eyes, the resigned acceptance. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Her lips parted but no words could come out.

“Perseleia, as my… as my friend, I am begging you, what do you know?” Apollo asked her. 

“Your love with Hyacinthus will be told throughout the ages.” Perseleia said, sorrow in her voice. 

“And?” Apollo demanded. 

“Apollo, I wish you every happiness, and I pray I am wrong, but I see only death.” She said. 

Apollo stumbled back as if stricken but then he felt resolve come over him; he fixed her with a defiant look and said,

“Ask me.”

“What?” Persleia asked.

“Ask me not to pursue the prince. Ask me to never set eyes upon another person. Ask me to never look at another the way I look at you.” Apollo begged her. 

“I can’t.”

“Yes! You can! You can ask this of me! You are the only one with such privilege.” Apollo insisted. 

“But you love him.” Perseleia said; tears now forming in her eyes. 

“I-” he wanted to say he loved her, that he only loved her but he couldn’t. His oath forbade him from saying the words he most wanted to tell her. 

“You love him, don't deny it. How can I ask you to never see him again when I know you love him so? How can I ask you to stop seeing the one who makes you smile brightly?”

You make me smile so brightly!

It is you I love so desperately and most ardently! 

It is you who is the source of all my prose and poems!

It is you who is my muse and my inspiration!

But he couldn’t say any of it.

He was forbidden from saying any of it.

“Per-”

“Don’t ask me to take away your happiness. I cannot.” Perseleia now had tears running down her face and Apollo felt like the worst person in the world.

He wanted to shout at her that she was his happiness. 

“I have seen Hyacinthus’ death.” Perseleia wiped her tears and tried to calm herself. “I will do what I can to prevent it. I believe the future can change for the better.” 

She left him standing there; taking what shattered pieces of his heart with her. 

///

Percy had known of Hyacinthus and had dreaded hearing his name ever since she woke up in that fountain. 

He was destined for a brief and glorious affair and then a tragic death. 

It would wreck Apollo. 

She couldn’t let it happen. 

Apollo was her friend.

Hyacinthus fell under her domain as a demigod.

Percy was determined to protect him.

She was there. Always watching, always silent; searching for the threat against Apollo’s happiness and Hyacinthus’ life. 

“You are not welcome here.” Percy said when she found Zephyrus.

“Neither are you; you have spurned Apollo’s advances and now you lurk in the shadows of his new relationship?” Zephyrus scorned. 

“I am protecting the demigod Prince. What are you doing here?” Percy said sharply.

“I am merely-”

“Spying?”

“Admiring.” He defended. 

“The scenery? It is quite lovely.” Percy didn’t believe the West Wind for a moment he was admiring the view of the land. “You are married, Zephyrus.”

“So is the god king, yet that doesn’t stop him from rearing bastards or you from raising them.” Zephyrus sniped. 

“I do not condone my uncle’s actions towards his wife and I will not allow my personal feelings on the matter interfere with my duties to the children. Stay away from Hyacinthus. He is under my protection and Apollo’s wrath will be nothing compared to mine.” Percy threatened. 

“Wrath?” Zephyrus got up in her face. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Percy felt a growl at the back of her throat, something low and sinister, like a monster from the depths waiting to be released upon unsuspecting sailors.

“Leave.” Percy said once more.

Zephyrus gave Hyacinthus one last longing glance before disappearing.

It was a couple of months before Zephyrus had struck.

He had waited until Percy had gone into the sea to be with her father when she felt one of her charges leave her care, when she heard grieving pleas for her to spare him, to not take him from Apollo.

Percy left her Queen mother’s side to appear back on the land. 

She appeared next to a sobbing Apollo and a broken Hyacinthus, his temple split and gushing the last of his blood, a shattered discus next to the dead Prince.

“Oh, my sweet.” Percy’s heart broke because while he had not gone to her camp, he was still one of hers. 

She knelt next to him and laid a hand over his eyes. 

“He’s gone.” She said, whispering as if he were merely asleep.

“No, no, no.” Apollo sobbed. 

He wasn’t one of the drowned, but Percy picked up the soul that was floating next to them in her arms as if it were a child. 

“I will take him personally to Elysium.” Percy waited for Apollo to get up, to follow her, to come with her to petition Hades and Persephone to release Hyacinthus and to raise him to immortality.

Apollo loved him. 

Apollo could do it.

Apollo shuddered as raised a trembling hand and before her eyes, Hyacinthus’ body transformed into the beautiful flowers. 

“He shall remain beautiful and immortal for all time.” Apollo sniffed. “I… I must take some to Clio.”

Apollo gathered up some of the flowers and left for Olympus.

With a heavy heart, Percy carried Hyacinthus down to the Underworld.

Zephyrus did not fear Perseleia; she was soft and when someone dared speak ill of her, it was quickly dealt with by three Olympians and not the goddess herself.

Zephyrus did fear Apollo’s wrath and so ran to Eros and pledged his service to the god in exchange for protection against the son of Zeus.

Zephyrus did not fear Perseleia when she arrived at Eros’ palace and demanded that Zephyrus be brought to her.

He had no fear of the mild daughter of Athena so he willingly stood before her.

“I told you to stay away from Hyacinthus.” She snarled. 

“And I did.” Zephyrus said. 

“You killed him.” 

“From a distance so I did in fact “stay away” from him like you asked.” 

Her body shook with anger. 

“I don’t fear you.” He said.

“You will.” Her voice changed; it sounded like a multitude of her, it sounded like a creature from the dark depths of the sea, it sounded like the stuff of nightmares.

“I have the protection of my Lord Eros.” Zephyrus boasted.

“From Apollo. Not from me.” The protector of demigods advanced.

As Zephyrus lay in a pool of ichor and broken feathers, wingless and crippled, he remembered that her father was the Father of Monsters and she inherited his wrath.

Chapter Text

“Then again, Poseidon has tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam…”

“Something about a golden net? Poseidon and Hera and a few other gods… they, like, trapped Zeus and wouldn’t let him out until he promised to be a better ruler, right?”

“Correct. And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since.”

Hera had locked herself in her temple and sobbed. 

Why wasn’t she enough?

Why after all the trouble Zeus went through to pursue her, to change his shape, to hide her in that cave as he did what he wished, the lies and the trickery and the kidnapping… Why wasn’t Hera worth keeping the vows of marriage?

Why was she, the goddess of marriage condemned to live in a marriage where her husband constantly roamed, had more bastards than legitimate children, constantly was roving wherever his dick lead?

What was so special about the mortals?

What did they have that she didn’t?

Why did she care so much?

Hera wrapped her arms around herself as she wept, curled up behind her altar.

Footsteps echoed off her pristine walls. 

“Go away!” Hera commanded, her voice trembling.

The footsteps only came closer until someone was just on the other side of Hera’s altar.

“Hera?” Perseleia called out.

That incessant little wench!

How dare she!

How dare the Queen of Bastards come to her, when Hera is like this, and parade around her mocking presence.

“I am your Queen and I am ordering you to leave me. I am ordering you to tell no one of this! Go or I will turn you into an insect!” Hera shouted but she did not uncurl.

Perseleia said nothing and for a moment, Hera wondered if she was going to leave. 

She didn’t. 

The goddess simply came around to the other side of the altar and sat next to Hera. 

She wrapped her arms around her. 

She held her. 

“What are you-” Hera was confused. 

Perseleia only ran her fingers through Hera’s hair and held her.

“I won’t tell anyone of this, but I am not leaving you alone. You shouldn’t have to deal with this alone.” Perseleia said.

Hera was reminded of her days with Tethys, with Macris, the kind women who had raised her for Rhea’s sake until Kronos was once more taken by madness and had eaten her like her sisters before her.

Tethys, the wonderful woman Hera named mother, who had cared for her, had looked after her, who had been everything Hera wanted to be like as a mother; she had done this. She had held Hera like this in the beginning when Rhea had left her. She had run her fingers through Hera’s hair. She had sang a lullaby while rocking the trembling goddess. 

“Why am I not enough for him? Is there something wrong with me?” Hera wept.

“No. None of this is your fault.” Perseleia said. 

“Why can’t you just kill them? They are proof of his broken vows to me.”

“I cannot kill the children anymore than you could abandon your marriage vows.”

“Haven't I given him everything? Sons, daughters. I have held Olympus together while he seduces mortals. I have kept the council from falling apart, I have kept my siblings together the best I could… I don’t know what to do!” Hera sniffed. 

Perseleia used her himation to wipe the goddess’ tears.

“Very dumb question, but have you tried talking about it with him?” She asked. 

Hera scoffed. “Talking with Zeus is like talking to a stone.”

“No, you’re right about that.” Perseleia sighed. “But he’s not going to change unless something drastic happens. Either he listens or he has to face the consequences of his actions. No king should treat his queen like this. Hasn’t anyone else brought this up?” 

“He won’t let the others have a say in the council, let alone our marriage. They’re only there for appearances.” 

“Well, that explains my father's bad moods.” Perseleia teased to try and get a smile out of Hera. 

It didn’t work.

She cleared her throat and then continued, “if Zeus continues on like this, he’ll have a rebellion on his hands. Something has to change.” 

Hera’s eyes sparked at the word rebellion.

It was risky. 

It was drastic.

It was the only choice.

“This is madness!” Poseidon hissed at his sister.

“This is the only way!” Hera whispered. “Apollo, Athena, surely you see the reason for this? The wisdom of why we must do this!”

“I concede that father’s irrational anger and erratic behavior is cause for concern. I must admit that it has gotten to the point where I am glad for my daughter’s return to the sea; at least there, I know she will be safe from father’s wrath and attention.” Athena said slowly.

Poseidon and Athena shared a nod of understanding.

“His weakness for pretty women interferes with his duties as a king. While I occasionally have my dalliances, I do not allow it to my duties.” Apollo said.

“We could be a council of equals. We would vote on matters, everyone will have a say. No one ruler will make decisions with the guise of democracy.” Hera promised.

“A council of equals you say? Why not. I like it.” Poseidon agreed. 

“A council. An actual democratic council.” Athena said, ideas forming in her mind.

Hera felt her lips curl in a smile. 

This was easier than she had thought.

“Great. We need strong rope. Or the chains that Hephaestus used for Ares and Aphrodite.” Hera started to plan. “Tonight, the three of you hide in the hallway outside our rooms. I will give you the signal once Zeus is asleep.”

“And how will we know for sure he’s asleep?”
“His snores are as loud as thunder, he will be asleep.” Hera promised. 

Hera trembled the entire time they bound the sleeping god. 

They had done it.

Zeus was bound.

Athena had hidden his lightning bolts away.

Apollo and Poseidon had tied the last knot in the chains when Zeus shifted in his sleep. 

Feeling unable to move, Zeus woke. 

Hera clenched her jaw as Zeus took in the sight of the gods before him and the chains binding him.

“What is this?” Zeus asked, thunder rumbled outside as his anger rose.

He began to struggle but upon finding himself unable to move, he roared and the thunder clashed. 

“TREASON!” He roared.

Hera was frozen in fear of Zeus’ rage even as she stood safely next to her brother and step children with Zeus bound in chains on the other side of the room. She winced at every foul name Zeus threw at her, at every insult.

“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Zeus shook with fury.

Poseidon stepped forward, taking all the attention off of Hera and making him the object of Zeus’ ire.

“Zeus, your actions and irrationality have made you unfit to rule. We are asking you to abdicate the throne so we can rule the cosmos as originally intended: a council of equals.” Poseidon stated. 

“Never. NEVER!” Zeus thrashed and shouted. “YOU JUST WANT TO BE KING YOURSELF!”

“I am already a King. I have no need for another.” Poseidon said.

“We’ll give his seat to Hestia.” Athena said. “Come, let’s convene the council.”

“You traitorous, conniving, little-”

“We’ll check on you in a few days to see if you come to your senses.” Hera said, her voice steady even though she felt like shaking. 

As they convened the council Hera began to feel like this could actually work.

The new council of Olympians could actually be functional.

The doors opened with a clash of thunder and the lightning was too bright to see. 

How could this have gone wrong?

How could he have escaped?

He took them all by surprise when the light died down enough to see Zeus had the Athenide in his arms, his Master Bolt cracked with power as it was held across her neck.

“I promised to be merciful and I shall.” Zeus growled. “Everyone but the traitors, leave.”

The gods were frozen in shock at the sight of Zeus threatening the beloved goddess.

“NOW!” Zeus thundered. 

Artemis started to leave but saw that her brother was not following.

“Artemis, go.” Apollo said lowly.

“Brother-”

“Go. Now.” Apollo barked at her but then calmed himself; his eyes never once leaving the goddess of loyalty’s. “I will be right behind you.”
Hera watched as Artemis, quick as a startled doe, fled from the throne room.

Poseidon fixed Zeus with a glare; the humidity thick in the room with the promise of destruction should anything happen to his daughter. 

“Father,” Athena started to step forward but paused when the Master Bolt was pressed against the underside of her daughter’s chin. “We were going to free you eventually. We just wanted you to promise to be a better ruler.”

Hera couldn’t read his expression; Athena was his favorite child, his prized daughter. If not even Athena could stay his anger…

“Of course, my little bird.” Zeus said to her. “But rebellions must be squashed. Rebels must be punished, don’t you agree?”

That brilliant, manipulative bastard.

Hera saw it. 

Apollo saw it. 

Poseidon saw it.

Athena, poor, unfortunate child of Metis would see it soon enough now she had incurred her father’s wrath.

“Of course, father.” Athena said tensely; never once taking her eyes off her daughter’s fearful ones.

“Drop your bow and your trident.” Zeus turned his attention to Apollo and Poseidon.

The two gods shared a look before dropping their symbols of power onto the marble floor.

“Kick them away.” Zeus ordered. 

The trident skidded across the stone until it clattered against a pillar. 

Apollo’s bow ricocheted off his sister’s throne.

“Now,” Zeus looked to Athena. “The chains that bound me, take them from my arm and bind the other three.” 

Athena cautiously stepped forward until she was next to Zeus and her daughter.
Hera pitied her.

A mother would wipe Athena’s tears away and comfort her as she was forced to bind her uncle, her brother, and her queen on the order of her father. 

A mother would promise their child that everything would be all right even if there was no guarantee.

Hera was not a good mother. Not to Athena. She had orchestrated this plot in hopes that it would make Zeus a better ruler. She had failed by leaving Zeus alone to get out of his chains. She had failed and now Athena’s daughter was now a hostage.

By the time Athena had finished chaining Hera, Athena’s hands were shaking and her grey eyes were sharp as steel as she glared at Zeus who still held the Athenide.

“I promised my rescuers that I would be merciful. I want you to know that what’s about to happen to you, is me,” Zeus said in a dangerous tone, “being merciful.”

///

Hera was seized with golden chains and dragged before the pit of Khaos; threats of severing the chains and dissolving into nothing were all Hera would hear every day Zeus came to visit her. He mocked her tears and her pain.

Apollo and Poseidon were stripped of their godhood and sent to Troy. 

King Laomedon set them to work; Apollo as a shepherd and Poseidon to build walls to protect the city. Neither could return until King Laomedon agreed their services were complete and sent them back.

“Athena, my child.” Zeus crooned as he stroked her cheek. 

“She’s my daughter, please!” Athena begged. 

“It’s like I told you before: rebels must be punished. Maybe now, you’ll understand what it’s like to have loyalty taken from you.” Zeus said coldly.

Athena was as still as her statues.

He took her.

He took her daughter away.

“When can I have my daughter back?” Athena asked softly, dreading the answer.

Zeus laughed like Athena said a funny joke.

“When you earn her.”

Chapter Text

Apollo and Poseidon were sent to the western city kingdom of Ilium to work as laborers for the King. The gods were disgruntled at the notion of servitude to a mortal but the king promised their freedom upon the completion of walls to protect the city. Even without their powers or divinity, both gods were far stronger than a regular mortal man.

Apollo watched over the sheep and wondered what had become of his beloved while Poseidon built the wall.

As much as he both admired and loathed Athena’s quick thinking and negotiating skills, he doubted his sister would have the emotional capability to negotiate Perseleia’s safety from their father’s anger; especially since his favorite daughter had been caught conspiring against him. 

It was near midday when the silver wolf appeared to break up the monotony. 

The other shepherds had drawn their weapons but Apollo ordered them to stand down; this wolf wasn’t after sheep. 

Artemis’ silver wolf made her way to Apollo’s feet and put all her weight into his legs. 

“Yes, hi, I missed you too.” Apollo scratched at the wolf’s ears. “You been protecting my sister?”

The wolf growled, insulted by the insinuation she’d been doing anything but.

“Good girl.” Apollo praised before pressing his thoughts into the wolf’s mind, what news does my sister have for me?

Lady Artemis just learned where the queen and Perseleia have been taken and imprisoned.

Where?  

Apollo didn’t give a damn about his stepmother, not when she sent titans and monsters to terrorize his mother. Not after she cursed his mother to have a tumultuous pregnancy. No, the queen of the gods has lost his sympathy.

What did matter was where Perseleia had been taken. She had no part in the rebellion, hadn’t even known about it as far as Apollo was aware. She was only used as a bargaining piece to get three out of the four rebels to stand down.

After they had been chained, Zeus had taken Perseleia and Hera away; Athena threatened not to release Poseidon or Apollo or she would never see her daughter again.

Apollo had never seen his sister, any sister, so distraught and scared. 

Poseidon looked downright murderous.

My sister’s sweet wolf, where is she?

The wolf sat on her hind legs.

The queen is chained before Chaos, the king visits her with threats to let her fall into the abyss and become nothing.

Apollo, while he did not like his stepmother… he didn’t want her to suffer to the extent of what Zeus was forcing her through.

Then Apollo had a horrible thought: if Zeus was doing that to Hera, his wife and queen, what had he done to Perseleia? After all, Zeus returned with no Hera or Perseleia to the throne room… 

Where is Perseleia, where is the friend to my sister and the love of my immortal life?

The wolf relaxed her front legs and rested her head on her paws; a whimper came from the wolf as she gave him her best upset eyes. 

I am sorry, Lord. but Perseleia was taken somewhere beyond gods until and this is what Athena had whispered to Lady Artemis: until the traitors understand the price for their betrayal, Loyalty is dead. As far as what Lady Artemis has found, she is not dead.

Just somewhere beyond gods…

Apollo knelt to rub the wolf’s ears and stroke her fur. “Good girl. Are you going to help me herd the sheep?”

The mortal shepherds watched in apprehension as the wolf acted mild, as if a simple hound, under Apollo’s hand.

The wolf panted and rolled over, demanding belly rubs. 

Apollo laughed as he obliged the wolf; it was payment for the information given.

That night, as Apollo met with Poseidon, he relayed the information.

“I swear, if Zeus put my daughter in the Underworld or Tartarus…” Poseidon snarled but unlike the other times when he was angry, the seas did not thrash nor did the earth shake; signs his divinity was no longer within reach.

“Artemis said she was still looking for her but Hera for sure is being threatened with obliteration on a daily basis.” Apollo said lowly. 

“As much as she aggravates me…” Poseidon shook his head.

Apollo could relate; some of his sisters were downright insufferable and pretended not to be related to him but if their husbands or any god dared to treat them the way Zeus treated Hera or his previous queens…

“Athena?” Poseidon asked. 

“Her punishment is that Perseleia was taken from her. Athena has to “earn her” before father thinks about releasing her.” Apollo said. 

“My poor Queen,” Poseidon sighed and his shoulders drooped. “She hasn’t had a child in our depths to spoil with affection since Pallas; Amphitrite is quite protective over our youngest.”

Apollo tossed some dried meat to the wolf at his feet. 

He had been so focused on winning over Perseleia, of showing her that her affections would not be wasted upon him that he forgot all about his Aunt Amphitrite; she was as fierce of an opponent and far more ruthless than Athena.

“Amphitrite must be furious.” 

“Amphitrite had no knowledge of our rebellion. I hid it from her so she and our children would be protected.” Poseidon set down his plate and let the wolf have it. “It was foolish to attempt the coups while Perseleia was out of the safety of the sea; at least during the winter, my sweet riptide would have had plausible deniability.”

“But she does have plausible deniability.” Apollo argued. 

“Does she?” Poseidon gave him a look. “Think about it.”

Apollo frowned but then it hit him: Perseleia coming out of the temple of Hera and Hera immediately suggesting a coup, rebellion to instill a democratic council, it did look suspicious but Hera never confessed what was spoken between the two. 

If Apollo had to wager on a guess, based on Hera’s tone of voice and the red in her eyes, she had found out about Zeus’ latest affair to Alcmene, Queen of Troezen and wife to King Amphitryon, and had went to her temple to rage or weep. Perseleia and Hera had never gotten on well since Hera tried to force her into marriage to avoid another Aphrodite situation and Perseleia had called out most of the pantheon for being such rakes but Apollo could see that if there was any goddess who would comfort the Queen after such an insult, it would only be Perseleia; Hebe and Eileithyia were far too used to their father’s behavior to comfort their mother, Angelos had angered her mother and fled to the Underworld to seek asylum with Hades and Persephone, Eleutheria was too much of Zeus’ daughter to dare go against him and lose his favor, the Graces had long left their mother’s side to seek less… instability and unpredictability with Aphrodite. 

Hera’s temper and wrath had isolated her from the very people who understood her best.

Apollo would have pitied her had she not terrorized his mother and cursed her for having the unfortunate fate of attracting the wandering attention of Zeus.

Kronos didn’t question why his youngest son had forgiven him for his actions and let him out of the Pit, but he must have heard about the curse Ouranos had placed upon him, he must have asked around and discovered that while Kronos hadn’t wanted to eat his children, his father had cursed him with madness that made him do so. 

Kronos was thankful for being given the Isle of the Blessed to govern. 

He was thankful for the chance to… not be a father to Hades, gods know he lost that right when he swallowed his son moments after his birth, but to at least get to know his son without the threat of being consumed by madness. 

The souls were peaceful and required little attention, for which he was also thankful for.

The island was quiet, not silent mind you, but quiet.

Which was why Kronos was puzzled by the crying.

Crying and wailing and screaming were common in the Underworld, but this was different.

This was from someone living.

Hades must not have heard it as his palace was on the other side of Elysium so Kronos left the isle and went off to search for the source of the crying.

What he found made what little remained of his heart break; Rhea, his sweet Rhea, and his’ daughter Hera was dangling over the pit of Chaos. Gold chains dug purple bruises into her skin. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her body trembled from fear and cold.

“Hera, what happened to you?” Kronos asked softly. 

Hera jerked, what little she could, away from his voice.

“Go away! Leave me alone!” She struggled against her bonds and snarled.

“Did Zeus do this?” Kronos asked, kneeling at the edge of nothingness.

“He did what was his right; I tried to overthrow him, this is my punishment.” Hera snarled at him; reminiscent of a trapped animal.

Kronos looked down at his daughter in pity. 

In all his years of marriage, despite the betrayal, not once did Kronos ever once think of hurting Rhea. Not once did he ever dream of punishing her.

“Even in my madness, even though your mother orchestrated my downfall, never once did I think of doing this to her.” Kronos said softly, getting to his feet and started to walk away; giving Hera what she requested. 

He was a few strides away when he heard her small voice call out.

“Wait!” 

Kronos paused and turned. 

“Could you please stay? I don’t want to be alone.” Hera asked through her tears.

“I would love to.” Kronos returned to the edge of nothing and sat down. 

He couldn't free his daughter, he didn’t have the strength to do so, but he could tell her about how wild and free and kind her mother was. 

So he did.

///

Hades looked around at the council for the Winter Solstice; the empty thrones of Hera, Apollo, and Poseidon practically drew everyone’s attention.

Athena was practically a statue upon her own throne; grey eyes usually sharp and cunning, were dull and lifeless, usually his niece was uptight and held her head high but that was not what Hades saw; Athena dared not move. 

Hades had heard of the rebellion from the ghosts but he hadn’t gotten the full story until his Queen returned to the Underworld with tears in her eyes, clinging to him as she failed to get through her account without crying and shaking in fear.

As far as Hades was aware, this attempted coup his siblings, nephew, and niece attempted had so far worked in their attempt to get Zeus to become a better king; at least, Zeus was allowing the other members of the council to have a say instead of making all of the decisions himself.

But the greatest question Hades had was where Perseleia was being kept.

“-unless there are any more concerns…” Zeus looked around at the incomplete council.

“I have one;” Hades shifted so he turned to his younger brother. “Where is my loyal niece? From what I have been told of the rebellion from my Queen, Perseleia has been missing ever since despite not participating.”

Athena’s eyes flashed with fear before covering her emotions and shifted her eyes towards Zeus.

“While she had not participated in the rebellion, Athena and Poseidon did, thus they have lost the right to loyalty. Perseleia Athenide will be returned as soon as they understand the price they have paid for their betrayal.” Zeus frowned. 

“Father,” Athena pleaded.

“If I hear one more word out of you, I will leave her down there longer.” Zeus threatened his daughter.

Athena flinched and her knuckles went white as she grasped her throne.

Hades narrowed his eyes at the phrasing.

As far as he could tell, his niece wasn’t in the Underworld so why would… no. He wouldn’t dare!

“Tartarus, Zeus? You would really throw an innocent goddess who had no idea of her parent’s plans into Tartarus?” Hades said coolly.

Athena’s eyes went wide with horror and begged for it not to be true.

“Zeus…” Demeter warned.

Dionysus’ violet eyes were dark and grapevines were growing up his throne.

Artemis’ face was pure horror.

Hermes tilted his head and studied his father; his movements akin to his two serpents.

Ares and Aphrodite and Hephaestus all stood to their feet with each of their own protestations.

“Enough!” Zeus thundered.

“NO!” Demeter yelled back. “You get her out of there now or Morai help us, you’ll have another coup on your hands and this time, you won’t have a nymph to let you out.” 

Demeter was a fierce opponent and ally when she wasn’t directing her anger towards Hades.

“Well, I can’t let her go back to Athena or the ocean; both need to be punished.” Zeus argued. 

“The Underworld.” Hades said, above the other’s protestations. 

“No!”

“Absolutely not!”

“You just want another-”

“QUIET!” Hades shouted. “Perseleia is a Psychopomp! She’ll be put to work. She’ll tend to Persephone. She’ll be under the protection of Xenia and I will make sure she doesn’t step one foot out of line.”

Hades and Zeus held the other’s gazes, neither one daring to break first.

It was Hestia who spoke, breaking the tension.

“It would be more beneficial to have Perseleia under the watch and guardianship of Hades until Athena and Poseidon’s punishments are over rather than having her trapped in Tartarus. It wouldn’t be wise after all, to have Loyalty angry and bitter towards you.” Hestia said, disapproving of her brother’s actions.

Hades felt a thought brush against his mind, as soft as an owl feather. 

Would she be safe with you? 

She would.

You wouldn’t harm her?

Persephone adores her. Styx is fond of her. Perseleia treats every god in my kingdom with respect and takes her time to speak with them when she guides the souls into my realm, she comforts the scared souls while they wait for judgement.

You will not trick her into staying?

Never. I love my Queen and want no other. She can rest and heal from her time in the Pit with me and Persephone to care for her.

Zeus caved under Hestia’s disappointment.

“Fine. Perseleia will be moved to the Underworld. We’ll go down and retrieve her after the council is concluded for the evening.” 

Hades felt a wave of relief wash over him but he did not show it.

Athena looked less pale as she sent him a look of surprised gratitude.

He gave his niece a subtle nod in acknowledgement though he wasn’t doing this for her.

///

Percy was exhausted.

She was scared. 

The two chains that shackled her wrists did not allow her to stand upright so she was forced in an uncomfortable kneeling position as shards of broken glass dug into her knees. 

The monsters, once keeping their distance, now dared each other to go near, to scratch and bite and tear at her.

She wanted to sleep, her eyes were burning from exhaustion, but she had to stay awake.

If she could just escape her chains, if she could just get to the River Phlegethon, then Percy could possibly follow it to an exit; all rivers flowed through the Underworld, she could just follow it out.

Then the monsters grew skittish.

The cowardly ones fled first.

The remaining were devoured by the shadows and dissolved into dust.

Then the shadows came near. 

In the red haze of Tartarus, in her delirium, Percy could almost imagine the shadows breaking her chains.

The tension keeping her in her kneeling position snapped as her chains shattered. 

Percy fell forward but was caught by the shadows. 

“I got you, you’re going to be safe soon.” The shadows promised as they wrapped around her like Nico’s shadows sometimes did. 

“‘m tired.” Percy slurred. 

“Sleep. I got you.” The shadows said.

And cradled by the darkness, Percy finally slept.

Chapter Text

Poseidon and Apollo went to the King of Troy after the walls of Troy was complete. They petitioned the King for their reward only for the King to turn them away with nothing but that their trials were over and to return to Olympus. In their wrath, Apollo rained his plague arrows down upon Troy while Poseidon set tides and a sea monster against the city.

Persephone paced the halls of her palace as she waited for Hades to return. 

The ghosts that attended her chattered at their Lady’s restlessness. 

Cerberus, now relieved of his duties for the day, rested his heads upon his paws and kept his faithful watch over Persephone.

The hurried footsteps alerted her of her husband’s return.

Persephone ran down corridors, Cerberus trotting along behind her, until she found Hades; tall and imposing, his Helm upon his head, the shadows curling and morphing under his command, and in his arms, was Perseleia.

“Oh gods!” Persephone brought her hands to her mouth as she saw the state of her friend.

“Zeus is a fool!” Hades snarled. 

“What happened to her?” Persephone led Hades to the room she had set up for her friend the moment Hades left to retrieve her.

“She was chained. Monsters surrounded her like vultures and she already a carcass.” Hades laid her on the bed. “The stress of it all must have been too much for her.” 

Persephone stroked her friend’s cheek lightly, as if she were afraid of breaking her more than she already was, before running her fingers through the white streaks in her hair. 

Cerberus whined and sniffed Perseleia’s unconscious form before whimpering.

She shook in rage as she turned to her husband.

“I will take care of her.” Persephone vowed. 

“Of course. She’s under our protection now.” Hades agreed. “Shall you need any assistance? Styx is fond of her.” 

“Daeira and Orphne and Gorgyra to begin with. Once I’m back with my mother, I’ll request that Hecate and Styx take charge of her.” Persephone said, still shaking with anger.

“Of course.” Hades placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

“I can’t be in court,” Persephone said.

“I don’t expect you to be, she’s your friend.” Hades kissed her forehead. “None would condemn you for your absence.”

“Thank you, my love.” Persephone knelt next to her friend and kissed her cold forehead.

Persephone washed the dirt and blood off her friend with waters provided by Styx from her river. 

“So many scars for one so young.” Styx seethed as she washed the grime off of one of Perseleia’s hands. “It is good that she is a goddess; a pit scorpion would have killed even a nymph.” 

“Gods…” Persephone cursed as she washed the other hand.

Orphne gasped as she finally got the ripped and ruined peplos off the unconscious goddess. 

“Is that-” Daeira asked horrified.

“Spear puncture wounds. And arrows.” Gorgyra pursed her lips. 

“Athena never did anything such as this. Even the simplest cut was treated with a pitcher of nectar and ambrosia.” Persephone defended her sister. “She’s worse than my mother when it comes to protectiveness.”

“My poor girl.” Styx kissed the scar on Perseleia’s hand in the same way a mother would kiss the wound of her child.

“We must finish. I refuse to allow her to remain soiled from the Pit any longer.” Persephone dipped another cloth in the wash basin and continued cleaning her friend’s body.

“It’s odd,” Daeira said. “Cleaning a living person rather than a dead body for once.” 

“She can borrow some of my dresses until some can be made for her.” Persephone said.

“I shall weave some fresh cloth immediately.” The Queen’s attendant said. 

“I shall loan her some cloaks. I know she chills easily.” Styx said, rare fondness gracing her features.

When Perseleia was cleaned, Persephone and Styx dressed Perseleia in one of Persephone’s black peplos. 

Styx took off her deep blue cloak and draped it over the goddess of loyalty who kept her oaths.

“I want someone to attend to her. You all have your duties, I know but-” Persephone was interrupted by Styx clasping her bicep.

“I will stay with her.” Styx promised. 

“As will I.” Gorgyra said.

“And I.” Orphne said.

“We’ll all take turns. She will not be alone.” 

///

Percy woke to someone brushing her hair singing a lullaby. 

Her eyes fluttered open and she saw a beautiful woman with black hair flowing down her hair like a current, her eyes were pure black, her face must usually show hatred but when this goddess looked upon Percy, she only found fondness in her eyes.

“Styx?”

“Hello, Φως μου,” Styx started braiding Percy’s hair. “You are safe in the House of Hades. The King and Queen have been tasked with overseeing your punishment for your alleged crime of insurrection, officially.”

“And unofficially?” Percy felt like another pit scorpion had been using her mouth for a nest again.

“You are here to rest and recover. Entering the Pit takes a toll on the strongest of the gods, for you,” Styx shook her head. “Zeus was a fool to even throw you in.” 

“At least someone thinks so.” Percy said weakly, closing her eyes.

She missed the look of concern Styx gave her. 

“Since we have a moment alone, would you care to explain why you have traces of my blessing upon you and why it was removed?” Styx asked. 

Percy flinched; though she might not have intended it, Styx reminded her of ever teacher who had already cast judgement upon her.

And gods, how was she going to explain it?

“It is so weird, I don’t know how to explain it myself.” Percy said.

“You speak the truth.” Styx said, skeptical even as she heard the truth of the words.

“I don’t know how to explain without sounding insane, but I swear to you upon your waters, your blessing was not willingly taken from me.” Percy promised. 

Styx felt a chill ripple through her currents as the vow was made; her blessing was ripped from this goddess’ skin, her protection was taken! This would not stand.

“But I did give you my blessing. I have no memories of you entering my waters.” Styx said. 

“Not yet.” Percy said, cryptically. 

Styx finished the braid and tied it off before helping Percy sit up.

“Not yet.” The words held truth.

“I have…” how to explain it and not outright lie? “Memories of future events. Memories that I lived even though I live here and now.” 

Styx’s face scrunched in confusion. “That is an interesting way to speak of your visions.” 

“It’s one way to say it. I have these memories. I have bathed in your waters. I remember it. It’s like my body remembers, even though I have not yet bathed in your sacred waters.” 

Please let Back to the Future not be bullshit like Marvel says it is!

“Hmm.” Styx pondered this. “I suppose that makes sense. I’ll not trouble you too much about it.” 

Holy shit that worked!

“If you are up for it, the court would be pleased to know you have awakened. Persephone has not left your side for a week but I urged her to take a break.” Styx helped Percy shift to the edge of the bed and get to her feet. 

“I would like to see her.” Percy said.

“Hades is too proud to admit it, but he was worried for you. I have not seen him so furious since that son of Zeus tricked the Olympians into eating a child.” Styx said, leaving Percy’s side to hold up a couple of dresses. “Persephone and her attendants wove you some garments. Which color would you like?”

They were beautiful and varying shades of dark blue. 

“I’ll take that one.” Percy picked out one reminiscent of Amphitrite’s tail and her whale sharks.

“I’ll help you-oh don’t be embarrassed! I bathed your naked body when you were brought here and I birthed four children.” Styx said with exasperation.

“I wasn’t… when I was brought here-” Percy’s cheeks burned. 

“No. Hades carried you here, then he left. Persephone, myself and three other nymphs bathed and dressed you as you slept. Always one of us was with you.” Styx promised. 

Percy let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you.” 

“You are mine. Not yet, but my blessing will be yours and when it is taken away, I shall find you or you me and it shall be restored.” Styx promised. 

Percy could only nod in agreement as she stripped naked and allowed Styx to help her get dressed in the dark blue peplos.

“I know how you get chilled down here when you bring souls, so I brought some of my cloaks.” Styx fixed the pins and brooches in place. “They are yours now.” 

“Thank you, Styx.” 

“Of course, Θησαυρέ μου.” Styx wrapped Percy up in a light grey cloak.

///

Persephone wore a bright green peplos with a crown of vibrant and warm colored flowers in her hair. 

“You’ll be alright while I’m gone?” Persephone asked, cupping her friend’s cheeks.

“I’ll be fine.” Percy gave her a weary smile. 

“You’ll give Cerbie cuddles for me?”

“You know I will.” 

“You’ll take it easy for me? You won’t overwork yourself?”

“I won’t.” 

“You’ll make sure Hades and Cerbie go on their daily walks?”

“Persephone!” Hades’ pale cheeks finally found some color.

“I will annoy him into a walk around the Underworld.” Percy laughed. 

“Good. And you’ll make sure-” 

“Persephone, my sunshine, I do not need a keeper!” Hades protested, crossing his arms.

“My light and my darkness, I just worry about you. I know spring is so difficult for you.” Persephone placed her hands on his shoulders and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Hades’ cheeks darkened more.

“You know, I think throwing a ball for Cerberus would do you some good, Uncle Hades.” Percy snickered.

“And why would I do that?” Hades asked. 

“He likes red rubber balls.” Percy said, remembering her first quest into the Underworld; Annabeth and Percy needed to bully Nico into sneaking them back into the Underworld to play with Cerberus once Gaia was defeated…

Percy’s grin fell as she remembered Annabeth and Nico. 

Where were they?

How much time had passed since she had woken up in Greece?

Was there even a way to return?

Could she even return?

“I shall give your love and news of your recovery to your mothers.” Persephone pulled her into a hug. “Any news for Artemis?”

“Just that I miss her and can’t wait for this to be over.” Percy said, exhaustion weighing her down.

“And,” Persephone brushed some of the white strands out of Percy’s face. “Do you want me to tell your mothers about this or do you want to tell them yourself?”

Gods, Percy did not want to tell anyone about this, let alone her Amphitrite or Athena, but she felt almost normal now that she had her old scars back. In a twisted sort of way, it felt like her body was actually her body again.

“I’ll tell them myself.” Percy said.

“They might know a way to-”

“No, I like it. I’ll show my scars. I’m not ashamed of them.” Percy said.

“All right, love.” Persephone smiled at her and gave Hades one last kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you both in the fall!”

Hades’ shoulders shook as he held his sobs in as Persephone left their kingdom, wild flowers growing in her retreating footsteps; asphodel and belladonna slowly changing to bluebells and lilies and violets the closer to the living she got.
“Is there any hope that Persephone stays?” Hades asked, mournfully looking at the flowers that were all that remained of his wife.

“I’m sorry. Spring must come but then again, autumn must come also.” Percy said.

Hades nodded.

“I suppose it is too much to hope for.”

“I’m sorry.” Percy said, “I should find Styx, earn my keep.” 

“Why don’t you go to Elysium or the Isles of the Blessed? You are still recovering from the Pit and do not need extra stress.” Hades said. “You are my guest and my wife’s dear friend; you do not need to earn your keep.” 

“It’s not that it’s… I don’t like being idle. I feel like I should at least do something to justify staying here as long as my parents are being punished for the rebellion.” 

“Look at me: you do not have to prove yourself or earn your keep or justify your right to seek asylum. You are my guest. You are part of the Underworld. You have nothing to prove to me.” Hades said. 

“Thank you.” 

“If you are really restless, I could give you some duties.”

“Yes please. If I have to sit and recover more, I’ll go insane.” Percy said. 

“Go to Elysium and recover.” Hades said.

“You are a cruel god, uncle.” Percy said.

“So I’ve been told. I’ll send Angelos to save you from boredom. She is due for a break from her duties.” Hades promised. 

Kronos was familiar with the deities of the Underworld even if he hadn’t laid eyes upon them. Archeron stayed away from the Isles of the Blessed, the Furies preferred to stay by Hades’ side or torment souls in the Fields of Punishment, Angelos however, she was the one he knew best as she preferred to care for the souls good enough for Elysium.

The goddess by her side, Kronos had not met but he had heard of her: Perseleia Athenide, guide of souls from the sea, the pearl of her parents, the goddess of loyalty. He had heard of her from the souls, of her kindness, of how she was like a mother to them from the occasional demigod.

To Kronos, she looked like Rhea.

In her sea green eyes, he saw Rhea.

In her care for the souls, he saw Rhea.

In her kindness, he saw Rhea.

The only difference was that she was a goddess and where Rhea had greying hair the last time he had seen her, Perseleia had white streaks he had only seen once Atlas chose to take the burden of protecting their mother from Ouranos.

“You seem unsettled.” Kronos approached his granddaughter. 

“We’ve met, but not yet.” Her green eyes studied him the way an animal studied the hunter. “I suppose that sounds strange.”

“Not at all. I meet, have met, will meet people all the time, at different times.” Kronos said.

“Are you sane?”

“No. Cycles must occur like the seasons. It’s how the crops grow and are harvested. I am sane for now but eventually, my madness will consume me. I have seen it. I will see it. I see it now.” Kronos said, time flowed around him as he sat down next her her on the edge of the lake.

“We will fight.” She said. 

“We will. And when you defeat me, the madness will soften once more until the next cycle.” Kronos said.

“Archetypes.” Perseleia said.

“Indeed.” 

“You know, you’re kind of interesting when you’re not eating my father or trying to kill me.” Perseleia said.

“And I apologize for when I will try to kill you.”

Kronos and his granddaughter sat by the lake in silence

///

“King Laomedon, we have finished our tasks.” Poseidon’s voice still carried the weight it did as when he was a god.

“What tasks?” King Laomedon looked up from his court.

Poseidon and Apollo both glared at the king. 

“With our tasks. I the walls of your great city and Apollo with tending to your herds.” Poseidon said through clenched teeth. 

“Ah, right. They are strong then?” King Laomedon asked. 

“They are greatly fortified.” Poseidon said, with bare politeness. 

“Excellent. You may go.” He waved them off. 

Apollo blinked. 

Surely that couldn’t be what the King meant?

“But the reward that was promised,” Poseidon slowly began to shift his expression from puzzlement to anger.

“This is your reward. The freedom of yourself and your nephew; I shall make a sacrifice to Zeus to assure him you both fulfilled your end of the oath.” The king sneered. 

“I made your city the strongest, the most protected; your walls would keep out any army of this earth! You promised compensation!” Poseidon roared. 

“Are they still here?” King Laomedon turned to his cup bearer.

Poseidon grabbed Apollo’s arm and pulled him out of the throne room. 

“What are you doing? Are you going to stand for this?” Apollo objected.

“No. Are you?” Poseidon challenged.

Apollo raised an eyebrow and then nodded. 

They would become gods again, they would check upon Perseleia’s well being, then they would enact their vengeance upon Troy

///

Athena and Poseidon stood anxiously by the gates of Olympus, waiting for Persephone to arrive.

Poseidon and Apollo had been given their divinity back and as soon as they recovered, Apollo ran to his sister and his mother for their reunion, content to give Poseidon his reunion with his daughter before he went to check on her health as well whilst Poseidon went to Athena in hopes that his daughter was there. 

Athena had told him of her being imprisoned in Tartarus and then her being taken to the Underworld.

The rage nearly sent Poseidon back into the throne room to rip his brother limb from limb for what he had done but his daughter took priority.

Persephone, despite Demeter’s protestations, had offered to return to the Underworld and bring Perseleia back once Zeus officially allowed her return.

There, in the setting sun, two goddesses arrived; one, draped in greenery with flowers in her brown hair while the other, with stark, white streaks against her black curls.

“Owlet?” Athena’s voice shook.

“Hi.” Perseleia said, exhausted.

Athena pulled her daughter in her arms; squeezing Perseleia in her embrace as if someone was going to rip her from her arms. 

“Oh, my sweet riptide, what happened to you?” Poseidon ran a shaky hand through his daughter’s whitecap hair.

Chapter Text

The god Apollo became enamored by the Thessalian Princess Coronis and soon she fell pregnant. While pregnant with their son, Asclepius, Coronis fell in love with Ischys and slept with him. Angered for her twin, Artemis killed the Coronis. To save the child, Apollo cut the baby Asclepius out of her womb.

Apollo was furious on her behalf. 

How dare his father harm Loyalty so. How dare his father spit and mock the very essence of the beautiful goddess. How dare the King imprisoned her and leave the goddess marred. 

Apollo could never voice his dissent aloud lest he bring his father’s wrath back upon him but so long as Perseleia remained safe, he’d hold his tongue.

Apollo readied his bow and he drew an arrow infected with plague.

He aimed for Troy.

He fired.

“Do you mind if I watch?” A voice, as calming as waves upon the shore, as gentle as the ocean breeze, warmer than rays from his sun asked. 

Apollo felt all the frustration leave his body as he felt Perseleia’s words wash over him.

“I would be offended if you didn’t.” Apollo teased her.

His stomach flipped as he got a snort out of her. 

Children got her laughter, Athena her knowing grins, the sea creatures her songs for the deep, but never a snort; it made him feel special that he was the only one to get such a reaction from the unreachable goddess.

“Would you like a shot?” Apollo held out his bow to her. 

“I’d rather observe.” Perseleia sat down and dangled her legs over the edge of the mountain.

“Very well; I shall give you the best show.” Apollo pulled out another arrow, docked it, drew back, and loosed it. “Plague of mice.” 

“That won’t hurt the cats, right?” Perseleia asked. 

“No, the mice will eat the stores and infect the humans. And if any cat is harmed, I shall spirit the felines away and give them to you.” Apollo promised. 

“Thank you.” She said, though she was physically beside him, she felt so far away from him.

Her eyes were worn, haunted. 

Her frame was light and decorated with scars she wore proudly.

Her hair, once pitch black like the depths of the sea now had streaks of white like the whitecaps of waves. She looked so striking, so bold, so fierce with her scars and her hair and yet with her imperfections, she looked more like the demigods she raised. 

When Apollo first saw her again, he had to do a double take to make sure it was really her and not some clouds molded to impersonate her. 

He watched in horrified relief as she hugged Artemis tightly; nodding along to his sister’s questioning when Artemis pulled back and searched her face, her body, her hair for any other sign of abuse.

When Artemis finally let her go, Perseleia did something Apollo did not expect; she hugged him and buried her face in his chest.

She was tiny against him-granted, he preferred to be a couple of heads taller than the average mortal while Perseleia stayed the height of a mortal for the demigods’ comfort-but by the gods above and below, she fit perfectly in his arms. She was so soft and strong all at the same time. 

Apollo held her as she didn’t let go.

“Don’t you ever, ever, do something like that again!” Perseleia mumbled in his chiton.

Apollo sent his sister a look of bewilderment, to which she sent him a look of exasperation back, because Perseleia worried about him! 

She was hugging him!

She was coming to him for comfort!

“You were worried about me?” he teased lightly, though he was touched she cared enough about him.

“Of course I do, you’re my friend. You were turned mortal. You and father could have died so easily and it would have hurt so much!” Perseleia had said. “I love you and I care about you so don’t do that again.”

His heart, however immortal it may be, had stopped at the three words he so longed to hear and now finally heard. 

She had said “I love you” to him. 

Unprompted.

“I-” he was about to say “I love you” back when she interrupted.

“You idiot. I already gave this speech to my father and now it’s given to you: don’t you ever do that to Artemis or your mother again.” Perseleia removed herself from his embrace and Apollo had to fight himself to let her go; he wanted to hold her forever, he wanted to keep the moment frozen in time so she would always stay in his arms.

“Your children were worried about their father. You should go see them.” She said before turning her back on him and leaving with his sister; once again taking his heart with her.

Apollo had written songs and rhymes about how it felt to be in her arms that night.

Songs of how he loved her back were written but unsung.

Songs and poems and epics of their love would be spoken of one day but until then, Apollo would wait. 

“Are you with me?” Apollo sat down next to her and nudged her shoulder with his. 

“Hmm. I missed this.” She said quietly.

She missed him? Being with him?

“This?” He asked. 

“Sunsets. It was a bloody haze in the Pit, always darkness and shadows. The Underworld, while there was fire for light, it wasn’t the sun.” Perseleia said softly; in her time since returning, she had never brought up the Pit unprompted and it was only to speak of how her chains were broken and the one monster that attacked her.

“You like sunsets?” Apollo smiled. 

“And sunrises, though I don’t like getting up early. I love how you paint the sky. I missed that.” Perseleia said, nudging him softly in the ribs. 

Apollo’s heart did a little pittypat.

He wanted to tell her of his feelings. He wanted to shout it from the mountain tops that he loved her and wanted to marry her; not just because she was an exceptional and beautiful goddess, but because she was clever. Because she was fierce. Because she was resilient. Because as sweet as she was, she was damn deadly with a blade. Because she loved everyone and she was kind and she was good. So good.

“Perseleia, I…” Apollo couldn’t find the words to say.

“How about a plague that gives Troy the shits.” Perseleia suggested. 

Apollo had to lean back and look at her to make sure he heard her right.

She simply raised her eyebrow and shrugged. 

“Did… you want me…” Apollo was baffled. “Is this what you and Persephone are like when you’re coming up with punishments?”

While she smiled as she laughed, Apollo felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. 

This woman was brilliant and spiteful. 

This was also her first real laugh since Tartarus.

Gods, he loved her.

“Does this mean I can be around for those future conversations?” Apollo asked. 

“No.” Perseleia smiled as she looked down towards Troy.

“It was worth a try.” He said as he lazily strung an arrow and shot it towards the city. “Excessive, bloody, and watery shits, just for you.”

“I love dysentery.” She said with a morbid grin. “And the Bubonic plague but that won’t happen for a while. Definitely, those two would have to be my favorite plagues.”

Was she getting her visions?

Apollo focused on her; while her eyes were far away, they didn’t glow like his Delphic Oracle but that wasn’t the only sign of seeing the future because his Sybils didn’t glow when their sight brought them signs.

Then she turned to him. 

“When it happens, promise me you’ll protect the cats?” She asked him with such earnest concern he could only agree. 

“So you like my plagues?” Apollo raised an eyebrow at her and gave her a sunny grin.

Perseleia scoffed and lightly shoved him away.

“Caw! Caw!” 

Apollo and Perseleia turned to where a pure white raven was flying towards them.

The raven was Apollo’s favorite and most trusted of his animals, so naturally, it was the raven with whom Apollo trusted to watch over Coronis and protect her now that she was pregnant.

Apollo was frustrated and the princess looked so like Perseleia in the night… by morning when he saw brown hair and hazel eyes and his mind cleared, she was pregnant. Coronis was, of course, thrilled she had attracted the god’s attention and seemed determined to keep it; even going so far as to dye her hair with walnuts to blacken her hair, not knowing his attention was already lost to her.

Apollo promised her protection as she carried his child but he could not give Coronis what she wanted: his heart.

“Corvus what’s wrong?” Apollo asked, holding his hand out for the bird.

Corvus landed on his lord’s hand and croaked, his words echoing in Apollo’s mind.

I’m sorry my lord, I bring terrible news: Princess Coronis, while pregnant with your child, has betrayed you and sleeps with another!

Apollo clenched his jaw and cast his fiery gaze upon Troy.

“Apollo, what’s wrong?” Perseleia asked. 

“Thank you for telling me.” He said through clenched teeth.

“Apollo?”

Why was he furious? It wasn’t like he was emotionally connected to the woman, it was just sex. Sex that happened when he was vulnerable and angry and worried about a goddess who only wanted friendship from him and that just happened to produce a baby.

For gods’ sake!

He didn’t even love Coronis!

So why was he so pissed?

His thoughts went to the baby; how could she have done this while pregnant with his child? Did she even think of the child’s safety? If she was so reckless with their child’s safety now, how reckless would Coronis be once the child was born?

“Coronis laid with another man.” He said.

Corvus flapped his wings and tilted his head in apology.

“Oh Apollo,” Perseleia raised her hand as if to pat his shoulder but then put it in her lap instead. “I’m sorry. That sucks.” 

“How could she do that?” Apollo with incredulity.

This time, Perseleia patted him on his shoulder.

“She’s pregnant with our child and she lays with another man!” Apollo could not comprehend the situation.

“She’s an idiot then, if she does something this stupid to a terrific guy like you.” Perseleia comforted him.

He couldn't even be elated that Perseleia thought he was terrific because he was so mad at Coronis.

“What did she do?!” Artemis asked.

Apollo turned and saw his sister, her face pinched in outrage.

“Coronis is pregnant with my child yet she sleeps with another man.” Apollo said, scoffing.

Artemis’ eyes narrowed before stringing her bow with two arrows and aimed towards Thessaly; towards Coronis.

“Artemis, wait!” Perseleia cried, leaving Apollo’s side but it was too late. 

The arrows were loose.

Apollo could feel it the moment Artemis’ starlight arrow struck Coronis in the heart.

“The baby!” Perseleia turned to Apollo; her face pale.

Apollo grabbed Perseleia’s hand and they appeared in Thessaly, in Coronis’ chambers. 

Coronis laid on the bed next to her dead lover; her last gasps begging for forgiveness. 

“It’s too soon! The baby can’t be born, it’s barely been a month!” Apollo ignored Coronis’ pleas for forgiveness as he laid a hand on her abdomen.

Perseleia glared at the woman, who with tears in her eyes pleaded for mercy for the baby.

“I’ll carry the baby.” Perseleia said.

Apollo turned in shock.

“I will carry the baby for you, Apollo.” Perseleia’s eyes darkened as she held Coronis’ dying gaze. 

“Perse-”

“She’s dying and you’re running out of time. Are you going to put a baby in me or not, sunshine?” Perseleia sassed him.

Apollo’s brain immediately short circuited at her words and he blinked in surprise.

Apollo wasn’t going to give her time to reconsider as he cut the baby out of Coronis and used his power to place it inside Perseleia’s womb. By the time the baby was placed, Coronis was dead.

“Are you all right?” Apollo asked.

“This feels… weird.” Perseleia said eventually.

Apollo could hardly believe this was actually happening.

Perseleia was pregnant.

With his child.

This was certainly not how he wanted this to happen but… it was certainly them: unusual.

They stood there; surrounded by the dead mortals and with Perseleia pregnant with his child.

She looked positively stunning under the light of the stars and his sister’s moon.

Her hair shines like starlight and her eyes… oh her eyes.

“It’s late.” Perseleia said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” Apollo agreed. 

“I should return to,”

“Your mother, yes.”

“She worries.”

“You are quite the hurricane.”

“Hmm.”

They stood there some more; Apollo hoped desperately that she also didn’t want this moment to end.

“We should go.” Perseleia whispered.

Apollo couldn’t say he wanted nothing more than to keep looking in her eyes, to describe all the ways Perseleia looked in the starlight, but she was right. They had to leave or Athena would have his head.

And the bodies would start to smell worse.

Apollo took her hand and they were once more on Mount Olympus.

Athena hadn’t wanted to let her daughter out of her sight now that she had gotten her back but she saw how Perseleia was wasting away being cooped up in the aerie so she allowed her daughter her freedom. 

Perseleia was an intelligent young goddess.

She would be with Artemis or Persephone. 

She wouldn’t leave Olympus.

Perseleia would be safe and she would return once Artemis took her chariot into the night sky.

Her responsible daughter was that: responsible.

“My daughter is smart and wise and clever, she won’t do anything reckless or stupid.” Athena nodded as she continued weaving. 

Still, Athena had sent her beloved owls to watch over her. Once Perseleia started going off with Persephone and Artemis just after she was born, Athena had fretted over her daughter being out of sight and not by her side for the first time and so asked her beloved birds to watch over her daughter. 

Her owls faithfully watched her daughter and reported back to her; she had worried about Apollo after Athena made him swear not to pursue her daughter but her owls have reported that he has done nothing untoward to her dear little owlet. He had been respectful of her boundaries, accepting that Perseleia only wants friendship, and giving her space when she has asked for it.

Athena had to admit: she was worried about her brother for a moment.

She wasn’t going to change her mind about not wanting him to marry her daughter, but then again, no one was good enough for her sweet child.

Athena broke out of her thoughts when she heard the clicks of talons on her temple floors. 

She turned to see a small owl with white and grey speckled plumage racing towards her, her wings outstretched and her eyes wide. 

“Athene, my noctua, whatever is the matter?” Athena shifted on her chair and held her hand out to her owl.

Athene hopped on her hand.

Apollo has-has-

Her wings flapped with urgency. 

“Athene, calm yourself. Take a deep breath.” Athena stroked her owl’s chest to soothe it.

The chick! Sweet little chick!

“Perseleia is with Artemis but she’ll return shortly,” Athena cooed.

No! Apollo and chick! Athene hooted.

“What of Apollo and my daughter?” Athena asked.

Apollo has placed an egg inside the chick! Chick will have a chick!

Athena froze in shock.

I am sorry my lady, I have failed you! Athene bowed her head in apology.

Athena couldn’t believe it. 

She had believed her daughter to be safe!

She had also believed her father would never harm her daughter but that was a hope cruelly shattered. 

“Mother?” She heard her daughter call out. 

What happened?

Why didn’t her daughter call out for help?

Athena would have come.

Athena would have fought for her the way no one did for her when Hephaestus tried… Athena shivered. How had she failed her daughter so?

“Here.” Athena called out to her daughter and braced herself for the the sight of her daughter covered in bruises, dress ripped, and-

Perseleia entered the inner sanctum of the aerie and to Athena’s relief, she didn’t look distressed. Then her rage surfaced when Apollo walked in with her.

“You!” Athena roared. 

She stood, toppling over her chair and sending Athene flying off to her nest in the rafters, her spear flew to her hand and Athena charged towards her brother.

“Mother, wait! Wait!” Perseleia held her arms out to shield Apollo.

“You dare violate my daughter! MY DAUGHTER!” Athena snarled; the hissing of snakes and the screech of owls echoing in her voice made her brother rightly flinch.

“Athena, please,” Apollo cowardly hid behind Perseleia.

“Mother, it was consensual!” Perseleia assured her.

“I just got her back! I just got her back and now you take her from me?!” Athena hissed.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, I’m not the mother!”

Athena paused; while she was born and had a daughter born in an unusual way, Athena was very sure that for the most part, pregnancy involved a man (usually Zeus) and a woman (usually anyone other than Hera) capable of carrying a child and sex. Even Dionysus, though born from Zeus’ thigh, was conceived with sex.

“Are you taking me for a fool?” Athena turned on her daughter with disbelief.

“Mother,” Perseleia gently stepped forward and adjusted where Athena was pointing her spear, “Coronis, Apollo’s most recent lover, cheated on him with a mortal man. Artemis killed her and the lover. The baby couldn’t be born, it was too early. I offered to carry the baby. That’s all. Apollo hasn’t broken the vow you made him swear. I promise.” 

Athena could feel the truth of her daughter’s words but it didn’t make her any less furious.

“You couldn’t have stitched the fetus to your thigh?” Athena snarled at her brother.

“There wasn’t time. And the demigod wasn’t as far along as Dionysus was.” Perseleia said.

“Athena, I swear to you, Perseleia offered it without prompting, without coercion.” Apollo swore.

Athena glared at her brother before hissing, “Get out.” 

Apollo nodded and left, but not before sharing a look with her daughter. 

Athena’s eyes followed him as he left and didn’t return her attention to Perseleia until she felt him leave the aerie.

“Perseleia, my daughter, my life, my sweet owlet, be honest with me: he didn’t touch you or force you or-” Athena didn’t realize she had tears streaming down her cheeks until Perseleia took her spear and set it aside and hugged her. 

“I promise. I didn’t have sex with Apollo. He didn’t force me. It was a completely platonic offer I made because Apollo is my friend and the baby is part of my domain as a demigod.” Perseleia assured her. “He asked many times if I was sure.”

Athena held her daughter and sobbed in relief. 

“Oh my owlet,” Athena cried.

“I thought-”

“I know.” Perseleia rubbed her back in comfort. “If you want to stop crying, just imagine father finding out.”

Athena let out a wet laugh and wiped the tears from her eyes. “It's late. You need your rest.”

Though her daughter was no longer days old, Athena still tucked her in; Athena was secretly thankful her daughter let her. 

Her daughter, it felt as if it were the last year Perseleia sprung from the fountain fully formed and now she was pregnant.

She didn’t want to lose her again.

Her heart couldn’t take it.

///

Apollo called Corvus to him once he entered his temple.

Corvus landed on his hand and Apollo stroked the white feathers. 

“Corvus, thank you for your loyalty and your service towards me. I would like to reward you for your service.” Apollo said. 

Corvus tilted his head and bowed. 

“For your loyalty, I bestow upon you the highest honor I can give you.” As Apollo stroked the raven, his pure white feathers darkened until they were pure black like the goddess of loyalty who’s hair was just as dark. “Now everyone will see your honor.”

Thank you, lord. I am honored to share the night sky as your beloved.

Chapter Text

While hunting, the Prince Actaeon stumbled upon a lake where Artemis was bathing. Shocked and amazed at her beauty, he could only stare at the goddess. Upon discovering him, Artemis, in her rage, took away his speech and turned him into a stag. When the hunting dogs caught his scent, they went into a frenzy and tore apart the stag.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, carrying my brother’s child.” Artemis rolled her eyes.

“It’s not like we had sex, Artemis. It’s a demigod. This demigod is very important and must be born.” Perseleia argued. 

Artemis had seen the unsent love letters her brother had written, the songs, the poetry, the painting that are an homage to the goddess who was now carrying his child. 

“Mmm hmm.”

“Artemis, this baby, this demigod, will grow to be a healer that will surpass your brother in skill. He is so important to humanity, to the gods. I know that what I am about to say to you will be misconstrued and used as an argument in the future to further subjugate women, but trust me, you will see the importance of this child!” Perseleia said so earnestly, so passionately, Artemis had no choice but to believe this was another vision of the future her friend saw.

Artemis sighed. 

“I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me truly.” Artemis said.

“Of course.” 

“Are you stringing along my brother?”

“What?”

“I’m going to be frank with you: if this is some ploy to drag him along, to toy with his heart, it is cruel. He adores you. More than you could ever know and I love my brother. I will take his side. I will be so cruel to you if you are only doing this to hurt him; his feelings for you be damned.” Artemis swore.

“Artemis, I care very deeply for your brother. I told him after the race that I could only offer friendship because I know how much he loves his children; they are his greatest joys and I cannot take that away from him. If I married him, I would expect complete and utter loyalty from him; if he strayed, it would destroy me. I am sparing us the agony of becoming like your King father and Queen stepmother. While this may seem unkind, friendship is the kindest offering I can give.” Perseleia said.

Artemis studied her friend, her sister in all but parentage. 

It was the truth.

Or what Perseleia believed to be the truth.

“Do you love him?” Artemis asked, quietly.

“I care-”

“Do-” Artemis grabbed her friend's arms and forced her friend to look in her eyes. “Do you, Perseleia Athenide, love my brother?”

Perseleia shut her eyes and looked down. 

A soft answer was given to the goddess of the hunt.

An answer that was promised never to be told to Apollo.

Percy had worried about telling Artemis she was pregnant with the child of the woman she killed to avenge her brother, but she took it rather well all things considered… Athena had cried and threatened Apollo, Artemis had kind of/sort of given her the shovel talk about her twin, Percy was kind of looking forward to telling Persephone and seeing if she could get the goddess to turn something into a plant.

Persephone had joined them after spending her first month out of the Underworld with her mother but there was just something… different about her.

After spending the duration of her father’s punishment in the Underworld recovering from there, Percy liked to think she got to know Persephone on another level; getting bathed by and dressed by the Queen of the Underworld when unable to do so herself tended to bring two people closer together in friendship.

Something was off. 

Something was-

Percy scrunched her face in confusion as her eyes immediately were drawn to Persephone’s stomach.

She couldn't be…

“I have something to tell you.” Persephone said.

Oh gods, Percy could see it now. 

She did look more “glowy” but that could also be this was the first time she saw Persephone in the sun in six months.

It didn’t mean that she was…

“I also have something to tell you.” Percy said.

“It’s quite shocking, mother had a fit.” Persephone said gleefully.

It wasn’t…

“Ooo, I can give you a run for your drachma.” Percy laughed nervously.

“We’ll just say what we have to say at the same time.” Persephone said. “Just to get it out there.” 

“Agreed. One,” 

“Two,” 

“Three, I’m pregnant!”

“I’m pregnant!”

The two said at the same time and then stared at the other in shock.

“What?!” Persephone said in shock. “How? When? With who?! You were out of the underworld for only a month!” 

“What about you? We spent most of our time together and I know you weren’t having sex with Hades while I was around.” Percy deflected. 

“Hades is quite romantic!” Persephone argued. “He packed a picnic,”

“Oh gods,” Percy winced. 

“It was lovely and he was so sweet and when a king and a queen love each other very much-why am I defending myself to you? Who got you pregnant? Who is the most hated god in the pantheon right now?” Persephone demanded to know.

“Okay, before you say anything, Apollo is-”

“Oh, STYX!” Persephone swore and a field of sunflowers grew around them.

“We didn’t have sex!” Percy cried.

“That’s basically how you get pregnant. I know Athena and Artemis are virgins but surely Amphitrite has told you-” Persephone looked skeptical.

“Oh my gods!” Percy cringed. “NO! Apollo’s lover cheated on him,” 

“Pity sex?!” Persephone looked like she was judging all of Percy’s life choices thus far and to be fair, so was Percy.

“Just listen to me! Artemis killed Coronis, Coronis was pregnant, the baby is fated to be the best healer, I offered to carry the baby! That’s it!” Percy used her hands to gesture and emphasize.

Persephone raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Mmm hmm.” 

“How did Demeter react?” Percy asked. 

“She tried to march down to the Underworld to turn Hades into wheat. Athena?” Persephone covered her mouth as she giggled. 

“She tried to murder Apollo with her spear and,” Percy held out her arm and mimicked a hoot. 

A beautiful tawny owl flew out of the nearest tree and landed on her arm. The owl proceeded to rub its face and groom Percy’s hair. It’s orange tinted wings flapped in happiness at being on her arm.

“I must have a chaperone with me at all times I am not with mother; there are more owls around here somewhere.” Percy laughed as the owl nibbled her cheek with its beak.

“I’m surprised she let you leave her temple.” Persephone said.

“She didn’t want me to but she had to get ready for the Summer Solstice. This was the compromise. And she also knows you have a mean streak.” Percy teased. 

“You know what this means? We get to be pregnant together!” Persephone looped her arm with Percy’s. “Oh this will be so fun. And much more tolerable.” 

“It feels so weird.” Percy said.

“Who do you want for your midwife?” Persephone asked. 

“Artemis.” Percy immediately answered. 

“Oh thank you! Eileithyia, she’s just…” Persephone winced.

“Yeah. I don’t really trust her after what she did to Alcmene. And I saw just how kind Artemis is during labor when delivering Perseus. And she is our friend.” Percy said.

“Artemis did ease Leto’s pain when delivering Apollo.” Persephone said. “And asking her to be our midwife would really be a good experience for her Hunters to witness.” 

“Nothing like the horrors of childbirth to make one re-vow eternal maidenhood.” Percy teased. 

“Indeed. Ah, there is Artemis. Hopefully we can catch her before the meeting.” Persephone led Percy towards their friend’s temple.

Apollo fought with himself to pay attention to the meeting but his mind constantly wandered back to soft shores, waves of black and white, of sea green eyes that reflected his sun’s rays and shimmered like emeralds, of cheeks that were kissed by the sun but not by him that were reminiscent of the starry sky. 

How could one fault him?

The woman, the goddess he desired, his dear friend was pregnant with his child! 

She, who is loyalty personified, stood before the cheating princess and declared before Coronis drew her last breath, that she would carry the child. 

Oh gods, what were the Fates doing to him?

They and Styx must be challenging him. 

It was the only reason why.

This must be the baby Perseleia was waiting for!

Apollo had not made any changes to the wedding plan he had originally had prior to the Bird Race but he would make any change Perseleia wanted if it was not up to her standards.

The meeting was over; Apollo had thankfully not been stabbed with Poseidon’s trident but he did make it a point to glare at Apollo. That was fine, Apollo had been glared at by every male god for seemingly, and according to them, been the one to take the Athenide’s virginity and produced a child.

Something that Poseidon apparently heard and believed before he was intercepted by his daughter and Athena before the council meeting. He prayed his uncle’s rage was tempered by speaking with Perseleia earlier.

“Apollon,” Poseidon’s voice was deep and echoed through Apollo’s being. “I would have a word with you.” 

Apollo glanced at where Artemis was, speaking to two of his sisters and Perseleia, before turning to his uncle and nodding. 

Apollo followed his uncle into a separate corridor and no sooner had they left the sight of the others, did Poseidon slam him into the stone wall with the prongs of his trident underneath Apollo’s chin. 

“You made a vow to stay away from her, you promised Athena you’d stay away from her. You promised to abide by my daughter’s request for friendship and this is how you repay her? You dishonor her and break your oath to not force her?” Poseidon growled with all the anger of a father. “I take you in and teach you how to control your gift of prophecy. I gave you Delphi. I taught you how to reign in the horses of the sun when they no longer responded to Helios. I watched and protected you like my own son when we were enslaved at Troy and this is how you repay me? By hurting my daughter and forcing her to carry your child?”

Or maybe he believed what the gossip was saying. 

“A pregnant lover cheated on me. Artemis killed her. Perseleia saw the child was important and offered to carry it out of friendship.” Apollo said steadily. “It was only out of friendship that your daughter offered to carry the baby. It was out of respect for you that I asked her if she was sure more than once.” 

Apollo looked into the stormy eyes of the man who was more of a father to him than the King and did not waver. 

“I promise you, upon your loyal daughter’s name and the sacred river she crosses when carrying the souls of your seas, I did not rape her or force her to carry my child.” Apollo said.

Poseidon studied Apollo and judged the weight of his sworn promise before releasing him. 

“For your sake, my daughter better have the gentlest pregnancy and smoothest birth.” Poseidon threatened. 

“I believe Artemis was requested to be her midwife.” Apollo said.

“I trust Artemis with my daughter. Perhaps you have done me a service by getting my daughter pregnant; perhaps this will show her that she doesn’t want children with the price of labor and will never get pregnant again.” Poseidon released him.

Apollo could only nod.

He could not deny that he wanted children of his and Perseleia's one day, but not at the cost of her body and psyche. If Perseleia wanted children, Apollo would say how many. If she did not desire any children after carrying this one, Apollo would respect her desires.

“Do not presume to get her pregnant again.” Poseidon snarled and left him there to say goodbye to his daughter before leaving for the rest of the summer.

Apollo was used to disappointment, Zeus was disappointed all the time, yet Poseidon might as well have pierced him with the trident.

He had never wanted to disappoint the man who was more of a father than an uncle. 

He hoped to get back in Poseidon’s good graces eventually.

Apollo left the council chambers and stepped into the open summer day to the most wondrous sight: Perseleia was standing next to Athena, ever the dutiful guardian and standing taller than Perseleia and his twin, and Artemis, who had taken on the height of a moral with Perseleia. Her raven dark hair was pinned up in braids and silver headbands that kept her soft yellow veil in place. 

She wore a peplos that could only be described as sunset. Her arms had silver bands along with the bracelets her parents must have given her. 

She was smiling at his twin as she spoke and while she looked like sunlight incarnate, it was as if she was bending the light to radiate from her. She had a soft glow around her and Apollo didn’t know if it was from his child or from the goddess herself. 

Apollo was determined to commit the sight to memory.

He was determined to get every detail exact when he painted her later. It would be a crime against humanity, against the arts, against Loyalty herself if he did not capture how radiant she looked right now. 

Apollo sighed longingly as he commanded the light to be gentle around her, to always shine upon her. If he could not hold her or kiss her skin, let his sun’s rays do it in his stead.

Apollo painted her likeness and when he was finished, he sent a dream to his priests; let them know of Loyalty’s beauty and erect monuments, let the poets and musician’s be inspired. 

Let the world be rightfully inspired by Loyalty.

///

The day was drawing to an end and Apollo’s chariot was descending in the West when Actaeon and his hunting party decided to return home.

“Go ahead. It is a beautiful evening and I wish to savor it.” Actaeon sent everyone ahead. 

He took a more scenic route through the forest when he heard laughter. Assuming it was nymphs, Actaeon slowed his pace and quieted his steps. 

There was the sound of water, growing louder with each step where the nymphs must be.

Actaeon knew they were startled easily and so stuck to the shadows.

He peered through the foliage when he caught sight of the most beautiful women in the world.

The first one, she looked to be glowing in the light of the fading sun. Her hair was untamed and free like fire. She appeared to be the youngest of the three.

The second, her brown tresses were as rich as the soil. Her skin looked smooth despite appearing to spend her days in the sun. Her laugh sounded like the chirping of spring birds as she rubbed her pregnant belly.

The third, oh the third, her hair was as dark as a raven’s wing except for when she turned and there were strands of pure starlight framing her face. Her eyes appeared to be the color of the water. 

Once he laid eyes upon the third, no other nymph bathing could tempt his gaze.

Actaeon had found Loyalty and her nymphs bathing.

Perhaps Actaeon would do something Apollo never could; he could capture her and make Loyalty his wife and prove himself to be a better hunter than Artemis.

Artemis, you’re being watched!

Artemis heard the warning her twin spoke in her mind and then she felt it: someone was witnessing her huntresses and her sisters bathe.

She stretched out her senses and-there!

“Men are not allowed to gaze upon my maidens.” Artemis spoke to the brush concealing the hunter. 

Perseleia and the Hunters sunk further below the waters to avoid being seen.

Persephone waved her hand and the trees and the bushes pushed the man into view.

“You foul, disgusting, man, you will never speak of this. You will never speak anything again.” Artemis growled as she turned the man into a stag. “You will die slowly, ripped into a thousand pieces.” 

The stag darted around the grotto looking for a way out but it was blocked by the trees. 

“When you reach the Underworld,” Persephone said brightly, “give the King my love.” 

She waved a hand and the trees parted. 

Artemis heard the howls of dogs and the cries of a stag not long after the deer took off. 

“Well, that was exciting.” Perseleia said, trying to ease the Hunter’s anxieties about being seen by a man.

“The audacity of males.” Artemis sniffed.

“Can you help me up?” Perseleia asked. 

Artemis and Phoebe, a new hunter she picked up on Crete, each grabbed a hand while Britomartis got behind and helped lift Perseleia up. 

“Thank you. Don’t get pregnant, girls.” Perseleia said as she shuffled towards the edge of the grotto.

“I joined the Hunt to avoid that, thank you very much.” Anticleia teased, also tried to lighten the tension, as she helped the pregnant goddess out of the grotto and clothe her once more.

“Thank you, again, for helping me bathe. I love your brother, he’s a good friend, but I am never getting pregnant again; this is horrible.” Perseleai thanked Artemis once more.

“Think nothing of it. You and Persephone are my sisters and while I don’t understand why you two would get pregnant in the first place, I will always support you.” Artemis dressed and cupped Perseleia’s cheeks. “Now, if you are ready, I can take you back to your mother?”

“No, Camp, please. There are some girls there who are interested in your hunt.” Perseleia braided her hair over her shoulder. 

“Then to Camp I shall take you.” Artemis said, grinning at the prospect of new Hunters.

///

2002 AD

Apollo went to the theater after one of his children asked him to go. His child was one of the concept artists for the characters and had wanted their father to see what they had done for the movie.

"Father, I took inspiration from... I'm just really proud of how it turned out." His child prayed to him.

Apollo went into the movie theater expecting to be proud of his child.

He had left the theater numb.

Apollo didn't say anything until he went into his temple. He passed all the artwork his children had made over the years, simple drawings from the young ones, to pottery from the older ones, each holding a special place in his heart. He eventually went into his private studio and pulled off the sheet of one painting.

It was of her; wearing her sunset peplos, her hair braided up and held in place with the silver headbands.

Apollo finally broke down in gut wrenching sobs.

He had not expected to see a woman inspired strongly by Loyalty in a Star Wars movie.

Chapter Text

According to Delphian tradition, Aclepius was born in the temple of Apollo while Phoenician tradition states that Asclepius was born of Apollo and does not mention a woman. The Romans believed that as Coronis died, she revealed to Apollo that she was pregnant with his son and in vain, Apollo tried to save her; Apollo could only cut the son from his dead mother’s belly before she was consumed by the flames of her funeral pyre.

Percy said her goodbyes to the children at camp; kissing many heads and promising to return next spring with reminders that her foxes and otters will remind them of her should they get lonely.

Many children wept at her leaving but Apollo’s children stood separate from the others, patiently waiting their turn. 

Delia, the eldest of Apollo’s daughters, came up once the others had dispersed and tried to put on a brave face for her siblings. 

“Will you promise to be okay?” A young one, about five years old, asked. 

“I will be in my father’s seas. I promise you, I will be as safe as I can be.” Percy would kneel but at seven months pregnant, she didn’t trust herself to get back up again without help. “And when I come back, you will have another brother.” 

The little sunbeams gathered around Percy and each gave her a hug goodbye.

“I still think it will be a girl.” Apollo said, looking bittersweet as he watched his children say goodbye to their patron.

“You are wrong.” Percy said in a sing-song voice; Asclepius just had two months left and then he would be here.

“So you think.” 

“I don’t think, I know.” Percy said to Apollo.

“Of course.” He relented.

“Will, I mean, you’ll be alright, won’t you?” Delia asked. 

Percy knew what she was really asking. 

She took Delia’s hand and squeezed it.
“Your baby brother,” Percy shot a look at Apollo when she said brother, “and I will be just fine. Your aunt Artemis will be the midwife for me once labor starts, my sea mother Amphitrite and my sister Rhodes will help me also. I will be okay. I promise.” 

Delia nodded though there were tears in her blue-green eyes. “I don’t want you to die like my mother did. You’re the closest person I have to a mother!” 

Percy felt like she got punched in the gut as the poor child hugged her.

“Well, it’s a good thing Perseleia is a goddess, isn’t it?” Apollo said lightly, though, Percy was secretly terrified of labor; Sally had once described giving birth to her as trying to take your lower lip and stretching it down towards your feet and up again on the other side. 

Percy remembered another time when she was older, how Sally told her more of the medical details of her birth; how her body ripped and bled, how there was a point where Sally thought she would lose the baby, how Percy had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck and was breached, how after all of that,  Percy had to be cut out of her mother in an emergency c-section.

And Asclepius was the first to be born via c-section.

“Hmmm.” Percy hummed in faint agreement for the sake of the children. “We’ll see each other again, sweetness. I promise.” 

One of Apollo’s sons held a strip of yellow ribbon and wrapped it around her wrist. “So you’ll come back,” he said.

His siblings took that as their cue to wrap more ribbons around her wrists and Percy felt her heart squeeze at their cuteness.

Once Delia had stopped her tears and led her siblings back to the main camp for archery with Chiron, Dionysus came forth to say his own goodbyes.

He looked so different to the Mr. D Percy knew; where Mr. D looked like a cherub who went middle age in a trailer park and had a Diet Coke addiction in lieu of wine, ever since ascending to godhood, Dionysus remained youthful and androgynous; his long dark curls were past his shoulders with ivy leaves upon his curls, his violet eyes were rich and lined with kohl, and he had the preference of wearing long chitons with a purple himation.

“Mother.” He nodded. 

“No hug?” Percy teased. 

Dionysus looked unsure as his eyes darted between her and Apollo. 

“Dio?” Percy said. 

“I am worried I’ll squeeze too hard and hurt you.” Dionysus admitted.

“You and Apollo; I am not breakable!” Percy pulled Dionysus into a hug; he tensed and froze but eventually warmed up and gingerly reciprocated the hug.

“You’ll be good while I’m gone?” Percy asked. 

“Of course.” 

“No wild parties with the children who stay, no turning anyone into a dolphin just to send a message to me, no turning anyone insane.” Percy said.

“I shall only party away from the children with my Maenads. I shall refrain from turning children who miss you into dolphins to see you. And I will only turn those who wish to harm my fellow adoptive siblings to madness.” Dionysus repeated what he always did when Percy left for the sea.

“Good.” Percy smiled at Dionysus, who brightened under her attention. “I’ll see you in the spring.” 

Apollo offered his arm to Percy.

Percy rolled her eyes but accepted nonetheless; allowing Apollo to steady her as they walked. 

“You’re worried.” Apollo murmured. 

“I just have a feeling…” Percy couldn’t tell him how her mother nearly died to give birth to her, couldn’t tell him how she spent all her mortal life terrified of birth, how even though she was a goddess (she was still in denial about that) she still feared she wouldn’t make it. 

“Perseleia, I promise you, so long as Artemis and I are there, nothing will happen to you or the baby girl.” Apollo promised. 

“Boy.” 

“Girl.” 

“Boy.” Percy insisted.

“Agree to disagree.” Apollo teased as he brought her to the shore line. “You promise to call Artemis and I the moment it starts?”

“Yeah, I promise.” 

Styx, why does he have to be so caring and a good father?!

Percy noticed she was still holding his arm.

Apollo made no move to let go of her as well.

“I’ll make sure father and Triton don’t murder you when your son arrives.” Percy teased. “See you in a bit.” 

Apollo never wanted this moment to end. He wanted to stay here with Perseleia here, on the shore in the light of his setting sun, with her hand in his and his baby girl (he was certain it would be a girl) in her womb.

She wore another dress of sunlight, stitching of flowers the demigods have gifted her with her own hand scattered the entire fabric as well as the sunshine colored veil. Her hair was unbound and free as her soul; the only thing binding her curls was a thin floral stitched headband to keep her veil on her head.

She looked as if she were already his lady wife and lady of his house. 

Her silver strands were blowing in the breeze and Apollo gently, as if she would disappear under his touch, tucked the silver curl behind her ear.

He felt his heart stop as she looked up at him. 

“Phoebus,” she whispered. 

“Ophelia,” he whispered her epithet breathlessly.

Her eyes darted down to his lips and then back to his eyes.

For a brief moment, he was sure she was going to kiss him.

“I should go.” She whispered.

Apollo didn’t want her to leave just yet, he wanted to treasure this moment. 

It pained him as her hand left his.

The sea breeze following her wake mocked him as she slipped away.

Once more, Apollo saw his beloved, the sun that brighten his whole world, his life, disappear below the waves of her father’s sea. 

Delphin and his troop had arrived to take her home and were waiting past the shoals for Percy.

“You weren’t waiting too long for me, were you?” Percy asked her father’s most trusted Lieutenant outside of his blood; after all Delphin had done for her father, the god was practically family.

“Of course not, Princess.” Delphin squeaked and then looked surprised. He let out a few more squeaks and swam around Percy. “You carry a little one! I knew the King was furious on your behalf but I can sense the calf you carry! What a blessing, Princess.” 

“You can sense the baby? Is he okay?” One fault of Ancient Greece: no ultrasounds but dolphins and sonar were better than nothing. 

“Princess, I am no healer-”

“You can sense the baby better than anyone else can. Please, Delphin?” Percy pulled out the pleading seal eyes that got her father to cave every time.

Delphin looked a little embarrassed in front of the other dolphins but he relented. 

Each dolphin and Delphin squeaked and clicked before coming to a consensus. 

“As far as we could gather, and based on your mother’s previous pregnancies, the young calf is smaller than your godly siblings but his heart beat is strong, just like yours, Princess.” Delphin whistled. 

Percy grinned. “I knew it was a boy. Thank you, Delphin for proving me right.” 

“As always, Princess.” Delphin clicked and offered his fin to Percy.

When they arrived back at the palace, Percy could see her family running around ready for the welcome home celebration.

Kym was the first to welcome her. 

“You little storm,” Kym cackled as she swam over and hugged her little sister. “Oh father was so furious. I have never seen him this livid since your birth and the custody battle.”

“Give me your hand.” Percy didn’t wait for her to respond before taking Kym’s hand and placing it over her swollen stomach.

Kym’s eyes went wide as she felt the kick under her hand.

“Wow! This little one is going to be a good swimmer. Or a fighter.” Kym laughed in delight. 

“He’s going to be a great healer. Even better than Apollo.” Percy smiled.

“So sure it’s a boy? With a kick that strong, it better be a girl.” Kym wrapped her arm around Percy and guided her sister to where their mother was fussing over bioluminescent algae not being enough for their daughter’s return.

“I think it’s enough.” Percy said, just to add her own opinion.

“Nonsense! You deserve the best after such a strenuous time on the surface.” Amphitrite swam over and scooped Percy up in her hands; the Queen often loved taking on a form larger than the blue whales if only to hold Percy in the palm of her hand. “Why haven’t you given birth yet? Your siblings came out only a couple days after their conception.”

“Mortal children are fragile, mother.” Percy rested comfortably in her godly mother’s hand; her joints felt sore and her lower back just ached constantly above the surface but in the ocean, Percy could just float and be weightless and allow herself to be carried around by Amphitrite. “The little one just needs time.” 

“How much longer? I cannot bear to see you in such pain.” Amphitrite’s powerful strokes from her tail carried them from the entry to the throne room where Poseidon was finishing up court.

“Two months, if all is well. Delphin was concerned that he was smaller than Triton or my sisters, but with the baby being mortal, I’m not too concerned.” Percy said.

Amphitrite looked perplexed. 

“But Delphin is no healer, if the baby is small, you must see the healers!” 

“Delphin could see the baby because of his echolocation. All the dolphins can. Delphin was the one to tell me it would be a boy but I saw it would be.” Percy said.

Amphitrite paused and considered her words.

“Then perhaps, a dolphin or two could assist with the midwives. I will speak to the healers and the other dolphins about this. If the citizens consent, we’ll do a trial basis and go from there.” Amphitrite said. 

Poseidon looked up from his throne and saw his wife with their daughter in the palm of her hands.

“Perseleia, my sweet riptide, you’ve come home!” Poseidon leaped from his throne and the currents carried him to Amphitrite and Percy. 

Amphitrite shrunk down to about seventeen feet in size while Poseidon towered over them both at twenty feet in size. 

“You are far too small for the sea, how can you insist on staying the size of a mortal?” Poseidon gingerly picked up his daughter and looked over her for any changes besides her growing stomach.

“It is the size I am most comfortable, father. I don’t want to risk stepping on my campers.” Percy said, restating her point on the old argument.

“You’re still the size of an infant, my sweet child.” Poseidon said, before noticing the color of her robes. “You must be exhausted from your travels. Why don’t you rest and change before the gala.” 

Percy had to suppress a snicker; her father for some reason found it irritating when she wore yellow.

Once the celebration was started and Percy had changed in a peplos with blues as the flowing rivers and a cloak as deep as the seas, her hair no longer bound with ribbons and headbands of yellow from her campers, but with pearls giving her hair the illusion of a starry sky.

Percy let everyone think her smile was from relief she had returned to the sea; no one would get this reference for another three thousand years give or take and six movies about stars and war.

Triton had taken it upon himself to be her personal guard against everyone not part of the royal family.

“Triton, don’t you think you are overreacting a tad?” Percy asked, after comforting a child who, in Triton’s opinion, got too close and was snapped at. 

“You are in a delicate way, dear sister. I shall not take such risks for your safety. It was bad enough to lose Rhodes to Helios, and I shall not take any risks regarding you.” Triton said.

“But making a child cry is protecting me?” Percy countered.

“They got too close.” 

“They just wanted to give me a bouquet of sea grass they grew themself. It’s all right.” Percy said with exasperation.

“I will not take risks with your safety.” Triton said stubbornly.

“I’m going to Rhodes.” Percy rolled her eyes and swam away.

“I shall assist you!” Triton swam after her. 

///

It was nearing the 32nd week of pregnancy, for Asclepius, not the time Percy was pregnant, when Percy started feeling kicks a lot lower than where they usually were. When it felt like the kicks were kicking towards her hips, Percy bit back her concerns and went to see a healer. 

“Is there anything I should be concerned about?” Percy asked. 

Galene, one of Amphitrite’s many sisters, palpated her stomach in various places but kept alternating between low by Percy’s pelvis and high by her breasts. 

“Give me some time; Risso, could you double check the Princess?” Galene called out.

A grey dolphin that looked like a beluga entered the room and whistled a greeting to Percy before whistling at her stomach. 

The calf is breached! Risso squeaked. 

“Oh?” Percy said concerned.

“I wouldn’t worry about it now, Princess. You are coming up on the thirty-second week. You have plenty of time between now and labor for the little one to turn properly. In the meantime, we’ll have you on bed rest and check on the baby daily.” Galene said. 

Percy unconsciously wrapped her arms around her stomach.

Asclepius was the first c-section baby; that was a certainty.

So however this birth was going to go, eventually, Percy was going to be cut open.

That knowledge was… 

“It’s okay to be scared.” Galene placed a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Amphitrite was nervous with her first child. Perhaps you should speak with your mother and Lady Rhodes about your anxieties?”

Percy nodded and left. 

The next day, she felt horrible pain in her lower back; too intense to move, too intense for the ocean to do anything to relieve her pain. Her joints felt tense one minute and then loose the next.

Amphitrite spent the day with her telling her stories of the sea when she was just a young girl. 

Percy didn’t think anything of her pain so she didn’t speak up.

She didn’t even think it was unusual when she slept more. Ever since she got pregnant, she had always been more tired than before.

In the middle of the night, right before the official 32 weeks, Percy awoke to the feeling of stabbing in her lower back and abdomen.

It was so strong, Percy almost vomited from the pain. 

When it subsided, Percy gasped for breath before weakly calling out, “mom? Mom? MAMA!”

Percy smelled something different and in the dim light of her room, she saw a dark cloud of blood floating in the water and then a gush flow from between her legs.

“MOTHER!” Percy screamed again as another cramp took over.

Percy didn’t know who, but someone came at some point and was holding her hand and brushing her hair from her face.

When she came to her senses, Amphitrite was there, telling her it was going to be alright and that she was brave. 

“Mama?”

“I’m here. Rhodes is getting Galene, your father went to Hera to see if she and Eileithyia were causing you undue distress, and Triton went to get Artemis.” Amphitrite said. 

“Don’t leave,” Percy whimpered.

“I’m right here, my little seal pup.” Amphitrite squeezed her hand and kissed her brow. 

It was night but thankfully, the moon was not in the sky and Triton hoped to find Artemis on Delos; he would hate to have to search all the wilds for the goddess. 

Not waiting to be invited in, Triton stormed the beach and walked towards the gold and silver temples of the twin archers.

Apollo and Artemis must have sensed his arrival because they were waiting for him.

“Triton, how are you this fine evening?” Apollo said brightly, as if he weren’t the reason Triton’s little sister was in pain. 

Triton hissed at him before turning his attention to Artemis. 

“Something is wrong. She’s laboring.” Triton said. 

Artemis immediately started running towards him, towards the sea. 

“It’s too soon!” Artemis cried as she ran. 

Apollo, upon seeing his sister run, unfroze from his shock and took off after her and the messenger god.

“You have done enough!” Triton hissed at him when they reached the shore.

“He can help. He will be useful for the healing!” Artemis dived below the waves. 

“Fine. Come then and be useful, but for my sister’s sake, you better pray nothing horrible goes wrong.” Triton threatened before also diving below the waves. 

Apollo didn’t even rebut him as he followed his cousin and his sister.

Triton and the twins appeared inside the palace, in a corridor outside the royal family’s chambers and rooms. 

There were screams coming from one of the rooms that made his blood freeze and his heart clench.

Apollo ran towards the closed doors and using his shoulder, broke the door open. 

Inside he saw a nereid between Perseleia’s legs trying to stop the bleeding with a towel that was soaked with blood, Rhodes assisting the nereid and passing clean towels, and Amphitrite, cradling Perseleia’s head and shoulders in her arms. 

Perseleia’s face was red and contorted in pain. 

Her hair was soaked with sweat.

And there was just so much blood. 

“What’s happened?” Apollo switched into healer mode.

“The baby is breached and she has started labor. There is too much blood to try and rotate the calf. Contractions have jumped from five minutes to one.” The nereid responded.

“I need herbs, olive oil, sea sponges that you use for birth, fresh wool to clean the infant. We’ll have to go without the birthing stool, it’s too dangerous to move her.” Artemis said as she quickly took over for the nereid.

“Yes, my lady.” The nereid bowed and swam out of room. 

“Rhodes, get a pillow and place it under her hips.” Artemis ordered. 

Perseleia cried out as she was moved.

“Is it safe to birth the baby underwater?” Apollo asked. 

“Poseidon blessed the babe to breathe without issue should the baby be born under the sea.” Amphitrite answered. 

“Apollo, when she comes back, you need to help me.” Artemis said.

“You are in charge here.” Apollo relinquished control to his sister. 

Time felt so agonizingly slow as they couldn’t get the bleeding to stop. 

The nereid returned with the supplies along with a pithos of something that smelled like Dionysus’ strongest wines. 

“Drink, it will take the edge off.” The nymph held the pithos to Perseleia’s lips. 

“What are you giving her?” Artemis said while soaking up blood with one of the clean sponges.

“Laminaria tea, it’s a type of seaweed we have mothers consume prior to delivery.” Amphitrite said. “Our riptide certainly caught us unprepared.” 

“Apollo, I need you to raise her feet up so I can go in and turn the baby around.” Artemis said. 

Apollo could not enjoy finally being between his beloved’s because she was turning paler by the second and sweating so horribly; labor for a goddess should not be going this wrong.

Apollo held her legs apart as Artemis checked the dilation and then slowly inserted her hand but when she got to her knuckles Artemis’ lips curled downward as she pulled her hand out. 

“The cord is wrapped around the neck. I cannot turn him.” Artemis said.

Rhodes’ face was blank as she accepted the news. 

Amphitrite choked back a sob. 

Perseleia… she did not look surprised. 

It hit him: she knew. 

She saw this would happen.

“You… you have to cut him out!” Perseleia gasped.

“No!” Amphitrite cried.

“Apollo,” Perseleia whimpered but her eyes found his. “I saw it. It’s the only way.” 

“No, you can do it. We just have to stop the bleeding.” The nymph shushed Perseleia.

“I… trust-” Perseleia closed her eyes and went limp. 

“Pup, pup wake up. As your mother I order you to wake up!” Amphitrite slapped Perseleia’s cheeks to wake her up. “WAKE UP!” 

Apollo pushed down his worry, his fear, and turned to his sister.

“Artemis, move!” Apollo ordered as he pushed his sister out of the way. “Rhodes, Amphitrite, nymph, hold her arms down.” 

“What are you doing?” Amphitrite asked, crying now.

Apollo moved the pillow out from under her and pulled on Perseleia’s legs so she was laying flat on her bed. When she was where he wanted her, he ripped the bloody nightgown open so he could access her stomach.

“Artemis, you are my second.” Apollo pulled out a hunting knife. 

“What are you doing?!” Amphitrite shrieked at him. 

“What she asked me to do.” Apollo pressed the tip of the knife to her skin and cut transversely from left to right with surgical skill.

“I can’t watch!” Rhodes turned her head away but she still pressed down on her sister’s arm.

Amphitrite squeezed her eyes shut, but the nymph watched with rapt attention as she pinned down the other arm. 

Once Apollo finished cutting, he pulled the two flaps of skin apart.

“We have to get around her organs. Artemis, help me keep her open and her intestines out of the way.” Apollo ordered. 

“Oh gods!” Amphitrite whimpered. 

“We got her,” Apollo said, focusing on pushing Perseleia’s internal organs away so he could find the uterus. “Where oh where… there you are. Knife.” 

Artemis handed him a different hunting knife, a clean one, for Apollo to make the incision. 

“Artie, when I tell you, push on on her stomach.” Apollo set the knife aside and pulled apart the uterus. 

As he did, a thick cloud of blood released, blinding him from seeing anything. 

“Aunt, can you clear the blood?” Apollo asked.

Amphitrite, eyes still shut, waved her hand and the blood dispersed to another side of the room.

“Thank you.” Apollo spread the muscles apart and found him; he was upside down, the cord that gave him life giving nutrients was wrapped around his neck.

Apollo put his hands inside Perseleia and grabbed onto the baby. 

“Push Art.” Apollo ordered. 

Artemis pushed down on Perseleia’s stomach as Apollo guided the baby out.

His heart pounded as he didn’t hear any screaming or cries from the infant but he had to focus.

As soon as the baby’s head was out of the uterus, Apollo nodded to his sister. 

“Cut the cord.” He snapped. 

Artemis, with her second hunting knife, grabbed the cord and severed the cord in two.

Apollo carefully unwrapped the cord from around the boy’s neck. 

As soon as the cord was loose, the cries of an infant filled the room.

Apollo whispered blessings of health upon the boy and felt the baby’s strength increase.

Amphitrite let out a cry of relief.

“Amphitrite, you and Rhodes are the only ones not bloody. Could you clean him up while I heal Perseleia?” Apollo asked.

Amphitrite nodded and left her place at Perseleia’s head to pick up some clean towels and took the tiny baby from Apollo.

Apollo turned back to look at Perseleia’s open body. 

Cautiously, Apollo started to heal her. The water heated up as Apollo used his godly power to stitch her uterus back together. Then he maneuvered her organs back in place. When he was done reattaching her abdomen, Amphitrite had the boy wrapped in a blanket. 

“She’ll need nectar and ambrosia when she wakes.” Apollo said hoarsely. 

Rhodes and Artemis said nothing as they washed the blood off of Perseleia. 

“Why wouldn’t the sea heal her? It has done so before.” The nymph asked the queen.

“This was fated to happen.” Apollo said quietly. “Perseleia saw it. She saw it and still offered to carry him.”

How could she do that for him?

How could Perseleia see the agony she’d be put through and still go through with it?

How could Apollo live with himself now he knew?

The baby hadn’t stopped crying. 

“What? Why?” Artemis asked. 

“That was a new procedure. The first of it’s kind.” Rhodes realized. 

Artemis’ eyes went wide as new knowledge of the birthing procedure entered her mind. 

“It’s too risky. It must only be done if the mother is dying or already dead.” Artemis said. 

“Here,” Amphitrite placed the crying boy in his arms. “I have to get my baby out of that bloody gown.” 

Apollo looked down at the screaming infant. 

Apollo wanted to hate the little thing. He wanted to leave the child on a mountain and never let it see adulthood because cursed Coronis and her child had done something unspeakable to Perseleia but he couldn’t. 

Perseleia had gone through hell to bring this boy into the world. She had carried him knowing the cost of his birth. She had loyally carried the baby for six and a half months for him with no complaint. She had seen the future of this baby and she cherished him with everything she had. 

He changed his mind about having children with Perseleia when they eventually got married. 

How could he possibly put Perseleia through this again? This birth was torturous enough. He is not strong enough to lose her. Logically, Apollo knew that as a goddess, she would be fine but this birth was anything but.

He wanted to hate the infant but he could only love it because he was the most precious gift Perseleia had given him.

He had tufts of dark hair but his eyes seemed to shift between colors much like Aphrodite’s while preferring sky blue and sea green .

“It’s okay,” Apollo rocked the baby boy. “It’s okay. Patéras is here.” 

The boy gave him a small smile before falling asleep in his arms.

“What are you going to name him?”Artemis asked. 

Apollo looked up at his sister and then to where Perseleia lay sleeping and decided; he would name his son in honor of her.

“Asklêpios, because I had to cut Loyalty open so he could breathe.” Apollo named the boy.

Chapter Text

Apollo named the son Asclepius and raised him and taught him about medicine. However, like his half-brother Aristaeus, a hero most notorious for beekeeping, Asclepius was formally educated by Chiron, the trainer of heroes. 

“Hera! You wretched goddess have you no shame?!” Poseidon roared as he stormed into Hera’s temple. 

Hera’s focus on her peacocks and her attendants was shattered at her brother’s declaration. 

“I am sure I don’t know what you speak of.” Hera said apathetically. 

“After what my daughter did for you, this is how you repay her kindness? By using your daughter to withhold mild labor?” Poseidon shouted. 

Hera froze; it was too early, Perseleia wouldn’t be due to give birth for two more months.

“She’s in labor?” Hera’s concern bled into her voice. 

Hera and her niece… well, they were not on opposing terms. They were called together to bless the occasional marriage from time to time and then she was there to comfort Hera when no one else did after Zeus went after that mother of his prized Heracles.

“She can’t be! It’s too soon!” Hera stood to her feet. 

One of her lions brushed her hand with its head out of concern. 

“Iris, fetch Eileithyia and bring her to me!” Hera called out to her messenger who bowed and disappeared in a rainbow. “I assure you brother, I may be cruel to women in the pains of childbirth but only to my husband’s lovers and adulterers.”  

Iris returned with Hera’s daughter behind her.

“Eileithyia, have you done anything to cause your cousin Perseleia to go into labor?” Hera asked before Poseidon could. 

Eileithyia looked surprised. 

“I didn’t know she was laboring. I-” Eileithyia's face had a dawning look of horror. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Poseidon demanded. 

“I can barely sense the pregnancy. It’s like someone is blocking my domain from my grasp.” Eileithyia said, horrified. 

“If it’s not you, and it’s not Artemis, who is causing my daughter such agony?” Poseidon asked.

Iris, who had stepped to the side once she returned with her mistress’ daughter, gasped. 

The gods turned and saw the three daughters of Nyx had appeared. 

Clotho held her spindle; sea green threads and fibers were on the instrument. 

Lachesis held her distaff; the threads and fibers from the spindle turned into yarn as she wrapped them around her distaff.

Atropos held in her hands, a pair of shears.

“Please, I beg you ladies, please do not cut my daughter’s thread!” Poseidon fell to his knees. 

Hera had never seen her brother stoop for anyone.

Bitterly, she realized that not even she would do so for her children just as none would do for her.

“Your daughter labors,” Clotho said. 

“Your daughter pains,” Lachesis continued. 

“As is fated.” Atropos finished. 

“She’s in agony! Please! If you know why she’s tortured so, tell me so I can take the suffering from her.” Poseidon was a proud god but for his children, he would do anything.

“It is fated that the boy shall live,”

“But of the three futures we saw, one thing was for certain,”

“To be born, there must be a cut.” 

Hera’s eyes flickered between the shears and the sea green thread in the Morai’s hands. 

“Not my daughter, please!” Poseidon’s hands clenched in fists. 

“To save many lives, one must suffer,”

“Percy Leia understands and undertook the suffering,”

“Now, many lives will be saved with her pain and the knowledge gained from it.”

Eileithyia gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes filled with tears and she collapsed to her knees with a silent cry.

“What did you-” Hera was cut off just as the newfound  knowledge entered her mind, just as it will enter every mind of every god associated with childbirth and labor. 

Hera gasped in horror as she saw Perseleia fall unconscious in a cloud of blood. She saw Apollo cut her open with a knife and separate her innards so he could reach the uterus. She saw Artemis push on the belly as Apollo delivered the boy through the gaping wound in her niece. 

Hera cried out as she saw just how painful and awful and yet necessary the procedure will become.

“What did you see? You saw my daughter, now tell me what did you see?!” Poseidon questioned them.

“Just as it was fated,” 

“Just as it was always going to be told,” 

“And so it will be written.” 

“Go! Go! Poseidon, please you have to go to her now!” Hera now had tears streaming down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach; gods, her poor niece…

Poseidon took one last glance at the mother and daughter, both with domains of childbirth sobbing on the floor, and the three Fates with his daughter’s thread. 

“Go,” 

“She lives yet,” 

“You still have time. 

Poseidon returned to the sea and his palace to a somber sight: guards were whispering amongst themselves, servants huddled in schools and refused to meet their Lord’s eye. 

Outside of the royal family’s apartments, Triton and his sisters were so still and silent. 

It was then, Poseidon finally noticed, how quiet it was. 

“What happened?” Poseidon demanded. 

Benthesikyme looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “She stopped screaming. She was screaming nonstop and then she just stopped.”

“There is so much blood father,” Kymopoleia, usually so confident, was meak. “Everyone can smell it. Everyone knows. Everyone is scared.” 

Triton… Triton looked haunted. 

Poseidon logically knew that as a goddess, Perseleia was athanatos; she could not die and even if she did, her domains were too strong for her to fade into chaos, his daughter would eventually return to him. 

But the encounter with the Fates shook him. Usually, they waited three days to make their appearance after a birth yet they arrived to him the day his daughter went into labor and spoke of fate.

Then like a sharp knife, a baby’s cry broke the silence. 

The father and his children looked at each other, daring the other to choose who went in first. 

Poseidon had to know. 

He had to see if his daughter, his precious, youngest daughter still lived. 

Poseidon gingerly opened the door to the apartments and was hit with the strong scent of blood. 

Unconsciously, his teeth sharpened and his eyes rolled back into his sockets like sharks.

Poseidon entered the apartments and shut the door; he mentally prepared himself to attack the threat if there was a need.

He followed the smell of blood and the baby’s cry to his daughter’s bedchamber.

He could hear voices and then the baby’s crying stopped. 

Poseidon growled as he saw his daughter’s door had been broken into.

He prepared himself for the sight and pushed the doors open. 

Inside the room, he saw his daughter, no longer bleeding and dressed in white, sleeping and so very still; a different nightgown, one bloodied and torn, was tossed aside on the floor carelessly.

Fear overtook him as he ignored everyone and swam to her side. 

“My daughter,” Poseidon’s hands shook as he reached out to touch her.

“She lives, my love.” Amphitrite’s voice shook but her hand on his arm grounded him when everything else was crashing around him. 

“She’s so still.” Poseidon brushed her hair out of her face.

“She needs nectar and ambrosia when she wakes.” Apollo, the reason his daughter was so still and pained, said. 

Poseidon turned on him and was about to stab him with his trident when he saw the bundle in his nephew’s arms. 

“This,” Poseidon sneered at the baby, “is the reason the Fates themselves caused her labor to be so torturous?”

Apollo flinched.

“Father,” Rhodes placed a hand on her father’s arm. “We witnessed a new medical practice here today. Tales of this birth will spread far and wide; the knowledge that we gained today will save many future mothers and children.”

“Would you like to hold him, Uncle?” Apollo held out the baby.

Poseidon did not want to hold the baby but it would be a spit in his daughter’s face if he didn’t hold the child she carried with such loyalty.

It was so small.

So weak. 

It would not survive long in the ocean.

Yet it snuggled close to Poseidon as if he were worthy of the babe’s trust. 

He wanted to hate it for the pain it put his daughter through, for the turmoil it caused his children, and the citizens of his kingdom.

He wanted to hate it for making his wife’s voice quake.

But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t because it had the same vulnerability his sweet fountain child had, though she could walk and speak and this infant could do none of that. 

“How did she manage to give birth to him?” Poseidon asked. 

“Perseleia requested that she be cut open and the baby removed before she fainted from the stress.” Amphitrite spoke, soothing what anger was rising. 

“No. No.” Poseidon shook his head. 

“The cord was wrapped around his throat, Uncle.” Artemis said. “I had assisted many breech births before but this time, it was like my skills had vanished. Like I was not allowed to assist and help her.” 

Now his encounter with the Morai made sense; they blocked Artemis, just as they blocked Eileithyia and Hera, from her domain of childbirth and midwifery to use his daughter as a medical experiment.

“She is healed and expected to make a full recovery. She just needs to sleep.” Apollo said. 

“Because it was your actions that have hurt my daughter so, you will stay to ensure she makes a full recovery.” Poseidon ordered. 

“Yes, Uncle.” Apollo nodded, accepting his punishment with such ease it made Poseidon suspicious.

What Poseidon really wanted to do was to forbid Apollo from ever entering the sea again, to keep him far away from his precious and youngest riptide, but Perseleia was far too stubborn and too much like him for that to be worth it; for some reason, his daughter was fond of Apollo and treasured their friendship enough to carry his child for him. He didn’t understand it, but Poseidon would keep an eye on Apollo to make sure nothing else happened with his daughter. 

Apollo took his duties of nursing Perseleia back to health seriously.

Artemis helped where she could with Asclepius but the baby mostly wanted his father. 

He was right in the middle of telling Asclepius a vastly exaggerated story about how the Bird Race when a soft, hoarse voice interrupted him. 

“That’s not how I remembered it.” Perseleia was exhausted but she was finally awake.

“You’re awake!” Apollo kissed his son’s forehead and laid him in the giant oyster that was fashioned for Asclepius’ cradle. 

Apollo rushed to her side and helped her sit up enough.
“Drink. You’ve been asleep for a week.” Apollo lifted up a goblet of nectar to her lips. 

As she drank, he could feel the strength coming back to her. 

“You gave us all a scare.” Apollo said, setting the goblet aside once she finished. 

“Sorry about that.” Perseleia looked genuine. “Is Asclepius okay?”

Apollo had never heard her utter the name when Apollo threw out name suggestions before; she had only smiled knowingly and shook her head with a laugh.

“You knew.” He said. “You knew he would be named Asclepius. You knew he would have to be cut from the womb. You knew and you still carried him.” 

“I did.” Perseleia nodded.

“Why?”Apollo had to know. 

Why had she done this? Why, even knowing what was going to happen, would she allow it to happen? Artemis and Rhodes said this new procedure would save many lives but none of them were worth the pain and the fear he went through having to watch Loyalty bleed out and lose consciousness. 

“It was going to happen one way or the other.” She said. 

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“Why did you carry him?”

“Asclepius will be the greatest healer the world will ever see. He will surpass even you. He had to be born.”

That was not all there was; she was hiding something from him. 

“Why did you carry him?”

“Because you’re my friend, sunshine. Any more stupid questions?”

Apollo decided to let it go… for now. 

“Would you like to see him?” 

Perseleia nodded. 

Apollo returned to the cradle and saw Asclepius looking up at him, eyes wide and flickering between shades of blue.

He picked him up and returned to Perseleia’s side. 

He gently placed him in her arms and watched with bittersweet joy as Asclepius’ eyes shifted to sea green. 

“He’s perfect.” Perseleia said in awe. “You are one of my dearest friends and I love you but I am never doing this again.”

She looked so beautiful in the bioluminescent light of her room. Her curls floated in a dark cloud around her shoulders, swaying in the currents. Her eyes fixed only on Asclepius in her arms, bright and amazed at the infant trying to match the shade of hers. 

His tiny fingers wrapped around one of hers.

It pained Apollo that this wasn’t real; that she wasn’t his; that Asclepius wasn’t their son. That Perseleia did not want any children after this stung; his dreams of having little girls just like her were shattered but he understood. However, if she were to change her mind eventually, Apollo would be more than willing to be of service.

Asclepius started to cry and Perseleia just smiled fondly at him before revealing her breast.

Apollo quickly turned away; he didn’t want to be in more trouble with her father than he already was by adding “has seen the most perfect breast” to the ever growing lists of crimes he has committed. 

“You can turn around. I’m only feeding him and it’s a perfectly natural thing.” Perseleia said.

Cautiously, as if he were to be smote or turned into an animal and hunted for sport for seeing such a sacred sight, Apollo turned. 

“Now that he’s eating, tell me all I’ve missed?” Perseleia asked, patting the side of her bed with her free hand.

Apollo knew this wasn’t real. 

He knew Perseleia wasn’t his.

But he’d be damned if he let the stories tarnish his son by having him be remembered as Coronis’ child.

“Well, let’s see…” Apollo sat down beside her and allowed himself the torture of pretending this was real.

///
Percy understood her parents and godly siblings' fears about her ever since the birth, but this was just going to the surface. It wasn’t like she was going alone; Psamanthe, Galene, Eudora were accompanying her and Asclepius to where Proteus herded the seals. 

While Amphitrite’s sisters lounged on the rocky outcrop with the seals and Proteus, Percy stayed in the water. 

She laid on her back with Asclepius on her belly, so like her precious otters and their pups, and pointed up towards the sky. 

“Do you feel that?” Percy said to him. “That is the sun. Do you know who that is?”

Asclepius didn’t answer because he was a baby and she didn’t expect him to, but he did smile and reach for the sun. 

“That’s your father, Apollo.” Percy whispered like it was a big secret, causing Asclepius to giggle and make grabby motions towards the sun. “One day, he and Chiron will teach you how to be a healer.”

Percy probably imagined it, but the sun’s rays were softer, almost like a kiss against her skin. 

///

Athena’s head bobbed rhythmically from side to side as she studied the infant in her daughter’s arms. 

The infant stared back, with eyes that couldn’t decide if they were to stay her daughter’s sea green or turn silver like Athena’s. 

Athena cocked her head to the side.

This seemed to amuse the infant greatly as it burst into a fit of giggles. 

“I don’t understand what is so amusing.” Athena said to her daughter; the complexities of children baffled her.

“He’s just a baby. He laughs at everything. That’s what they do.” Her daughter also seemed to find Athena’s bewilderment amusing. 

“He is staring at me.” Athena righted her head.

The infant had another laughing fit. 

“Babies stare at people they think are beautiful.” Perseleia said. 

“You cannot be serious.” Athena said. 

That didn’t make any sense! How could an infant be a judge of beauty? They don’t have the logic or the reasoning to decide. 

“They do. Babies stare at attractive or beautiful people. I don’t know why, but that’s just a thing human babies do.” Perseleia said. 

This one has to be blind, Athena thought as she studied the infant in her daughter’s arms. She was not beautiful like Aphrodite, nor choose to stay eternally youthful like Artemis, nor did she have lovers fall to her feet like Demeter or the nymphs.

Athena was wisdom and cleverness and craftiness and war; she gave no thought to simple things such as beauty or lovers and so it was easy to ignore it. 

Her daughter’s eyebrow raised. 

“Do you not think you’re beautiful?” her daughter asked.

“I am a goddess. I am beautiful.” Athena said, not understanding the question.

“Yes, I know you’re beautiful, but my question is do you not think you are?” her daughter repeated the question. Her daughter then sighed and then asked another question, “do you think I’m beautiful?”

“Without a doubt. You are the most exquisite creature in existence.” Athena said. 

“Okay.” Her daughter furrowed her brows. 

Why? Did Athena answer wrong?

“So you can say that I’m beautiful, but that doesn’t do anything to make me believe I am beautiful. Does that make sense?”

What?

“Who insulted you so?” Athena demanded. 

“No, you’re missing the point.” Perseleia deflected. “I don’t think I’m beautiful because it doesn’t matter to me. There are more things more important to me than what I look like so I don’t really think about it. I can and will say you are beautiful, but just because you prioritize your independence and your cleverness and your skills doesn’t make you any less beautiful. You are, even if you don’t think about it.” 

Athena hummed. “I don’t follow but you have a well constructed argument.” 

“I will take it.” Perseleia muttered and held out Apollo’s spawn. “Want to hold him?”

“I don’t think-”

Perseleia placed the infant in her arms without waiting for an answer.

“I don’t do children.” Athena squawked. 

“Support his head.” 

Perseleia adjusted her hold and the baby had the nerve to smile up at her; the impertinence could only come from Apollo. 

“He likes you.” Perseleia said smugly. 

Athena felt very uncomfortable; he was so small, so mortal. What if she did something wrong and accidentally hurt him? Perseleia wasn’t this fragile as she was a goddess!

The baby curled into her chest and closed his eyes. 

“What’s he doing?” Athena asked; why did she feel like a hostage?

“He’s going down for a nap.” Perseleia said, greeting Athene and stroking her feathers. 

Athena had no idea why anyone would want to sleep in her arms. 

Aegis, her golden serpent, slithered down one of the pillars with its tongue smelling the new addition to the aerie. 

“Aegis, be careful,” Perseleia chided as she reached out and stroked the scales of his head. “Children of Apollo have an intense fear of serpents.” 

Aegis backed off a little under her words, but his curiosity quickly overtook any fear of reprimand as he stretched closer to look. 

Athena was prepared to interfere if anything were to happen but Aegis was simply curious of the infant and his tongue flicked in and out as he smelled the child, eventually licking the baby’s ears. Aegis did not act like he did with prey or his food and so Athena worried not. 

“How long are you going to care for him?” Athena asked, as Aegis slithered up on her shoulders and curled there. 

“Apollo will take him tomorrow and watch him with Leto and Artemis for a week so you and I can have some mother-daughter time.” 

THANK THE GODS!

“Oh, that would be lovely.” Athena said calmly. “I look forward to our time together.”

The following morning, after Asclepius went to stay with his father, Athena approached her daughter with something that had been on her mind for a while. 

“Dearest, in the time since you’ve received your wings, I have never actually seen you fly.” Athena said. “I have seen you wrap yourself in your cloak for warmth but that is it. Do you not like it?”

“I love it, it’s just…” Athena watched her daughter gaze up at the sky. “I don’t want to be struck down.”

“My father will not strike you down. Not while I’m around.” Athena promised and took her daughter’s hands. “You are the daughter of Athena, the granddaughter of Wise Metis, and you shall fly my little bird.” 

Athena was rewarded with a small smile from her daughter; she could brush her stark white curls out of her daughter’s face for a thousand years but she could never get used to seeing such scarring on her owlet.

Athena allowed her wings to come into existence; tawny and bespeckled wings much like her beloved owls flapped after being cooped up for so long. 

“Go and fetch your wings. It’s time you learn to fly.” Athena said. 

Percy’s heart pounded as she stood next to Athena at the edge of the aerie. 

“I can’t do this.” Percy shook her head. 

“Yes you can, I will be right behind you.” Athena said before she promptly pushed Percy off the side and into a very long fall. 

Percy screamed and foundered in the air as she fell. 

“Flap your wings!” Athena called out over the rush of the wind, her own wings tucked close so she dived alongside Percy. 

“I don’t know how!” Percy yelled at her. 

“Yes you do!” Athena nodded with encouragement. 

Percy tried to flap her arms because nothing was happening when she tried to use the cloak. 

“Not your arms, owlet!” Athena shouted. 

“I’M TRYING!” Percy screamed. 

Death by Annabeth’s mom… not how I wanted to go.

In her fumbling, Percy ended up falling on her back with the cloak folds fluttering past her arms. Desperately, Percy snatched the two edges in her hands and flipped over on her stomach again; her hands clenching the cloak tight to her body as she continued to fall. 

“You can do it!” Athena encouraged her. 

Before she could even think about it, Percy shot her hands out to the side and hoped for the best.

The cloak on her back was no longer a cloak.

The cloak had turned into two giant grey wings, albatross wings, and with them, Percy no longer fell. 

She flew.

With a whoop, Percy soared alongside Athena; testing out wing movements and seeing how they felt. 

She looked over at the goddess who became a third mother to her and grinned with excitement. 

“You’re doing it!” Athena looked proud. 

“WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!” Percy shrieked as she tilted her body and brought her wings in close for a rapid dive towards the waves of the Aegean. 

It felt glorious.

She felt incredible. 

She felt on top of the world. 

The only feeling that could come relatively close was when she wore the wings to escape Daedalus’ workshop in the Labyrinth on Annabeth’s quest; only these wings were not wax and would not melt no matter how close to the sun she flew and with the feathers from the albatross, they would not soak like a land bird’s. 

When she could see the individual currents and the fish, Percy straightened her body and spread her wings. 

The spray of the sea in her face was amazing and the way her feet would skim the surface…

Occasionally, a wing tip would meet a wave but never would they falter. 

She saw whales breaching for air and had a thought.

As she flew closer, she allowed her hand to drag in the water. 

No sooner after she did, she saw Amphitrite below the waves swimming to keep up. 

Amphitrite raised a hand, not quite breaking the surface.

Percy smiled and lowered her hand to mirror her mother’s.

Apollo asked the horses to be gentle today as he was carrying Asclepius with him and they seemed to like his son enough that they were not as wild as they usually were.

Asclepius seemed to enjoy riding in his father’s arms as he drove the sun. 

At least, he wasn’t crying anymore for Perseleia.

It had taken him hours to console him enough to calm down. 

For now, Asclepius was content to watch the horses and the clouds as Apollo drove; though Apollo couldn’t wait for his son to start speaking. What conversations would they have? When would he be interested in learning healing? When-

“Mahh! Mahh!” Asclepius reached his arms out to something. 

“Yes, yes. You are very intelligent.” 

“Mahhh!” Asclepius said again. 

“I quite agree, you are so right.” Apollo did not know what his son was saying but he hoped by speaking normally, Asclepius would learn to speak faster. 

“Mahhmaahh!” Asclepius giggled and it was then that Apollo turned his head to follow his son’s gaze. 

There she was, in all her glory: large grey wings of her birds kept her in flight as she dove in and above the clouds chasing after Athena. Her laughter and excitement could be heard from here now that he knew she was there.  

When she saw the chariot, he could see her grin and flap her wings so she could fly towards them. 

He blinked and she was right there and it was as if time stopped moving. The light from his sun was radiant as it kissed her skin. The wind had unbound her hair from any sort of bind. She looked as wild and as free and as untamable as her sacred birds. 

She smiled at him, or maybe Asclepius but Apollo would say she smiled at him, and then she was gone the next second in a dive towards the sea. 

“Mahmah! Mama!” Asclepius shrieked with laughter. 

“Yeah, sunshine. There’s mama.” Apollo’s heart was heavy with yearning, but if his child wanted to call the woman who carried him and raised him “mama” well, who was he to deny his son?

///

Asclepius was now three and Percy could hardly believe that time was flying by so quickly. He, like all demigods, followed her around camp like little ducklings.

“Miss Perse!” one of the younger children who couldn’t say her full name tugged on her skirts. “The horse is here again!” 

Percy looked towards the shore and sure enough, the black stallion that Percy knew to be her father was there waiting.

“Thank you, sweetling. You’ll tell Chiron and Apollo I’ll return shortly?” She asked. 

The son of Aphrodite nodded and ran off to do just that.

As Percy approached the shore, she could only shake her head in amusement. “You don’t have to wear a disguise, you know.” 

The stallion whinnied and stomped at the sand.

“All right, but just know, I think you’re being more dramatic than your brother.” Percy hoisted herself on the back of the horse and wrapped her fingers in his mane. 

Once he was sure that she wasn’t going to fall off, Poseidon began a gallop down the beach towards the herd of horses waiting for them; each stolen moment with her like this was just enough to tide the king and queen of the sea over until when they could have her beneath the waves once more.

///

Asclepius was progressing well in his studies under Chiron and Percy couldn’t be prouder. 

As she was making her way towards the amphitheater where Chiron was teaching the older teens and a handful of the Apollo children more gifted in healing, Percy felt her hackles rise. She could taste bloodlust, hear the warriors’ cry as they charged into battle, feel the ecstasy of victory. 

Percy clenched her fists at her side and turned to see Ares across the valley. 

What did he want?

Usually, whenever Percy couldn’t get out of events that required her to see him, Ares would wear the standard tunic of a soldier with his breastplates, helm, and greaves; not today. 

Today, Ares wore his golden armor meant for divine war.

Percy was in no mood to have her camp burned to ash when they inevitably fought, so she went to him. 

“Athenide.” Ares brandished his spear.

“Ares.” Percy tried to be diplomatic for the sake of the kids. “What brings you to camp?”

“I’m here on business.” 

“I see.” Percy said sarcastically. 

Ares brought out his sword. 

“All right, let’s get this over with.” Percy cracked her neck and brought out her own sword and spun it once in her grasp.

Ares brought his xiphos up in a defensive move before letting out a war cry and charging. 

Percy gritted her teeth as she also charged to meet him; swords clashed and the ring of celestial bronze rang throughout the hills, no doubt alerting everyone of the battle that was occurring. 

“Ares has strength, that’s all he has, but even strength has to bow to wisdom,” Annabeth once said.  

Where Ares focused all his weight behind his thrusts and swings, Percy was nimble and light as she darted in and out of reach.

“You fight well. Triton teach you a thing or two?” Ares goaded as he locked their blades together. 

“And Athena. And Artemis.” Percy said as she broke the lock and brought out a second blade; she kicked him in the shins and gut before darting out of the swing of the blade. “And Amphitrite.” 

Percy would admit that she had wanted to be a Jedi when she was younger, but being a demigod with a sword was pretty awesome too. 

Ares glared at her before nodding in respect. 

“Good. I have daughters. I want you to train them.” Ares turned and beckoned a few girls out from behind the trees to his side. “Melanippe, Hippolyta, Penthesilea, Antiope, and Orithyia.” 

“You want me to train your daughters? You could surely do that yourself.” Percy raised an eyebrow at Ares; she had never known him to be so… parental.

“I could train them to be warriors, yes. You, Areia, will train them to survive.” Ares said. 

“Monsters or men?” Percy asked. 

Ares nodded once before turning to the five girls, all with his dark hair and light brown eyes. 

“You be brave and you take care of each other. Hear?” Ares asked. 

The eldest, Hyppolyta stepped forward and nodded to her father. 

Ares took off his belt and gave it to Hyppolyta. 

“You’ll grow into it.” He promised and then vanished. 

Percy studied the future Amazon warriors and queens before her. 

No pressure or anything…

Chapter Text

Furious that Minos did not sacrifice the snow white bull as promised, Poseidon cursed Queen Pasiphaë to fall in love with the bull. Pasiphaë nursed her half man, half bull child but soon not even she could satisfy his hunger and the beast grew a taste for human flesh. After speaking with the Oracle of Delphi, Minos ordered Daedalus to construct a Labyrinth in hopes of keeping the monster contained. 

Every year, Athens sent a tribute of seven courageous youths and seven beautiful maidens to Crete in recompense for the assassination of Prince Androgeus and the lack of assassins King Aegeus could produce to the King Minos. The youths and maidens were then sent into the Labyrinth; every way out was a way in, every step up was really a step down, the screams of beast and human morphed into one until the only living thing remaining was a savage beast with a hunger for human flesh.

King Minos laughed at the cries to be spared when he paraded the fourteen children through his court and to the Labyrinth entrance because where was mercy when his son was killed?

Queen Pasiphaë turned her sun golden eyes to her drink and allowed the wine to quench her thirst; her little star had to eat.

The guards did not care for the pleas to open the door.

No one would dare enter the Labyrinth. 

Why would they want to when there was a beast that would suck their bones dry?

No one dared.

Except one.

Light footed and nimble as she could see through the traps and tricks of the Labyrinth, she, other than the Minotaur, was the only one who could safely enter the Labyrinth and leave alive. 

Just as she came to the part of the maze where you could oversee the cage below, she knelt on the stone floor and brought out the dead rabbit she had been gifted by her friend Icarus from one of his hunts.

“It’s me, I’m here!” The girl called out into the darkness.

Smelling the blood, the Minotaur stepped out of the shadows. 

“It’s all right, I’ve got food. Come close.” She held out the rabbit.

The Minotaur snorted and came closer still. 

“Do you remember me, Asterion?” The girl let the rabbit fall from her hand and into the open jaws of the monster. “I’m Ariadne. I’m your sister.” 

Asterion shook his head and ripped the rabbit apart as he gobbled down the meager feast. 

“I’ll come see you soon, I promise! I’ll tell you all about the sky and the sea and the birds in the air.” Ariadne promised, “but I cannot stay long tonight.” 

Her brother bellowed in anger and fear as he kicked and pounded his fists against the stone. 

Ariadne flinched back, her feet shuffling back until her back was pressed against a stone wall behind her. 

He roared and snarled and thrashed in the stone walls he was held in until it was time for the Athenian tribute to be released for sport.

Ariadne pitied her brother. They were more alike than men and kings would realize; they were both trapped in cages but while Asterion’s was stone and darkness, Ariadne’s was gilded.

///

Theseus grew up never knowing his father; his mother would always be sad about the topic and never answer. 

Always “when you’re old enough,” or “not yet, please, not yet.” 

As a child, Theseus would allow his mother her secrets but when he turned seventeen, it was at a sacrifice of a bull to Poseidon that he noticed his mother weeping. 

“Why do you cry for the bull?” Theseus asked. 

“I do not cry for the bull. I cry because of a rock and pine trees and should you discover what’s underneath the rock, you’ll leave me.” Aethra confessed. 

“Leave you? Never.” Theseus promised his mother.

Satisfied with his promise, Aethra took Theseus to the boulder that covered the belongings of the man who whispered “forever” in her ears. 

“It’s ginormous.” Theseus searched around the boulder for a way to move it but found none.

“When you can move the rock, then you can learn about your father.” Aethra promised. 

Theseus strained as he pushed the boulder but he could not move it. 

“Why do you smile, mother?” Theseus asked. 

“Because you can stay with me one more summer.” Aethra said. “Promise me that you will not attempt to move the boulder until next summer? Please?”

“I promise, mother.” Theseus promised. 

Satisfied, Aethra felt at peace.

Theseus broke his promise to his mother. 

He would spend days sweating under the sun trying to push the rock but it never moved.

His mother would ask where he spent his days but he would always answer with a lie: “I was training in the forest” or “I was enjoying the sun.” 

“You haven’t been trying to move the rock?” Aethra checked. 

“No, I haven’t. I promised you, didn’t I?” Theseus lied. 

“I know, I just worry.” Aethra said.

Theseus went out again and again to push the boulder until one day when it finally gave way.

Theseus found a hole and inside was a pair of sandals, a xiphos with a golden owl on the handle, and a sea shell. 

Theseus grabbed the items and brought it to his mother who wept at Theseus’ broken promise.

“Who is my father?” Theseus asked. 

“Poseidon and Aegeus.” Aethra said through her tears. “You have two fathers. Aegeus left the sword and sandals for his child to prove themself to him. Poseidon left the shell should you ever need to enter his halls for aid.” 

“I must go! I have to meet him!” Theseus kicked off his own sandals and put on his father’s. 

“If you must leave me, then go by sea to Athens. Your godly father will protect you on your journey. Do not take the road because you will be faced with many dangers!” Aethra grabbed her son’s arm and begged him. 

“I’ll take the sea route, I promise.” Theseus said.

But he did not take the route of the sea. 

No, Theseus took the road that went along six doors to the Underworld that was guarded by six fierce and monstrous guardians. 

The first he encountered was Epidaurus the Club Bearer whom Theseus killed with his own club. 

The second he encountered was Sinus the pine tree bender whom Theseus killed by tying him to two pine trees and letting the bent trees rip his body apart when they snapped upright. Sinus had a daughter named Perigune who witnessed the whole encounter and hid herself among a bed of thrushes and asparagus to flee from Theseus but he found her anyway. After Theseus forced himself upon her, he promised her that when he was King of Athens, he would return to marry her. 

He never did. 

She bore a son named Melanippus who never knew his father. 

The third he encountered was the Crommyonian Sow. 

The fourth he encountered was Sciron who Theseus tricked and pushed off a cliff where Sciron was then eaten by his own turtle. 

The fifth he encountered was the wrestler Cercyon who Theseus beat in a match and then killed upon his victory. 

The sixth and final encounter was Procrustes the stretcher who Theseus tricked into getting into his bed and then once he was tied down, Theseus cut off his feet and his head. 

After the week on the road, Theseus came across the haven that the Mother of Demigods had for half gods like him; though he hadn’t come in time to see her off to the sea, her foster son Dionysus was there to welcome him in and offer him food and rest before he continued his journey to Athens. 

That night, Theseus whispered promises into Hippolyta’s ear about how he would make her his queen once he became King of Athens. How he would make their sons princes and give him all that Theseus was denied. 

He was so charming that Hyppolyta fell into his arms and into his bed. 

Theseus was gone before she woke up and he would never see her again in her lifetime. 

///

The Minotaur roared into the darkness that was his prison. 

“Shhh, it’s all right.” Ariadne, now sixteen, knelt down on the stone floor. “I’m here. It’s just a dream.” 

The minotaur growled still but it became soothed under his sister’s soft voice. 

“Shall I tell you of the world outside? About the sun? The color of the sky? The sea?” Ariadne, emboldened by the calm minotaur shifted so she was on the grate above. “People say the sky is blue but it’s not. Not entirely. Sometimes, a thousand colors at once. Pinks, greys, the color of gold, the color of mother’s wine. The most beautiful time of day is when the sun sets. The stories and the priests say that Loyalty loves sunsets so Apollo makes sure to paint the skies extra extravagant for her. The way the sunlight shimmers on the water, it’s like a thousand sparkling coins, but he can never pursue his love for her, nor shall she ever choose a husband to wed.”

The minotaur came under the grate to better hear his sister. 

“And there are people out there.” Ariadne continued. “Families. I am Pasiphaë’s daughter. I am a sister. You are Pasiphaë’s son. You are my brother.”

The minotaur bucked up so his horns went through the grate.

Ariadne jumped back onto the stone to avoid being skewered. 

The minotaur bucked again and again once he didn’t smell the sweet aroma of blood. 

Ariadne fled back into the shadows and the twists and turns of the Labyrinth once more. 

///

Percy stood before Hyppolyta and stared in shock at the young girl in tears. 

“I’m sorry! He was just so charming and he promised to marry me and I-” Hyppolyta wept bitterly.

Percy pulled the girl she helped raise into a hug; gods knew she needed it, and raged silently at Theseus.

“I don’t know what to do!” Hyppolyta wept into her shoulder. 

“That’s okay. For now, cry and you’ll feel better.” Percy assured her. 

“But I’m still pregnant!” Hyppolyta shuddered in Percy’s arms, soaking her white peplos with her tears. 

“Yes, but you won’t be alone.” Percy promised. 

“Are you angry with me?” 

“With you? Never.” Percy promised her. “That half brother of mine, he shall have my rage.” 

///

As Theseus was welcomed into Athens and claimed as the son of Aegeus, Medea fled with her sons and spat a curse upon Theseus and his father.

“Before a year is out, grief shall plague you both!” Medea’s curse echoed throughout the palace, the streets, and the rocks of Athens.

It wasn’t sorrowful at first, no. 

No, it was wonderful. 

The King now was so, so happy to at once be reunited with his son but soon it was time for the sons and daughters of Athens to once again be sacrificed to Crete as blood payment for the death of the Cretian Prince.

Theseus took off his mourning himation and traded it for the white himation of one of the youths; Theseus took his place and broke his father’s heart as he did so with the promise of slaying the Minotaur.

“Raise your heads, sons and daughters of Athens! Lift your hearts for we will return to our homeland’s shores!” Theseus raised his father’s sword and ordered the sailors to cast off. 

“Do not return under the black sail! If you make it home safe, hoist a white sail!” Aegeus begged his son. 

One of the dock workers tossed a white sail onto the ship for Theseus. 

“I shall watch from the cliffs every day!” Aegeus called out. 

“The white sail! I shall sail home, father! I promise!” Theseus called back. 

“The white sail!” Aegeus called once more.

“I promise!” Theseus cried upon the winds back to his father’s ears. 

Aegeus watched as the ship carrying his son took him further and further away until he could see it no more. 

///

Ariadne didn’t know if her father was proud of her or if placing her in charge of the Athenian sacrifices was a form of psychological punishment; her only consolation was that Daedalus, the builder of such horrors, and his son Icarus, perhaps the only friend and confidant Ariadne had, were there as punishment for some slight or another, most likely a display of power, to observe the fourteen new souls who would not find peace in Hades.

The guards brought forth the sons and daughters from Athens but there was one, an older, almost a man, stood defiant as the others knelt before her. 

He was handsome; dark wind swept hair pinned up with a headband and piercing sea green eyes lined with kohl bore into hers. He had the air of a prince about him or possibly the arrogance of one who believed them to survive the Labyrinth. 

Ariadne left her place in between Daedalus and Icarus and stopped before him. 

He was a head taller than her, maybe more, and he had more muscle than the other youths with him; either from hard work in the fields or training with guards.

“Kneel, Athenian.” Ariadne said. 

“Who am I kneeling to?” His voice was charming and Ariadne would be sad to never hear it again should he die. 

“Ariadne, daughter of King Minos and Queen Pasiphaë, princess of Crete.” Ariadne said but the youth did not kneel still. 

The guards surged forward to force him to kneel but Ariadne held a hand up and they paused. 

“If I said, “Athenian, I implore you, please kneel before me” would you do it?” Ariadne asked. 

“How could I refuse?” He said, kneeling but keeping his green eyes locked on hers. 

Ariadne felt her heart quicken. 

She also heard Icarus cough to cover up a scoff. 

As he knelt, Ariadne caught sight of the sword that was revealed when his himation shifted. 

He didn’t stop her as she pulled the sword out and examined it; a xiphos blade with an owl engraved where the handle met the blade. This was no blade of a peasant. 

Ariadne held the tip of the blade to his throat.

“Who are you?” Ariadne asked. 

“Theseus. Son of Aegeus of Athens and Poseidon of the sea.” He said, eyes so like the sea flashing with defiance as he spoke. 

“You’re the son of the King? Why do you go to the minotaur as a sacrifice? You cannot possibly believe that you could kill it.” Why, after spending so long in Minos’ house and learning to keep her emotions to herself, was this man unraveling them so easily.

“I’d believe I am a fool,” Theseus stated. 

“I think so too.” Ariadne said; no sane man, son of a god or otherwise would thing they stood a chance against the Minotaur.

“For giving you a civil answer.” Theseus smirked at her. 

Ariadne smacked Theseus’ cheek, sending him to the floor. 

“Take them away! All enemies of my father shall die in the Labyrinth!” Ariadne yelled at the guards. 

As the guards surged forward to take the Athenians away, when no one but her mentor and friend were looking, she slipped a key hidden underneath her bracelets into Theseus’ hands. 

She stared at his confused look until they were all gone. 

“Do you think he’s the one?” Icarus murmured.

“The prophecy said something about the son of Poseidon.” Ariadne whispered back. 

“But two fathers?”

“Perhaps the god claims him, perhaps the king. The boy certainly takes on an appearance like my Loyal sister.” Daedalus said lowly.

Ariadne’s eyes stayed upon the doorway where Theseus was taken away; if he bore a resemblance to the goddess of loyalty, then surely he must be the hero meant to slay the beast.

Ariadne waited until the palace was asleep before she crept down to the prison cells  through the secret passages only Daedalus and Icarus knew about. 

The Athenians that slept were restless. 

The Athenians that didn’t sleep prayed to Zeus, to Athena, to anyone with mercy to hear their prayers and save them.

Theseus did neither.

Ariadne snuck him out of the cell and to the doors of the Labyrinth.

“Once you enter, my mother’s magic will cause the corridors to shift behind you. Use this spindle of yarn to prevent that from happening; they will not shift if there is something inside. Go forwards and always down should you ever be in doubt of where to go. At the very heart of the maze, you will find the Minotaur.” Ariadne placed his sword and her yarn into his hands. 

“Why do you do this for me?” Theseus asked.

Because her father was always angry.

Because her mother hid behind an ever full goblet of wine.

Because her sisters and brothers were raised on threats that should they ever disappoint Minos, he’d throw them into the Labyrinth for the beast himself.

Because her sisters deserved husbands that did not mock them and question if they will bear monsters as well. 

Because her mother could not bear to have another child after Asterion.

“The curse upon Athens is also a curse upon Crete.” Ariadne said, her lip trembling slightly. 

“Not because of the way you look at me?” Theseus asked. 

“How do I look at you?” Ariadne scrunched her nose and eyebrows in confusion.

“Like this.” Theseus gently stroked her cheek and Ariadne felt her knees weaken. “And this.” He traced the curve of her jaw on the other side of her face. “I shall kill the minotaur, Princess Ariadne of Crete.”

Not wanting to let the opportunity pass, Ariadne made her request. 

“Promise me one thing: promise me if you return, you will take me and my younger sister with you when you leave these shores and grant us political asylum in Athens.” Ariadne asked; Icarus and Daedalus would be fine in the wake of her father’s rage, they were already building wings inspired by Daedalus’ sister to escape.

“I promise.” Theseus nodded with a trouble maker grin and entered the darkness of the Labyrinth.

Theseus froze once he made it to the center of the Labyrinth. 

There was no Minotaur in the center, only bones.

He could hear his own heartbeat quicken as he accidentally stepped on a skull; the cracks echoing through the maze.

Until he heard the subtle shift of sand behind him and Theseus darted to the side just as the monster charged forward. The monster was bigger than anything he had ever seen, bigger than even Procrustes and unlike Theseus, it knew the Labyrinth much better than Theseus did. 

It was maddening. 

It was wild. 

It was hungry for blood. 

Eventually, Theseus was able to stab it in the side between the ribs. 

The creature let out a gods awful roar as it writhed on the floor of the Labyrinth; the grunts of a bull slowly morphing into a child’s cry, pleading for its mother, its sister, anyone to save it from the pain and the monster in the dark. 

Theseus stood above the Minotaur with his sword raised, he was about to bring the sword down upon its neck when-

“No!” Ariadne wept behind him. “No, don't! Don’t kill him!” 

Theseus turned to demand why Ariadne would want him to stay his hand when he saw her; tears streaming down her cheeks, arms wrapped around herself as she shuddered, her sandaled feet dragged like she was chained as she made her way towards the monster. 

“He’s my brother!” Ariadne sobbed, kneeling down to cradle the bull head of her brother in her arms; the pitiful moos only caused her to sob harder. 

Theseus frowned at Ariadne’s confession; Ariadne could not be allowed to make it to Athens.

“Move. Move aside!” Theseus knocked her aside; ignoring her cries, he raised his sword once more.

The Labyrinth was silent and no more did the Minotaur make noise.

Within the hour, the Cretan ships burned as the Athenian ship sailed towards the open sea, carrying Ariadne and her younger sister Phaedra with her. 

Ariadne, once believing Theseus to hold her in warmth and love (anything that wasn’t anger or shouting had to be love, right?), but now she saw the signs of his heart growing cold with the impending fame of killing Crete’s Minotaur. 

Ariadne was forced to gaze upon Asterion’s bloody head wrapped in the white sail while Phaedra clung to her and her eyes reflected the burning of their father’s fleet; they could never return, Minos would kill them. Nor would he send out armies to retrieve them, they were only daughters and what were his daughters to his remaining sons?

After an entire day of sailing, they pulled into the soft shores of Naxos. 

The Athenians and their Prince danced in victory as Phaedra slept and Ariadne laid awake in fear; watching the man who would be her husband danced with other maidens, flashing them a smile Ariadne thought was only for her.

Theseus promised her she would be his queen. 

He promised. 

Ariadne held onto that promise as she waited for her new husband to join her. 

Eventually, when the wine was drunk, the fire had died, and he could dance no more, Theseus joined her. 

He promised her anything and everything; unintentionally making the same promises his father made to his mother. 

The promises that were broken then, were broken now.

Ariadne awoke to an empty bed; her sister, only ten summers old, was gone. 

So were the Athenians. 

So was Theseus. 

Ariadne ran through the ashes of the feast, running through the footsteps of the dancing into the sea.

There, on the horizon, nearly faded into the sun, was the ship with black sails, carrying her younger sister and the man who promised to be her husband. 

“THESEUS! SON OF AEGEUS!” Ariadne screamed into the horizon. “YOU BREAKER OF PROMISES!” 

The waters lapped at her ankles and her skirts. 

“BETRAYER!” Ariadne screamed. “From the palace of my father, you lured me! My brother’s blood is on my hands, faithless one!”

Ariadne raised her hands towards the heavens as she cried out. 

“You carry Asterion’s head with you but also my poor sister and my heart! My wretched heart!” Ariadne ventured further into the sea, now the waters up to her knees and under the light of Apollo’s sun, a light blue green, not the deep sea green of the betrayer. “You have abandoned me on this shore with no way back and no way forward! I curse you! I curse you! I curse you!” 

Ariadne shook as she sobbed. 

“I curse your birth! I curse what love I bore for you! Athenide, Lady of Loyalty, hear my cries! See my tears! Let the sea swallow him! Let his people turn on him! Let them know that Theseus is a breaker of oaths and promises!” Ariadne felt red hot rage as the waves stilled around her, the sun bore down on her. “HE ABANDONED ME!”

When Ariadne gave her final curse, she made her way back to the shore and wept bitterly. 

Minutes or hours later, Ariadne smelt the sweet aroma of her mother’s wine.

She knew her mother was a goddess of sorcery and witchcraft but surely Pasiphaë did not care enough about Ariadne, a betrayer of her family, to come and fetch her back to face her father’s wrath. 

“Why so sad, Princess?” The voice was not her mother’s. 

Ariadne wiped her eyes and looked up to see the most beautiful man, eyes as rich as violets, wrapped in robes as rich as wine. A wreath of ivy leaves were on his dark curls and in his hand was a staff with a pine cone atop. There was a leopard at his feet, curled up and docile like a tamed cat. 

“I betrayed my family. I caused my brother’s death. The man who promised to marry me has abandoned me on this isle yet has taken my young sister with him. I weep for many things.” Ariadne sniffed. 

“Theseus shed the blood of your brother, you did not hold the sword that slayed the Minotaur. You, Ariadne, were the savior of the Athenians; your thread saved their lives and they never would have survived unless you chose to help.” The stranger said. 

“It will never be remembered as such.” Ariadne stared at the sea in despair. 

“Eventually, perhaps in a kind future. But take heart, Princess Ariadne, your prayers have been heard. My mother does not take kindly to betrayers or oath breakers and she will be certainly glad to hear you have escaped such a man as merciless as Theseus.” 

Ariadne felt her heart stop as she realized who this was: Dionysus, god of wine, of madness, of fertility, of theater. Dionysus, adopted son of Loyalty.

“I know promises mean nothing to you after your betrayal and abandonment, but you have my word, upon my mother who raised me, that I will marry you and raise you up as my wife if you will have me.” Dionysus knelt beside her and offered his hand. 

Ariadne’s brown eyes met his violet eyes and she feared him to be a liar like Theseus, a manipulator like her father, but he was kind. 

Ariadne nodded and took his hand.

///

Theseus was crowned King of Athens after the funeral for Aegeus. 

His crown was placed upon his head and people clapped but Theseus was not happy.

The throne next to him was empty.

Advisers were already pestering him to choose a bride and a queen.

Theseus looked over to where Phaedra was following around the ladies of court like a lost duckling; she was twelve summers now, hardly worth marrying but in a few years?

Theseus thought back to Hyppolyta; she was beautiful enough and had seemed to desire him when he was a peasant, shouldn’t she desire him now he was a King? No, one of the news reports from the morning was of how for his ninth labor, Heracles had gone to her for her belt and killed her for it.

Theseus had sneered at the report when the herald said Hyppolyta left behind a son.

That… if the son was his, then that was already an heir to the throne. 

Theseus just had to retrieve his son and if he happened to kidnap one of Hippolyta’s sisters to be his new queen, then that was taken care of as well.

“My poor sister was left at the mercy of wild beasts as was the will of the gods.” Phaedra recited the lie he told her when he stole her away in the might while Ariadne slept; the girl was so gullible, it was almost laughable. 

“Such is the will of gods when one betrays their family and their blood.” Theseus declared to his throne room and smirked when people nodded along. 

He didn’t care to think about Ariadne. 

When he did, he prayed the sea had killed her or the wild animals had eaten her.

///

Ariadne stood before gods and their children and most importantly, before the man who Ariadne would call her husband. 

She wore a vibrant, multilayered blue skirt with golden pleats gifted to her for this occasion by Loyalty herself. She wore a bodice of intricate detail with labyrinthine designs stitched lovingly by Athena. Her golden belt was a gift to her from Aphrodite. Her earrings and bracelets and bangles were delicately forged and a wedding gift from Hephaestus. 

Hera, Queen of the Gods and goddess of marriage, together with Perseleia, goddess of loyalty, and Aphrodite, goddess of love, bound Ariadne and Dionysus together in marriage, blessing them from today until the end of all days. 

As Dionysus kissed her, Ariadne smiled as her heart slowed; Dionysus was her home, her safety, her love; there was no need to fear him, no need to be wary like him.  

“Now, Ariadne, eat this Golden Apple, and be welcome into our family.” Perseleia held out one of Hera’s Golden Apples of immortality to her. 

With Dionysus’ encouragement, Ariadne bit into the apple. 

Words could not describe the taste or texture of the apple, only that it was the best thing Ariadne had ever tasted in her life. She felt different; warmer, more powerful, more… more than human. 

“Welcome Ariadne, Mistress of the Labyrinth, goddess of spinning, of mazes and labyrinths and puzzles, wife of Dionysus.” Hera proclaimed. 

“I have a gift for you; my brothers helped me fashion and forge it, but I hope it is to your liking, Λατρεία μου.” Dionysus turned to his brothers for his gift and when he turned back to Ariadne, he held the most beautiful crown in his hands. “This crown is yours; forged of seven stars, ever eternal, ever shining, just like my love and my loyalty to you, and if I should ever find myself separated from you, know that I will do whatever it takes to find my way back to you.” 

Dionysus placed the heavenly crown upon Ariadne’s curls and basked in the glory of her happiness. 

“I understand now,” Ariadne said as she and her husband danced their wedding dance. “I understand now that his lies were my gain.” 

“And what a wonderful husband you have.” Dionysus teased her and pulled her into a kiss. 

“What a wonderful mother I have won by marrying you!” Ariadne teased him back and shrieked with laughter as Dionysus ceased his dancing to pepper her face with kisses.

As Dionysus and Ariadne embraced each other, his shining brother Apollo had his eyes upon another; Perseleia was dancing with some of the younger demigods as they celebrated. Apollo’s heart ached knowing that the day he would marry her would be far in the future.

Chapter Text

For his ninth labor, Heracles was sent out to retrieve the belt of the Amazonian Queen Hippolyta.

Percy was furious when she entered the sea and bent the currents to her will to take her to Atlantis as fast as possible. 

The creatures of the sea did not know why she was so angered, but they were concerned for her; she had never failed to say hello to each one upon her return before…

In previous years, Percy would enter the palace from one of the minor entrances but not today. 

Today, Percy intended to enter through the front gates, follow the line of petitioners to the throne room and await her turn to speak her request to Poseidon in a court of law. The line was so long; good, it would allow Percy to simmer down before she spoke to her father. 

She was friendly to her subjects that waited in line and refused to move forward when they insisted on giving up their spot. 

“No, you deserve your plea spoken first. I shall wait my turn.” Percy spoke to a young merchild. “Perhaps the wait will allow me time to better construct my own plea.” 

By the time Percy had made it into her father’s court, everyone from the merfolk in the armies to the cyclops in the forges to the smallest octopus was curious and awaited to hear what the darling of the sea would petition from the sea king. 

Rumors began to fly: some spoke of a betrothal, some spoke of a desire to remain unwed.

Poseidon straightened up when he saw his daughter step forward. 

Amphitrite let out a soft whistle at the sight of her daughter. 

Percy could see her sisters and Triton standing at the periphery of the room, no doubt wondering what she would ask father for. 

“Κλεοπάτρα, my Perseleia. What joy it brings the sea to have you back.” Poseidon welcomed her with open arms. “Come forward, my precious, and tell me what you desire.” 

Percy frowned at her father, crossed her arms, and did not move from her spot from the line of petitioners. 

“I want you to disown Theseus of Troezen as your son. From this day forth, I want him to only be known as Aegeus’ son.” Percy said; she mentally congratulated herself on not demanding it or calling him names or swearing like she had originally drafted.

Poseidon looked surprised. 

Amphitrite turned to look at Poseidon with a raised eyebrow and then back to her daughter. 

“My darling, could you please explain why you want your father to disown the hero who slayed the Minotaur of Crete?” Amphitrite asked. 

Percy prepared for this; what was one demigod son against Poseidon’s favorite child?

And if there was one thing she learned about gods, it was that they did not play fair.

“Theseus dishonors me.” Percy said. 

The entire assembly gasped in shock. 

“Theseus broke his oath not to move the rock to his mother. Theseus made a promise to the girl he raped to marry her and make her his wife; he has fathered a son and has not claimed the child nor made Perigune his wife. After becoming a guest of my sacred camp, he lured one of my girls into his bed with the promise of marriage and left her alone to carry his son; again, not keeping his promise of marriage. He broke his oath to Aegeus to hoist the white sail, leading to the King’s death. He abandoned my guest, Ariadne, on Naxos to die after she bravely saved the Athenians from sacrifice and requested only political asylum for her and her young sister in repayment.” Percy listed her reasons. 

Poseidon’s smile fell as his daughter went on. 

“He is faithless and with each broken promise, it brings upon such agony to bear. He is not worth your glory nor deserving of the honor to call you his father.” Percy stoked her father’s ego before she knelt down before him; another round of gasps left the onlooker’s mouths as their princess knelt before Poseidon. “Please, father.”

Poseidon’s face betrayed no emotion though his grip on the trident betrayed him with white knuckles. 

“To hear my precious riptide suffer so…” Poseidon took a deep breath to gather his thoughts; the entire sea was silent as it waited for the King’s decision. “Theseus is no longer a son of the sea. He forfeits all rights and privileges as a son of mine from this day forth. I claim him no longer.” 

Holy schist, that worked. 

“Thank you, father.” Percy bowed her head in relief. 

///

Heracles last heard that the daughter of Ares, Hyppolyta was under the care of Lady Perseleia but upon reaching eighteen, she and her sisters had struck out on their own, building themselves a roaming kingdom of warrior women named the Amazons with Hyppolyta herself as the Queen. 

He had tracked the warriors across Greece to find the Queen and explain his Labors but upon reaching their last known site, the city of Xanthi, Heracles was told that half the women had left to the East and the others had left to the West. 

“Where does Hyppolyta, Queen of the Amazons, ride?” Heracles asked.

“She rides East, towards Troy.” 

Heracles booked passage on a ship and sailed to Troy despite the arguments and the pleas to reconsider his choice; “Poseidon had unleashed a monster upon the city” they cried, “Apollo cursed the city with plagues” they said. 

Heracles shrugged and restated his desire to go to Troy.

Heracles looked upon the stone walls of Troy and marveled at the grandeur of Poseidon’s labors.

Telamon and Oicles were beside him as he offered his services to King Laomedon to kill the beast. 

“What are you to do about the beast?” Heracles asked the king. 

“I am going to sacrifice my daughter Hesione in hopes Poseidon finds her acceptable and calls off the monster.” King Laomedon said; his daughter, pale at the decree, bowed her head in acceptance.

“I will kill the monster in exchange for the horses you received from my father as compensation for the loss of your son Ganymede.” Heracles offered. 

“Deal.” King Laomedon agreed. 

Together with Telamon and Oicles, Heracles slayed the monster his uncle had sent and returned to the king to claim their payment. 

“We have slayed the Trojan monster and now are here for the horses that were promised.” Heracles declared to the guards and ordered them to take them to the king once more.

“King Laomedon does not recall agreeing to such terms.” One of the Trojan princes called from atop the stairs to the palace. 

Heracles looked to his left, raised an eyebrow at Telamon who nodded in turn, then to his right at Oicles who agreed. 

Afterall, what were mortals to heroes or a half god?

Guards were slain, the princes present had their throats slit in front of the King for his deceit. 

Heracles was about to draw his knife across the neck of the last prince, a young boy really, when Hesione slipped past the guards. 

“Stop!” The princess cried. 

The three heroes did as she asked. 

Hesione waded through her brother’s blood, her head held high as she walked past her father cowering behind his throne. 

“Please release my brother.” Hesione requested. 

“And what do we get in repayment?” Heracles asked. 

“The horses, as promised. And this,” Hesione took off her golden veil, allowing her dark hair to be seen by all, and held it out for Telamon to take. “You have my word that none shall stop you.”

“Your father’s word means nothing. Why should we trust you?” Heracles asked. 

“Because I am not my father.” Hesione said.

The boy trembled in Heracles grasp as he decided what to do. 

“No, you are not.” Heracles agreed. “Telamon.” 

Telamon took Hesione’s veil and stained her arm with his bloody hand. 

Heracles released the boy who scrambled away to his mother’s arms.

“Take good care of that boy, Laomedon. It would be a shame if Priam were to be killed for your lack of honor.” Heracles mocked the little prince.

Hesione led the three to the stables where no one stood in their way as they rounded up the horses. 

“Why have you come to Troy’s shores?” Hesione asked, riding behind Telamon, who claimed her as his bride. 

“To seek Queen Hyppolyta. I need to complete a task that involves her in order to be cleansed from my crimes.” Heracles said.

“Then you should return to Greece. The Queen and her band head that way after recruiting many girls to their numbers.” Hesione said. 

“Of course.” Heracles mumbled.

They rode day and night until one night, they came across a camp.

“Who goes there?” A woman dressed in armor called out. 

“Heracles, son of Zeus and his companions. Is this the Amazon camp?” Heracles asked. 

“It is. Come, and be welcome under the hospitality of Queen Hyppolyta.” The Amazon brought them to the Queen while another took the horses to give them food and rest. 

Hyppolyta regarded them with curiosity. 

“Heracles, welcome to my camp. You may find rest here.” Hyppolyta welcomed them in. 

As they ate with the Queen and half of her sisters, they exchanged stories. 

“Hera cursed me with madness and I lost my Megara to my own hands. I have to complete tasks for Eurythesus in order to be cleansed of my crime. I have already slayed the Nemean Lion, the Stymphalian Birds, and the Hydra. I have captured the Golden Hind of Artemis, the Cretan Bull, and the Erymanthian Boar. I cleaned out the Augean stables. And I have stolen the Mares of Diomedes as my eighth labor. For my ninth, Queen Hyppolyta, I was told to seek you out and to bring back your belt. I shall return it to you as soon as it is complete. I know it is a gift from your father, Ares.” Heracles finished his story.

Hyppolyta sipped her wine. 

“I see. If that’s all you need to do for your ninth labor, I see no reason why I should not help you. First, you have traveled far. Eat. Rest. Tomorrow I shall see you off.” She declared. 

“Thank you, Queen of the Amazons.” Heracles said. 

“It is no big deal. I’d offer to escort you there to Eurysthemus myself but I have been away from my son for too long.” Hyppolyta said wistfully.

“You have a son? I thought the Amazons did not like men?” Hesione said.

“We choose an unmarried, unbound life of freedom. We are not like Lady Artemis and her chaste Hunt. If we choose too, we will seek out male company but men have no place in my kingdom. When Hyppolytus is old enough, he will understand why I cannot bear to look upon his face; I love him so, but every time I look upon him, I see only Theseus.” Hyppolyta sighed. “Perseleia has graciously agreed to accept him in her haven even though he is not the son of a god when he is old enough. Right now, he is with my sister Antiope and some of the younger Amazons seeking recruitment in Greece.” 

“Theseus? Son of Poseidon?” Heracles asked. 

“Son of Aegeus. Poseidon has disowned him at the request of his beloved daughter.” Hyppolyta grinned ferociously. “Bastard had it coming.”

The next morning, Hyppolyta had personally helped Heracles and his companions pack up. 

“You swear upon the River Styx and Lady of Oaths to return my belt?” Hyppolyta asked. 

“I-” Heracles was cut off as a war cry was let out. 

Hyppolyta’s eyes widened. “They should not be attacking!” 

Heracles was furious.

“What trickery is this?!” He roared at her, taking Hyppolyta’s neck in his fist.

“No!” A woman shouted as she charged Heracles. 

“Aella- don’t-” Hyppolyta choked.

The Amazon, Aella was crushed under Heracles’ club while Hyppolyta’s throat was crushed. 

From her still warm body, Heracles ripped the belt from her waist. 

He leaped upon his horse and kicked it, leading the others away while the Amazon’s were distracted with their dead Queen.

Hera was not one to be Percy’s go to person to be cranky and vent, but Hera was the only other person Percy could speak openly about how much she hated Heracles. Granted their reasons were different; Hera, because he was another one of Zeus’ bastards and Percy, because of what he did/will do to Zoë but Percy couldn’t vent about it because it hasn’t happened yet.

But one thing Heracles did that Percy could go and bitch about to Hera: he killed Hyppolyta, the girl she raised.

“Hera!” Percy entered the Queen’s temple and bypassed the many peacocks and lions as she searched for the goddess. 

“What brings my niece to my temple? The last time you were here, I was suspended above Chaos and you were thrown into Tartarus so forgive me if I am not excited to see you.” Hera said lazily as she lounged on her chaise. 

“You are the only person I can talk about this with.” Percy said, crossing her arms. 

“How unfortunate.” Hera drolled. 

“Agreed, but you are the only one who understands.” 

“Do I even want to know?” Hera said, exasperated; bringing her wine to her lips.

“I hate Heracles.” Percy said. 

Hera choked on her wine. 

After her coughing fit, Hera looked up at Percy as if she had changed shape or lost her mind. 

“Repeat that?” Hera gasped. 

“I hate Heracles. I hate him. He killed Hyppolyta, your granddaughter by Ares, the girl I trained and raised. I hate him so much.” Percy started to pace. 

Hera sat up and waved over a nymph to bring more refreshments. 

“Why don’t you sit and have something to eat. I’m sure we will have a most delightful brunch together.” Hera’s lips curled into a smile.

///

Theseus cared not that his new bride hated him; he had what he wanted, a bride in the form of Hyppolyta’s sister and his son by Hyppolyta to be his heir.

Antiope could want for nothing as his Queen; she could have Phaedra as her slave, she could have the honor of being married to the Minotaur killer, to Poseidon’s son! Yet she struggles and resists him. 

No matter. She’ll come to love him eventually or he’ll beat the fight out of her eventually. 

“Now, we are coming upon Athens,” Theseus said casually in her ear. “You could enter the gates as its future queen or you could be its prisoner. Take your pick.” 

Antiope growled and struggled in his grasp and Theseus let out an annoyed sigh.

“Oh come now, think of the example you are setting for Hyppolytus.” Theseus tightened the ropes keeping Antiope bound. “Prisoner it is. Such a shame Hyppolyta died. I did enjoy bedding her. You, you’re not as enthusiastic but you did put up a fight.” 

Antiope reared back, making her head collide back and cracking Theseus’ nose.

“Now, now, wife to be,” Theseus said low and cruelly in her ear through a stream of blood from his nose, “fighting isn’t good for the little one.”

Ares and Percy dueled relentlessly as a way to cope with their anger. 

“I want him dead!” Ares roared as he brought his sword down.

“As do I!” Percy parried the blade. 

“Why won’t she pray to me?” Ares swung. “I would kill him for his crimes against her!”

“Perhaps she believes in her sisters to save her.” Percy ducked and rolled. 

“She knows I would avenge her just as I did for Alcippe!” Ares and Percy crossed blades once more. “All she has to do is ask it of me!” 

Percy stopped fighting. 

“Mortals, especially demigods, want to call upon their godly parents. It’s just that you-gods in general-don’t understand how fleeting their lives are and are only involved in a small amount of their lives. It doesn’t feel long to you, but it is years to them. The children don’t think you listen to their prayers or that their prayers are unimportant. Or the children don’t want to admit that they need their parent’s help because their pride has been wounded or that they believe they have disappointed you.” Percy said.

Ares looked stricken. “My daughters could never disappoint me.” 

“I know that. They, however, don’t know that.” Percy said. 

“I thought I was doing enough.” Ares collapsed to his knees.

“You’re doing better.”

“The Amazons, my daughters and their sisters, shall have my blessing and my rage as they rescue Antiope from that bastard.” Ares vowed.

Percy took that as her leave and made her way back to the aerie.

“My owlet, perhaps now you can come with me to Athens and see what I had the priests and sculptures make.” Athena greeted her. 

“I refuse to step into Athens so long as that oath-breaker is king.” Percy crossed her arms and stood firm in this familiar argument. 

“My darling, I have already sent visions and whispers to our priests. They know you are angry.” Athena placated. 

“I’m furious!” Percy let her temper loose as she picked up a few daggers and threw them at the target on the wall. “He’s arrogant!” 

Thwack!

“He’s a liar!” 

Thwack!

“He’s a rapist!” 

Thwack!

“A kidnapper!”

Thwack!

“And don’t get me started on how he looks at Phaedra and younger girls!” Percy threw another dagger with deadly accuracy. 

Athena only nodded as she supplied more daggers to be thrown. 

“Father already disowned him because I asked for it from him. Why can’t you get rid of him? Call him unfit for rule and have him removed!” Percy took a dagger from Athena.

“Because Theseus is the rightful heir to the throne. Because kings are not beholden to any power of man. Because you gave up your rights to any opinion and decision regarding him since your request to have him disowned. Because of-” Athena closed her mouth and her eyes flittered in the direction of Zeus’ palace. “Because the politics of mortals is beneath us.”

Percy pursed her lips as she threw the dagger.

“One day, Zeus is going to have a son exactly like him.” Percy growled; it wasn’t surprising to know Henry the VIII was Zeus’ son, but it also shouldn’t have been a shock to her when Annabeth had told her. 

Athena sucked in a sharp breath. 

“You should keep such prophecies and oracles to yourself. My father is paranoid about such a thing. You lost your grandmother to such a prophecy that dared suggest that; I would hate to lose you once more.” Athena placed her hands on Percy’s shoulders and turned her towards her. “Please, please, for my sake, don’t make such…”

“Rebellious. Treasonous. Impertinent?” Percy listed. 

“Dangerous. Don’t make such dangerous statements."

"Oh but I am impertinent."

///

Ares and Percy said nothing as they stood side by side; watching the bloody wedding happen. 

Watching as neither Antiope or her Amazonian sisters called out to either one for help. 

Watching as Theseus raised his dagger and murdered a pregnant Antiope in front of her sisters. 

Watching as the guards allowed the Amazons to only collect Antiope’s body but not Hyppolyta’s son.

Watching on as Theseus declared that for his wife, he’d take Phaedra, daughter of King Minos and the goddess Pasiphaë, as his Queen. 

Waiting for someone, anyone, to invoke their names so they could come down and deliver their divine wrath upon the King of Athens.

None did. 

“Will you…” Ares bowed his head and allowed tears to be shed for his daughter and grandson. 

“You don’t even have to ask.” Percy said, already preparing her net. 

///
Hades had Zagreus on his lap as he was judging the souls; explaining how it was done, what the souls would then do next, and then how he came to such judgments to the young Chthonic god of rebirth. 

One of the ghouls entered and announced the arrival of his dear niece.

She wore the white robes of her mother’s priestesses but while there was some color to the priestess on their cloak, Perseleia wore all white. The only other coloration was the silver belt about her waist and the net in which she carried souls. Not even in her hair did his niece wear any ornaments; the two buns on her head were pinned securely that not even Hades could tell if she wore any. 

“Auntie Perse!” Zagreus leaped from his father’s arms to rush to his aunt’s side. 

Perseleia did not care that Zagreus would not call her by her full name, only cooing and ruffling his hair as he called his aunt “destroyer” 

“Hello, my sweetness,” Perseleia picked him up with ease and kissed his cheek. “Have you been good?”

“Papa has been teaching me how to judge souls.” Zagreus said with excitement. 

“Ah! I must have come at just the right time. I have a soul that needs to be judged. She is very important to me, and I want her judged by only the best.” Perseleia said. 

“I can do it!” Zagreus wiggled out of her arms and ran all the way back to his father’s side but he sat upon his mother’s empty throne. He straightened up best he could, just like Hades; the god inwardly felt flattered. “You may approach!”

Hades raised his hand to cough in it to hide his amused smile. 

Perseleia took on a solemn posture as she opened her net and a young lady, about sixteen and with a swollen belly, had come out.

“This is Antiope, daughter of Ares, a member of the Amazons. She was a fierce warrior who was kidnapped, abused, and murdered by Theseus, son of Aegeus. I ask that your decision about her be kind as her life has been hard.” Perseleia stated. 

Zagreus scrunched his nose like his mother did when she was deep in thought. 

“Was she a hero?” Zagreus asked. 

“She and her sisters went about Greece and saved little girls who could not go into Artemis’ Hunt. Yes, she was a hero.” Perseleia said. 

Zagreus nodded. “Elysium!” 

“Seconded.” Hades said. “Angelos shall guide you to peace now.” 

Zagreus jumped off his mother’s throne and wrapped his arms around Perseleia. “How’s mommy?” 

“You’re mommy is good. She is bringing the world back to life.” Perseleia ran her fingers through Zagreus’ hair. 

“Does mommy miss me?” Zagreus asked. 

“Every day you are apart, sweetling.” Perseleia knelt down. “She counts down the days until she gets to see you again and loves you and your father more than anything, but she also loves her mother.”

“I miss her.” Zagreus said, burying his face in his aunt’s neck. 

“I know. But how about I pass on a message for you?” Perseleia offered. 

“Tell mommy that I miss her and that I love her and that I judged a soul and-” the young god trailed off as he told his aunt of all the new things he learned.

When Perseleia and Hades stood on the bank of the Styx, he gave her a bouquet of dead flowers to pass along to Persephone.

“I cannot touch them without wilting them, but just knowing they’ll come to life in her hands…” Hades said wistfully. 

“Softie.” Perseleia teased him. 

“So that’s where Zagreus gets his humors.” 

“Zagreus is a sweet baby boy who has done nothing wrong in his life.” Perseleia insisted. 

“He swiped my helmet and hid from me for days because he was upset Persephone was gone and he wanted her back.” Hades raised an eyebrow.

“An understandable reaction.” 

Why did he speak of these things? She always indulged Zagreus.

His niece shrugged and then stiffened. “Keep it close. Thieves will steal it.

“Uncle, when Theseus eventually comes to the Underworld, please punish him.” Perseleia said, eyes flashing dangerously.

Hades sighed. “I suppose I can do this for you.” 

“This is why you’re my favorite uncle.” Perseleia grinned at him.

“That is not a hard contest to win.” 

“I shall give your love to Persephone.” 

“Try to keep the trouble to a minimum.” Hades waved her off.

He pondered her words about his helm and thieves. 

Perhaps tighter security around the armory and the treasury was in order…

Chapter Text

In anger at not being invited to the wedding of Peleus and Thetis, Eris took a Golden Apple of immortality from the garden of the Hesperides and inscribed for the fairest upon the apple.

Zoë tightly gripped the hero’s hand as she pulled him along. 

“Hurry!” she whispered fearfully. “He will find us! Though he was turned to stone, he still has eyes and ears everywhere!”

“I am not afraid.” He told her. 

“You should be!” 

Zoë pulled him along as they raced up the side of the hill and hid behind a thorn bush.

“There is no need to run. I have bested a thousand monsters with my bare hands.” he said with confidence. 

“Not this one. Ladon is too strong. You must go around, up the mountain to where my father is stone. It’s the only way. Ladon will not suspect someone to steal from that side.” 

“I do not trust this plan.” He said. 

“You should not. But you cannot take the prize directly which is why you must sneak around. You will die if you don’t.” Zoë said. 

“Why don’t you help me get it then, pretty one?” He brushed a stray strand of curls out of her face and behind her ear. 

Zoë blushed. “I… my sisters, if they ever found out, they would disown me.”

“Then there is nothing for it.” He stood up.

Zoë grasped his arm to stop him. 

“No! Wait!” Zoë shouldn’t be doing this. This was a son of Zeus! He was doing these tasks to cleanse himself from the murder of his wife! But the madness of it was brought on by Hera… he did seem remorseful when he spoke of Megara. “I’ll help you.” 

He smiled down at her and she felt her knees grow weak at his charm. 

“I shall get the apple for you but you must stay out of sight!” Zoë pushed him back behind the thorn bush.

“I shall await your return.” Heracles kissed her knuckles. 

Zoë hoped she wasn’t making a terrible mistake doing this. 

Zoë wept at the foot of the mountain she could no longer call home.

Her sisters disowned her once they caught her handing the Golden Apple to Heracles; Hesperia, Arethusa, Erytheia, and Aegle cursed her forever more to never be remembered as one of the Hesperides and banished her from her home. 

When she told Heracles what had happened, he mocked her pain and left her there in her bitter tears. 

“Lady of Loyalty, of Oaths, of Demigods, hear my plea and see my tears.” Zoë did not expect the goddess to go against one of her heroes, but she heard rumors that Theseus of Athens had lost her favor for what he did to the wife of Dionysus.

Percy and Artemis were returning from hunting with some of the Hunters when Artemis’ Lieutenant, Anticlea, granddaughter of Hermes, stepped forward with her bow and her diadem and placed them at the feet of Artemis. 

“Anticlea, what is this?” Artemis asked. 

“I am sorry, my Lady. You have been wonderful to me and the most gracious goddess I could ever serve, but I must leave your sacred Hunt.” Anticlea bowed her head. “I have fallen in love with Laërtes of Ithaca and wish to leave the Hunt.”

Artemis pursed her lips and nodded. 

“You have my blessing to leave if that is what you wish.” Artemis placed a hand on her faithful, former, lieutenant’s curls. “Should you marry and have children, call upon me and I shall be there to assist their birth.”

“Thank you, my Lady!” Anticlea stood and hugged her goddess; as she did, she lost her silvery glow. “I shall teach my children archery and I shall dedicate my daughters to you!”

Percy smiled at the scene but it would be bittersweet not seeing Anticlea as often; as she was contemplating why the name was familiar, she heard a prayer being whispered out of pain and a broken heart.

Percy found herself before someone she hadn’t seen in many, many years. 

“Zoë.” She whispered. 

“You came!” Zoë looked like she didn’t believe she would. 

“You called.” Percy said as she knelt next to the not quite starry huntress. “Why do you cry?”

“He abandoned me! He said he would take me with him and be his wife! He lied to me! My sisters disowned me and cursed me to never be remembered as one of them! I have no family! I am all alone!” Zoë wept.

Percy pulled her into her arms and held her as she cried. 

“Why?” Zoë sobbed. 

“Because Heracles is an asshole.” Percy said, standing up and holding out her hand. “Come now, dry your tears. I’m going to take you to meet some special people.” 

“Who?” Zoë wiped her tears and took her hand.

“Your new sisters.” Percy said.

Percy took Zoë to Artemis and watched on as the Huntress swore her oaths and was bathed in moonlight.

“Thank you, my Lady.” Zoë came up to her before she left. 

“It was my honor, Zoë Nightshade.” Percy smiled at the Huntress and left before she could see the tears in her eyes.

When she was far enough away, Percy looked up at the night sky to where the Huntress would eventually live in the stars. 

And she cried. 

///

Athena stood before Asclepius with a gift. 

“This is blood from the gorgon Medusa. The blood in the right vial can heal any injury. The blood from the left can cause instant death. I give these to you because you are an excellent healer. You are wise and know when to heal, and when to give mercy.” Athena said as she held the vials to her daughter’s child.

“Thank you Lady Athena!” Asclepius grinned at her. 

The smile upon the eighteen year old boy was all Perseleia’s. 

“You are most welcome, Asclepius.” Athena ruffled his hair like she used to do when he was younger. Son of my daughter.

///

Hera and Percy were having brunch while complaining about the most recent thing Heracles had done when out of nowhere, Hera changed the subject.

“Do you want to know what Zeus just did?” Hera said, pouring some wine in with her nectar.

“Another affair?” Percy bit into her pastry. 

“ANOTHER ONE!” Hera shouted.

“What did he turn into this time?” Percy took a sip of her nectar.

“A swan and then he went upon the Queen of Sparta.” Hera ranted. 

Percy choked on her nectar.

“And do you want to know what her name is?” Hera took a long sip of her wine. “Leda!” 

“That sounds like Leto.” Percy coughed.

“That bastard has a type and it is anyone who’s not me!” Hera crossed her arms and pouted. “At least the Queen had the decency to offer up offerings and promise that she did not want to sleep with Zeus and that the children born would be raised and claimed by the Spartan King.” 

“Oh?” Percy recovered. “What are the children?”

“Pollux was the son, Eleni was the girl.” Hera said, bored of the topic already.

“Oh?!” Percy’s eye twitched. 

///

Theseus was pleased to be at the wedding of his greatest friend; Pirithous was so dear to his heart, and he was so handsome under the light of Apollo’s sun, in Theseus’ opinion, there was no beautiful a being as Pirithous in his wedding robes. 

“Theseus, my dearest friend!” Pirithous made his way over through the other guests and took Theseus’ hands in his own and kissed his knuckles. “I am so very glad you have made it; your presence here has made this day much more tolerable than if I just had the wine.” 

“Indeed.” Theseus agreed. 

“Your Amazonian wife couldn’t come?” Pirithous jested.

Were it anyone else, Theseus would have killed them for the insult but this was Pirithous; the other half of his soul, the only one to truly know him, the only one to understand how hard it was to be great, to be a hero, to be the son of a great god, to be a king.

Pirithous understood how difficult it was to have a wife as paranoid and as erratic as Phaedra; his step mother was the Queen of the Gods after all. He understood why of course, Theseus couldn’t bring Phaedra to the wedding; she would make such a fuss about the other women there, about how his eyes were wandering to other more deserving bodies.

“Alas, Antiope was murdered by her sisters on our wedding day as they despised her for betraying them for love. They were cruel in taking her body away but they spared my son.” Theseus lamented for the eavesdroppers. 

“Ah, but you still have your son and that’s better than a wife!” Pirithous clapped him on the back. 

“Indeed. May you have many sons, Pirithous.” Theseus said. 

“And you as well, Theseus.” 

Hippodamia was about as plain as Phaedra but, Theseus supposed, her brown eyes were worth something. If nothing else, she’d give his friend the sons he deserves.

The vows were soon said and Hippodamia was now Pirithous’ wife.

Now Theseus and his other half could drink to their hearts’ content.

They cheered and toasted and drank and were merry as their cups never ran dry. 

Theseus laughed as he caught the bride’s eyes and her face fell in understanding; she may be the wife, but Theseus would always be more important to Pirithous than her just as Pirithous was more important to Theseus than Phaedra was. Just as it should be.

Hippodamia lowered her eyes.

The celebration continued until the centaurs that were invited insulted Pirithous by kidnapping his bride. 

Now that would not do. 

“You with me?” Pirithous gathered his sword. 

“Until death.” Theseus followed his friend as they went to rescue his bride from her kidnappers.

///

“If Zeus is so worried about Aunt Thetis having a son more powerful than his father, then shouldn’t he practice some self restraint and not force her to marry a mortal?” Percy leaned over and whispered to Rhodes. 

“He’s only a mortal. Until Thetis has the son, she’ll have to stay with Peleus. And besides, Peleus will be dead soon enough.” Rhodes whispered back. 

Percy frowned as she watched Zeus bind Thetis and the mortal King in marriage. 

She had the most uneasy feeling about this whole thing and it had not let up since she heard Thetis was getting married. 

Percy felt her hands being taken by her older sister and squeezed as they watched the union. 

“This will only end with Thetis in grief.” Percy said lowly.

“You’ve been uneasy ever since the engagement was announced. What’s wrong?” Rhodes whispered. 

“I don’t know. I just have this horrible feeling.” Percy whispered. 

“It’s only a wedding, love. Nothing horrible could happen at a wedding.” Rhodes assured her. 

Percy still couldn’t shake the feeling; what was she missing? What had she forgotten? She knew this wedding was important. She knew Thetis would be the mother of Achilles. There was also something else. Something regarding-

The guests gasped as something was thrown towards the bride and groom.

“An apple?” Kymopoleia scoffed. 

Zeus picked it up. 

“What is written on it, husband?” Hera asked. 

“It says it is for the fairest.” Zeus said. 

Then he paled. 

Percy understood just how this would go down; three goddesses and a choice that would cause the biggest war in history. 

“Well, stop stalling and hand over the apple to me.” Hera snapped. 

Before Zeus could agree or disagree, Aphrodite stepped forward.

“I think we all know that as the goddess of love and beauty, I rightly deserve that apple.” 

Before Percy could blink, Athena also stepped forward; something she didn’t think Athena would do short of torture… maybe she was trying to diffuse the situation?

“Now, now. If we are bringing facts and logic into this; upon my birth, Helios stopped the sun, Heaven and Earth themselves rejoiced. Gods and goddesses stared at such beauty they have never seen before.” Athena then turned and held a hand out to her. “If that is not worth the Apple, then surely my daughter Perseleia should receive it because she is the most beautiful and as my daughter, she has only surpassed me in beauty.”

Percy wanted the earth to open up and swallow her right now. 

“Please don’t.” Percy felt her cheeks start to burn in embarrassment. 

“Athena is right.” Apollo said. “Loyalty is the most beautiful of all. Not Love nor Marriage could compare to her fairness or kindness.” 

Percy felt every single eye on her and she wanted nothing more than for Uncle Hades to open up a hole in the ground so she could escape but it felt like her feet were cement and stuck in place.

“All of you have come to me or Poseidon or went behind our backs to Zeus himself for the hopes of winning her hand in marriage and now you all stay silent as if there is even a contest as who is the fairest.” Athena scoffed. “No, I will not allow my daughter to be insulted like this. Father, give my daughter the Apple.” 

“Zeus,” Poseidon broke his silence. “You know what I have done on behalf of my wife and her sisters for slights against their beauty. Think really hard, though that may be difficult for you, about what I am willing to do for my daughter.” 

Percy pulled her veil further over her face and tried to bury herself in Rhodes' shoulder.

“Zeus, husband.” Hera glared at her husband. 

“Zeus.” Aphrodite said, warningly.

“Father!” Athena snapped. 

“No. I’m not making this decision.” Zeus said. “Find someone else who will make the choice and make him do it.” 

Percy groaned on her sister’s shoulder and Rhodes only patted her back. “I knew I should have stayed in bed today.”

“Father, do not be blind. Perseleia is the most beautiful and she obviously deserves the Golden Apple.” Apollo insisted. 

“Thetis is the bride!” Percy shouted. “If anyone deserves it, it’s her!” 

“No, Princess. Your beauty far surpasses mine though it is an honor to know you think I am deserving of such a prize.” Thetis smiled warmly at her. “King Zeus, I humbly ask that Perseleia receives the Golden Apple.” 

“You stay out of this, Nereid! As the goddess of love, I deserve the Golden Apple!” Aphrodite pouted. 

"Don't you dare speak to my wife's sister like that!" Poseidon roared at her.

“Only an idiot would not choose my daughter as the winner. Even a blind man can see Perseleia’s beauty.” Athena scoffed at her.

“Find someone else to choose for this contest! Decide amongst yourselves! I don’t care! I am staying out of this for my health.” Zeus said.

The wedding ended quickly soon after.

///

Phaedra wandered the halls of the palace. 

She didn’t run into Theseus; she wouldn’t. 

Not while he was off with Pirithous. 

His visits to Pirithous have only increased since Hippodamia’s death in childbirth.

Phaedra knew Theseus didn’t love her. 

Phaedra thought that after the birth of her twin sons Acamas and Demophon, Theseus would love her but he didn’t. 

He only set her aside for the “graceful and beautiful and courageous” Pirithous as soon as she gave him what he wanted. 

Phaedra didn’t know what she could do to keep his attention on her but she knew that Pirithous was a threat to her standing as Theseus’ queen and wife.

Before long, Phaedra found herself at the courtyard where her sons and Hippolytus were learning swordplay from the guards. 

Her sons, while seven years of age, were much too young for a real blade were kept separate from Hippolytus as he was taught to wield a xiphos. 

As Phaedra watched, and no one would dare think anything else but a mother curious as to how the training of her children and step son was fairing, she started to notice the similarities between Theseus and Hippolytus. 

Hippolytus had dark hair but his was softer than Theseus’. His eyes were a soft blue like the skies instead of the deep greens of the sea. Though he was only twelve, Phaedra had no doubt that Hippolytus would grow up strong like his father. He was already handsome enough.

A horrible thought struck Phaedra. 

She didn’t dare entertain it…

But if she couldn’t have Theseus’ love, why couldn’t she have Hippolytus?

Theseus was gone.

He’d never have to know.

Hippolytus never felt quite… comfortable, he supposed, in his father’s palace.

Theseus only used him when it suited him, bringing him out for special occasions or using the death of his Amazonian mother and aunt to garner sympathy from foreign dignitaries, but otherwise left him alone.

His stepmother on the other hand, wherever he went, Phaedra was always there, always either out of sight or just on the edge of his vision. Always silent. Always watching. She was always around. 

At first, it was only in the courtyard where he and his younger half brothers were doing their lessons. 

Then she started to come when he was alone and her sons with other tutors.

The sickening feeling he felt only grew with each time he caught sight of his stepmother. 

Hippolytus snuck out of the palace to go to the temple of Artemis. 

He didn’t know why he was drawn to her but he felt a connection between them; not a romantic one, but like her, he didn’t feel any desire for a relationship other than friendship. He didn’t see the point of any romantic entanglements and he had no desire to have sex though his father bragged about all of his previous lovers when he bothered to come home. 

“Oh goddess,” Hippolytus prayed. “I seek guidance. Something is wrong in my house though I don’t know what. My stepmother haunts my steps and watches me every waking hour. I can only find respite from her gaze in your temple. I know that you do not allow men in your hunt, but you are the protector of children with your brother. Could you please make an exception for me? Just long enough so I can make it to your friend and brother’s safe haven. Aunt Antiope told me stories of her growing up there.”

Hippolytus felt a breeze flow through the temple; a scent that was not found in the city, full of wild flowers and trees. He felt a cool hand brush against his shoulders and he didn’t flinch under the touch like he did with his stepmother. No, this touch was gentle and instilled in him the same longing he felt when he looked at the stars. 

Hippolytus placed his sword and some honeyed bread on the altar for the goddess.

“Thank you goddess! I pledge myself to the Goddess Artemis. I turn my back on romantic company, accept eternal youth, and join the Hunt.” Hippolytus whispered. 

A silvery glow surrounded him no sooner did the words leave his mouth.

He’d leave tonight. 

He’d back a bag and he’d run away into the wild. 

He just had to make it until then.

Hippolytus left the temple of his new patron goddess and made his way back to the palace so he could pack.

Just as he was about to climb off the balcony and run away, his father entered his room, scaring him half to death.

“Father!” Hippolytus jumped away from the edge of the balcony. 

He had not expected his father to return so soon, nor so furious.

“You disgrace me.” Theseus growled at him. 

Hippolytus stayed quiet; it was the only way he could survive his father’s anger. 

“After everything I’ve done for you: I protect you from the Amazons' anger. I take you in out of the love I had for your mother. I make you a prince. I give you a home, a kingdom! I name you my heir! I give you a new mother and brothers! And this is how you repay me? By raping my Queen and sneaking off into the night?!” Theseus yelled at him.

Hippolytus was confused. 

Not once had he touched his stepmother; he went out of his way to avoid her. Some of the kinder servants and slaves of the palace risked the Queen’s anger by helping him and hiding him away.

“I never-”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” 

Hippolytus flinched back. 

He never saw his father this angry.

“I never touched her! She’s the one always watching! Always lurking!” Hippolytus said, trembling. 

“Don’t you dare lie to me!” Theseus drew his sword.

Hippolytus’ eyes darted towards the moon and his father’s blade. 

My Lady, if you truly claimed me as your Hunter, please spare me from my father’s sword!

“I’m not lying to you! I didn’t rape Phaedra!” Hippolytus cried, backing up against the railing. 

Theseus raised his sword high. 

Lady, Σωτειρα, please hel-

Lady, Σωτειρα, please hel-

Artemis fell to her knees in the middle of her sprint as she felt the life of one of her Hunters flicker and then fade; the prayer unfinished.

No. 

No!

Not her newest one. 

Not the little one who just wanted a safe place to stay.

Artemis immediately appeared in Athens in her temple. 

Hippolytus’ sword was still on her altar as was the honeyed bread, though cooled by now. 

She changed her form to that of a dog and left her temple; weaving through the legs of mortals as she made her way towards the palace. She slipped in through the kitchen and heard the servants gossiping at the death of Hippolytus. 

“Poor boy. You don’t think he’d really do such a thing to the queen?” one of the slave girls asked. 

“Knowing the Queen, and how she stalked after the Prince? She probably lied about it to save face with the King.” an older woman whispered. 

Artemis tilted her head as one of the servants patted her head and scratched her ears. 

“Whether or not Prince Hippolytus raped the Queen, the gods still frown upon the killing of one’s kin. If the Athenide was displeased with the King before, she will be furious with him when she finds out.” Another servant said, shaking their head. 

Artemis stiffened. 

No!

She was furious. 

All the prayers, all the offerings to escape Athens, it wasn’t to escape Athens. It was to escape the Queen. 

How dare Phaedra lie and cause her Hunter’s death!

Artemis thought about her options: she could steal Hippolytus’ body and give him a proper Hunter’s burial, she could go to Uncle Hades and petition for him to release his soul as Hades had a soft spot for young children now he himself was a father, or she could go to her nephew Asclepius; Athena had gifted him gorgon’s blood as a gift for completing his training under Chiron and Apollo. Gorgon’s blood could theoretically heal anything.

It didn’t hurt to try. 

Artemis left the kitchen and sniffed out the scent of her blessing to find her Hunter. 

She found priests carrying the body of her Hunter away from his rooms. 

She saw Theseus consoling a sobbing Phaedra. 

Artemis growled at the lies spewing from both their mouths as she padded behind the priests. 

When they left the sight of the King and Queen, Artemis revealed herself to the priests and took her Hunter’s body away from the palace. 

“Hold on, Hippolytus. I shall do everything I can to bring you back and if not, then I and your eternal sisters shall lay you to rest.” Artemis said as she cradled Hippolytus’ cold body close. 

It was night as she arrived to her nephew’s home but Asclepius was up late studying herbs and their medicinal purposes, experimenting and combining them to receive their maximum healing potential. 

“Aunt Artemis, a pleasure as always to see you. What brings you here?” Asclepius asked.

“My Hunter was falsely slain by his father.” Artemis held out Hippolytus’ body. “Can you please heal him? Your mother says you surpass even your father in healing.” 

Asclepius blushed. “Mother loves to exaggerate my skills, I am only a simple healer.”

“You and I both know that Perseleia does not boast about what is not true.” Artemis chided. “Please, he’s just so young.” 

“And if I cannot?”

“Then you have done your best and his sisters and I will lay him to rest.” Artemis said. 

“Of course. Lay him on the table.” Asclepius cleared a space for the boy. 

Artemis laid Hippolytus down and unwrapped the sheets holding him; his body still soft and warm, Artemis could pretend that her new Hunter was only sleeping if only he weren’t so pale.

“How fresh?” Asclepius turned from experimental student to doctor. 

“He was slain not even an hour ago.” Artemis held herself as she stood back. 

“Tell me about him?” Asclepius asked while he gathered ingredients. 

“He was the most recent to swear oaths to me. My only male Hunter.” Artemis said, frowning as tears fell down her cheeks. “He just wanted out of that house. He just wanted to be somewhere safe. He prayed to me to save him. I was too late. I was already on my way with the others when he was murdered falsely.” 

“Hmm.” Asclepius mixed some herbs together into a paste before taking a vial and letting a single drop fall into the mixture. “This…” Asclepius stirred it, “is purely experimental. I haven’t had the chance to test it out on an actual dead person, so you and your Hunter will be the first. Can you open his mouth and tilt his head back? I need his throat open.” 

Artemis did as he asked. 

Asclepius poured the mixture into Hippolytus’ mouth, closed his mouth, and massaged his muscles to stimulate swallowing. 

“But, I also didn’t have gorgon’s blood before.” Asclepius looked up at her and grinned, just like his father did when he was learning something new. “So this is going to be exciting.”

Artemis let out a bittersweet huff as her sweet nephew tried to make her feel better; she would only feel better when her Hunter was avenged. 

Artemis watched for any sign of life. 

“How long do you think-”

Hippolytus’ eyes opened and he gasped for air. 

“By the gods, that worked!” Asclepius cried with glee. 

Hippolytus sat up, gasping and coughing as he looked around before his eyes landed upon Artemis. 

“My Lady!” 

“Oh my sweet Hunter, it’s going to be okay!” Artemis opened her arms out and allowed Hippolytus to come to her. 

Hippolytus leaped off the table and flung his arms around his patron goddess. 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Artemis held him tight and kissed his brow. “Your sisters will be glad to meet you.” 

“I didn’t-I promise I didn’t-”

“I know. Your stepmother’s lies and your father’s actions have angered the gods, I promise you.” Artemis pulled back. “You have a choice; I know you want to safely go to my brother’s camp and I can take you, but if you still desire to be my Hunter, I want to offer you the choice.” 

“I want to be your Hunter! Your temple was the only one that I felt safe in.” Hippolytus said. 

“In that case, let us go and meet your immortal sisters of the Hunt.” Artemis looked up to her nephew once more. “Asclepius, thank you. Thank you!”

Artemis kissed her nephew’s cheek and ruffled his hair like she did when he was a boy. 

Aphrodite watched as the newest scandal broke out: the Queen of Athens fell in love with her stepson and her lies led to his death by his own father? Delicious. 

But then she watched Artemis sneak in and steal away the boy’s body. 

How curious…

Aphrodite watched as Artemis went to her nephew and asked him to heal the dead boy which was ridiculous as no one could bring back the dead. Not even Orpheus who sang so sweetly and had permission from Hades and Persephone themselves could bring back his lovely Eurydice.

But Asclepius had done it.

What had Perseleia always said? That Asclepius would be a greater healer than even Apollo? Will wonders never cease; she was right all along.

Aphrodite turned her attention back to Athens just in time to see Phaedra hurl herself from her window and die once reaching the ground.

Well, Hippolytus did spurn love and choose a loveless life in Artemis’ Hunt.

Aphrodite gathered her robes and made sure she looked irresistible before going to find Zeus. 

She found him wooing some nymph in his temple and cleared her throat as she arrived. 

“Aphrodite, you look stunning as ever.” 

“But not enough to get that Golden Apple?” Aphrodite purred. 

“I still refuse to make a decision. Let some mortal pick among you three that way if he displeases the other two, they can kill him. I don’t want to face an eternity of wrath from Hera, Athena, or you.” Zeus said, his hands not once wandering from the nymph’s body.

“Tch. I suppose that is fair. I just have to tell you the most interesting thing I just saw.” Aphrodite lounged upon one of the couches. “The Athenian Queen lusted after her step son and caused his death before jumping to her own.” 

“And why should this amuse me?” Zeus peppered kisses to the Nymph’s neck. 

“Because Asclepius, Apollo and Perseleia’s son, raised the prince from the dead.” Aphrodite said.

“What?!” Zeus broke away from his focus on the Nymph. “No one can bring back the dead! Hades does not allow it!” 

“I saw it with my own eyes. Asclepius found a cure for death. Amazing, isn’t it? Perseleia was right in that Asclepius would surpass Apollo in healing. Her prophecies are always so vague and confusing that they just don’t make any sense at the time. As a mother myself, I always like to brag about my children and their accomplishments but never did I think for a moment that they could defy the natural order of things.” Aphrodite waved her fingers at the King of the gods. “Ta ta. And Zeus? I won’t tell Hera about this.” 

Aphrodite winked at him as she sashayed out of the temple. 

Walking back to her own temple, Aphrodite smirked as thunder rolled and lightning crackled. 

///

Amphitrite was enjoying her time spent with her youngest daughter when Poseidon and Apollo both entered the royal apartments. 

Poseidon’s face was grim and he said nothing as he allowed Apollo to enter. 

“Perseleia,” Apollo placed a hand on her arm and led her away to speak with her.

Amphitrite watched as Apollo took her daughter’s hands in his before leaning down to speak in her ear; words too low for Amphitrite to hear.

Amphitrite swam over to Poseidon and placed her hands on his shoulders. 

“My love, what troubles you? What is going on?” Amphitrite asked. 

A distressed chitter came from Perseleia’s lips, causing Amphitrite to turn but Poseidon held her back from comforting her daughter. 

Her daughter was turned away from her but Amphitrite could see her daughter’s shoulders shake as she grasped onto Apollo for stability. 

Apollo’s vibrant blue eyes were a dull gold, showing his rage and his grief as he held onto her daughter. 

Perseleia let go of his hands and she must have covered her mouth as she let out a muffled cry. 

Poseidon only shook his head. 

When Perseleia turned, Amphitrite saw an all too familiar look; she had seen it on Triton’s face when he lost Pallas to Athena, she had seen it on Rhodes’ face when she lost Electryone to her own hand, and now she saw it on Perseleia’s face.

It was the look of pure heartbreak.

It was a look of pure grief.

It was the look of a parent who couldn’t believe their child was dead.

Chapter Text

In retaliation for his son's death, Apollo slayed the cyclopes who forged Zeus' Master Bolt. He was stripped of his godhood and was made to be a shepherd for a year. When the Elder Cyclopes were brought back, Asclepius was ascended to avoid a feud.

Athena logically knew mortals died every day; her daughter was a psychopomp, funerary practices were sacred and honored, Hades and Persephone were King and Queen of the dead. 

Athena logically knew mortals had one ending and that was death (ascension or eternity in the stars notwithstanding).

Athena knew.

She knew death before she even knew it was death; the moment Pallas’ eyes dulled and before her body melted into water after her spear pierced her heart was the moment that Athena became intimate with death despite how she never wanted to be. 

As the goddess of war and battle strategy, Athena learned to embrace it with the help of Ares. 

Still…

As Athena stood silently at the edge of the town, as she was surrounded by terrified villagers who feared another one of her father’s lightning bolts, Athena couldn’t help but think for the second time, that a thread cut too short was a tragedy.

And with that thread being her grandson…

Athena paused her musings as Perseleia finally bolted from her side to the charred remains that was once Asclepius’ home, where he would mend broken bones or sick or rashes. 

Perceleia had not said a word as she stepped into the ruins before finding what she was looking for. 

Athena watched as she knelt down and reached for something, only to whimper, and shake as silent tears wracked her body. 

Athena wanted to comfort her but she didn’t know how.

Athena looked at the mortals and saw that some women had their arms around children or their hands on their shoulders. 

Athena started to go forward before she thought against it; then she pushed the thought aside and made her way to comfort her daughter.

Athena walked over what used to be the threshold of her grandchild’s home… that used to be his table where he studied medicine… over there was where Athena would sit as he would tell her all he had discovered and learned through study and practical applications.

Athena kept walking through the destroyed home she once frequented until she came behind her daughter.

Perseleia was shaking as her hand hovered over the charred body sprawled out before her.

Before Perseleia could press her delicate hand to her son’s remains, a breeze kissed their skin and what remained of Asclepius was lost to the wind. 

Perseleia shuddered and desperately tried to hold on to as many ashes as she could to keep them from flying away.

Athena’s heart broke for her daughter.

Her daughter’s weeping as she bent forward, curled in on herself in agony, would be sight enough to make poets weep and bards silent.

Athena knelt beside her daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. 

Athena didn’t understand mortals or their emotions like her daughter did, but she tried too for her sake.

Asclepius was a brilliant mortal and only such a mind could come from Athena’s daughter (she absolutely refused to acknowledge Coronis) and now he was gone. 

He would be mourned; if Perseleia could not weave his shroud, then Athena would.

When Perseleia could weep no more, she clawed and scraped at the ashes, searching for something but Athena didn’t understand what she was looking for until Perseleia took her net from her waist and opened it; Athena couldn’t see what was placed inside, but Perseleia treated it with the utmost care and lovingly placed it as one would place a child in their crib.

“His soul?” Athena asked.

Perseleia nodded numbly. 

Athena wanted to ask what it looked like, how much it weighed, if it looked like him prior or if he took on the appearance of the body but Athena didn’t think Perseleia could handle questioning at this time. 

“Shall I escort you back to the sea?” Athena asked gently. 

Perseleia nodded again. 

Athena had never seen her daughter this quiet before.

She hated it.

She never wanted to see her daughter this quiet ever again. 

Athena just didn’t know how to get her to be anything but numb.

///

Rhodes sat at the loom since she heard the news. 

She wove the blue and gold threads together until it resembled the sun shining upon the waves; a shroud worthy of a child born of sea and sun, a shroud similar to one she already had to weave for her own daughter. 

“Apollo and Father have been speaking in hushed tones, only silent when one draws too near.” Kymopoleia said. 

“Apollo looks torn between being furious and weighed down under all the sorrow.” Benthesikyme said. 

“Father is furious. Asclepius may not be his grandchild by blood, but Perseleia birthed and raised him; he’s as good as. I think I heard father intends to bring up this grievance to the King in a formal complaint on behalf of our sister.” Kymopoleia said. “Odd considering how possessive he is of his own.”

“Mother has brought out Asclepius’ old baby blanket and she won’t stop crying.” Benthesikyme said.

“And what of our poor, kind hearted sister? How has she been since the news?” Kymopoleia asked. 

“Our sister remains unresponsive; she is here physically and yet her mind is far elsewhere and still she leaves the safety of the sea! I don’t understand her indifference for the child she raised.” Triton said, pacing. 

“Do not mistake our sister’s numbness for indifference. She is grieving!” Rhodes snapped at her brother, turning away from the shroud to scold her younger brother. 

“Mortals die every day! Perseleia has raised enough heroes and heard of their deaths often enough! Our sister is no stranger to death and grief and yet this one is different? Why does this one send her into apathy?” Triton raised his voice.

Rhodes took a deep breath to ponder how to delicately say her next words; both for Triton and for herself.

“It was a messenger.” Rhodes said finally. 

Benthesikyme and Kymopoleia shared a look of understanding. 

Triton looked puzzled at his sister’s words. 

“A messenger brought me news of Electryone’s death. I was away, fighting with Helios about the disgrace of our marriage, of me, of his mistress he was parading around and I was not there for my daughter when she needed me. I didn’t believe it. I was in torment day and night. I refused to believe anything but the truth until I saw my daughter’s cold body for myself. It was not until then that I could mourn and weave her shroud and give Electryone her final rites so she could be at peace.” Rhodes’ voice started to waver. 

Triton looked down. 

“You got to hold Pallas as she died. Murder on Zeus’ part, an accident on Athena’s, but you at least got to hold Pallas as she breathed her last. You knew for certain she was gone.” Rhodes made Triton look her in the eye. “Apollo has told Perseleia that her son is dead. A son our sister has carried, birthed, nursed, and raised. She has to know for certain.”

“She was a fool to go alone. At all! What if Zeus should strike her down as well? She prophesied Asclepius would be a great healer, she could have seen he would be able to raise the dead! Who knows what else she sees that Zeus would fear!” Triton hissed. 

“Then I would pity Zeus for having to face a grieving mother.” Rhodes said. “Allow Perseleia this mercy of going to see for herself that her son is dead. Apollo can tell her but she won’t believe it until she sees Asclepius for herself. Let’s allow her the kindness to go alone so she can mourn.”

“I don’t like it.” Triton looked away. 

“I don’t like it anymore than you do.” Rhodes said softly. 

“You are wise, sister.” Triton said to his older sister. 

“No, I just know what she’s going through.” Rhodes said bitterly.

Apollo stood before Poseidon in a closed off study. 

“What do you plan to do?” Poseidon asked; grief rising and falling within him like the tide. 

“I cannot tell you.” Apollo said, his eyes a blazing golden showing just how furious he was. 

There were times where Poseidon feared for his daughter with her friendship with the sun god.

Not because Poseidon knew Apollo and his lover’s unfortunate tendencies to die prematurely, but because when he was greatly angered, his eyes turned golden, and he bore an uncanny resemblance to Kronos. And with Perseleia’s fair features taking after Rhea so strikingly; while Poseidon was still in support of a union between his daughter and Apollo, it was times like this when he was glad for his daughter’s chosen virginity and her unmarried will. Poseidon would have despaired to see the marriage of Kronos and Rhea repeat itself with his daughter and the nephew he thought of as a son.

But Apollo was steadfast in his devotion to Perseleia even though he could not physically have her. 

He defended her and went out of his way to support her and when he lost the Bird Race, when Perseleia went to him to comfort him after his loss, she expressed her desires to remain unmarried and unbound, Apollo respected them with a passion. 

Unlike other gods, Poseidon could trust his daughter’s safety and honor with the sun god.

Apollo was the one god he would trust with his youngest daughter’s heart.

“Will it hurt her?” Poseidon asked. 

“No.” Apollo growled. 

Apollo could not go after Zeus; while he was the favorite of his sons, Zeus vastly preferred his daughters as he believed them incapable of overthrowing him. Athena, even though she rebelled with them, still had his favor because she was born a daughter. Were she born a son, she would have been just as easily thrown from Olympus and made mortal as well; she would still be distrusted like Apollo and Poseidon.

Apollo, for better or worse, was Zeus’ son with his sixth wife and thus still legitimately an heir despite Hera’s protestations.

Any action against Zeus would be seen as rebellion so Apollo would have to go after someone else, someone just as dear to the King.

Someone who fashioned an object that Zeus coveted more than his wives and mistresses.

“Then I will not stop you.” Poseidon gave him the unspoken permission to do what Apollo was going to do. 

“Thank you, uncle.” Apollo bowed his head and left to get his vengeance. 

///

Hades knew intimately the delicate balance that was held between life and death; how could he not when he, the king of the dead, married the very goddess that brought life to the earth?

Hades had no qualms about the resurrection of souls, just that it must be of a level of difficulty that would deter the most devoted of partners. Orpheus failed because of his love for Eurydice and he would not have ventured into the Underworld for her had he not loved her deeply but that very love returned her to Hades’ kingdom regardless of how he hoped they would make it. 

Asclepius, while he disrupted that balance, understood that it was only to be done once and never again; he had promised Hades he would raise no more souls from the dead after Hippolytus was a success. Asclepius was a healer and he, like Hades, understood that death eventually came for all.

He only wished it hadn’t come for the young man as quickly as it did.

Thanatos whispered in his ear when Asclepius had been struck down by Zeus. 

Persephone had gripped her throne until her golden ichor dripped down the thorns and briars. 

Hades and Persephone waited with baited breath with each soul they judged until they saw the young man.

“Do you think Perseleia will bring him?” Persephone asked him. 

“Either she’ll bring him, or Hermes will be with her.” Hades said. 

More and more souls came until finally, three gods entered his throne room.

His niece, his kind hearted niece who guided souls into his kingdom with such sweetness and care, looked as if she hadn’t slept since her son’s death. His niece, who’s beauty rivaled his beloved Persephone (though Persephone was more beautiful in his humble opinion), was pale and wane… when had she last eaten?

Rhodes and Triton flanked their sister, each one held on Perseleia’s arms as if she’d collapse without them there to hold her upright; a beautiful shroud was folded in her arms and her net on her waist, appearing as if it held only one soul inside.

Rhodes and Triton bowed their heads in reverence to the King and Queen of the Underworld but not Perseleia.

Hades briefly wondered if she knew she was even here. 

His niece, now that Rhodes and Triton brought her closer, her brilliant eyes were dulled and unfocused as she stared off into the shadows. 

“Sister,” Rhodes said gently.

Perseleia opened her mouth to speak but no word came out.

Zagreus and Melinoë sat at the base of their mother’s throne not knowing what to do; the woman who was all smiles and laughter with them was no longer shining with joy at seeing them.

Hades took Macaria from his wife as Persephone got up.

When Persephone took Perseleia in her arms, that was when the dam broke and Perseleia cried uncontrollably and deeply in his Queen’s shoulder. 

Rhodes took the shroud from Perseleia's grasp and stepped towards Hades. 

Before Rhodes could speak, Hades raised a hand. 

“I know what you are here for. The fees are waved and judgement is not needed. Once his soul is turned over, Asclepius can be escorted to Elysium. 

Persephone whispered in Perseleia’s ear. 

“No, nononno…” Perseleia whimpered. 

“I know. I know, sweetness.” Persephone said, rubbing her back. “But he needs peace.”

“I don’t want to-I can’t!” Perseleia wailed. 

“Come on. You and I shall take him there ourselves.” Persephone comforted. 

“Children, why don’t you go with your aunt and mother. Help your cousin get settled in Elysium.” Hades said to Zagreus and Melinoë.

The gods, with physical ages of thirteen and seven, got up and followed their mother and aunt like ducklings to Elysium. 

Hades sighed deeply before turning to Rhodes and Triton once they had left. 

Macaria made the only sounds with her babbling and giggling. 

“Your daughter,” Triton said finally, “she looks happy and healthy.” 

“She is the goddess of blessed death. When she is older, she shall be given charge of the souls on the Islands of the Blessed.” Hades said with pride before biting his tongue; tense at the reminder that Hades’ daughter’s immortality was secured and she’d never die while Triton’s and Rhodes’ daughters were forever gone to them. 

“That is wonderful. I remember when Pallas was that age. She was nonstop smiles as she watched the schools of fish.” Triton said bittersweetly. 

“And Zagreus and Melinoë; what are their domains if I may ask?” Rhodes asked. 

“Zagreus is the god of rebirth. Now that he’s older, he can start assisting Lethe with souls who wish to be reborn to try for the Isles.” Hades said, tension fading away. “Melinoë is the goddess of ghosts. Hecate has agreed to take her into her train to give her experience in the world above and hone her abilities with the spirits. I do worry about them though; born in the Underworld means they are limited in their time in the world above. Zagreus went above with his mother to meet Demeter and only returned to the Underworld after a few minutes of being in the sun.” 

“Your children are very beautiful and their abilities are very wonderful.” Rhodes said diplomatically.

“They take the very best of their qualities after their mother.” Hades said down to Macaria who cooed up at her father with her mother’s eyes.

“And the other half, they take the very best of their qualities after their father.” Persephone said as she returned with Perseleia; her eyes red with tears. “Oh Macaria, have you been holding court in my absence?”

Macaria giggled as she was picked up by her mother. 

Perseleia returned to her siblings’ sides more unresponsive than when she arrived. 

“She has learned from the greatest of Queens and the best of women.” Hades said adoringly to his wife.

Persephone returned to her throne, a crown of nightshade and belladonna grew atop her dark curls. 

“We shall take great care of Asclepius while he is in our kingdom.” Hades said. 

“We will not stop you from visiting him upon your visits while performing your duties, but you of all people know that it will only make the grief worse for you, Guardian.” Persephone said, not unkindly to Perseleia.

Perseleia didn’t speak as she nodded. 

Rhodes and Triton guided their sister back to the surface, back to the sea. 

“Perseleia is too deep in grief to seek vengeance.” Persephone said. 

“Any word on Apollo?” Hades sighed as he prepared for the influx of souls that were bound to arrive. 

“Not a word. I fear my brother will unleash a rage that hasn’t been seen before. He loves Perseleia. He loves Asclepius and encourages the narrative that he was born of both Perseleia and him, writing Coronis out of his story completely. He sees Asclepius as their shared and only child. He will be furious at the news of his favorite child’s death.” Persephone said.

///

Apollo returned to his temple after he murdered the Elder Cyclopes to clean himself of the blood. 

Apollo got out of his bath when Ares entered the chamber; Deimos, Phobos, and Enyo flanked him. 

“Brother.” Apollo said as he grabbed a chiton and put it on. 

“You know why I am here.” Ares said, resigned in his role. 

“I am aware.” Apollo said. 

“Then you must understand why I have to do this.” Ares said. 

“I do.” Apollo clasped the chiton with an arrow broach. “Do what you must. I won’t resist.”

Deimos and Phobos came forth with the chains. 

As they bound Apollo, Enyo spoke with sympathy.

“Phoebus Apollon, you are to be brought before the God King under charges of treason, rebellion, and murder of the Elder Cyclopes who forged our God King’s lightning. You shall be tried and sentenced according to his will. May father have mercy on you, brother.” Enyo said that last part softly. 

“Oh sister, you and I both know father’s mercy is never mercy.” Apollo said, now bound in chains. “Take me away, boys. I have nothing to hide.”

Apollo held his head high as Ares, his sons, and Enyo brought them to the council chambers.

Thunderstorms were already starting to cover Olympus and by the time Apollo stepped foot onto the temple grounds, rain had soaked him through.

Hera, draped in the finery of the heavens, looked strangely… detached. Normally, she’d be all for punishment towards any child of Zeus that was not of her blood, especially from the wives that came before her, but not today. She didn’t even so much as smirk.

Zeus was furious but Apollo’s fury outmatched his father’s.

He heard weeping coming from Artemis’ side of the throne room; he didn’t dare look. Seeing his sister in tears before he was obliterated would be the worst form of punishment.

The room was silent save for Artemis who was being ushered further away by Hestia and Demeter. 

No one dared speak. 

Only Apollo had the courage to look Zeus in the eye; or was it stubbornness? 

“You have murdered the cyclopes who have fashioned my Master Bolt.” Zeus thundered. 

“You murdered my son.” Apollo said, calmly.

“He disrupted the balance of life and death! No mortal can have such hubris!” Zeus shouted. 

“Sisyphus returned from the dead after kidnapping a god and delaying his funerary rites. Tantalus served you his son as stew. Theseus dared to kill my sister’s Hunter. Asclepius was only asked if he could heal the boy, which he did.” Apollo said.

“You have committed treason against me! The first act of rebellion, I could forgive,”

Apollo wanted to laugh.

Forgive, ha!

“This second act of rebellion, I cannot. You will be thrown into Tartarus. You shall be forgotten by the mortals. Helios shall have the sun once more. This is my-”

The doors slammed open and every head turned.

Even Apollo’s.

The sight before him, Apollo wanted to commit it to memory if this was to be the last he ever saw such beauty and loveliness.

Perseleia, wearing deep blue peplos of the dark depths of the sea and a deep purple mourning himation, looked stunning. Her dark curls were pulled back and out of her face and held back by a diadem that resembled her wings arched towards the sky; giving her the appearance of a silvery halo. 

Her face was contorted in masked pain as she, with Leto by her side, interrupted the sham of a trial. 

“There better be a good explanation as to why you are interrupting justice.” Zeus said with barely concealed anger. 

“Apologies for the interruption, grandfather,” gods, Apollo wanted to savor the look on Zeus’ face; it looked as if he was forced to eat something bitter and sour. “My son was murdered and I hear his father was being sentenced for carrying out vengeance.”

She was here!

Apollo wanted her anywhere but here!

He promised Poseidon that Perseleia wouldn’t be hurt by his actions.

If she were to be harmed, even a scratch, knowing it was on Apollo’s behalf would be worse than any punishment his father could sentence him.

Perseleia took in the council, Apollo in chains, and the lack of gods of justice.

“Where is Themis? If there is a trial, then surely your wife, the goddess of justice, divine law, and divine order should be here.” Perseleia looked around and did not find the goddess. “Or perhaps, as King you find yourself to be above the law?”

Apollo wanted to tell her to run, to hide, to be anywhere but where Zeus was at this moment and as furious as he was. 

“Do you have cause to be here?” Zeus snarled at her. 

Apollo saw Poseidon, out of the corner of his eye, tighten his hold on his trident and tense up, ready to jump between his daughter and his brother. 

“I have every cause to be here.” Perseleia stepped forward, pulling Leto with her. “My son, Asclepius, may not be mine biologically, but I gave birth to him. I nursed him. I raised him. And now, because of you, I have taken him to the House of Hades to rest.”

Apollo wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that Asclepius was hers until she believed it. 

“Apollo only did what any father would do if they lost their son. Apollo only did what you would do if someone were to go after Artemis or Athena and strike them down. I don’t understand why you would punish Apollo for something you yourself would do; or is it because Apollo would do as you do that you fear him so?” Perseleia said, to the King of the gods, without fear of being struck down for such boldness. 

Apollo discreetly peeked at his father’s face to gauge his reaction. 

Zeus’ face was hard but he was glancing at his daughters while deep in thought.

“My Lord husband,” Leto stepped forward. 

Hera scoffed at the title but Leto continued. 

“I know you have not visited our bed in centuries, preferring your new wife and Queen to your old one, but I ask, for the love that we once had, for the love that you have of your children, for the vengeance you would take if any harm came to them, that you have mercy on your first born son.” Leto knelt before Zeus. 

The other wives of Zeus that were in the room and had also bore him children fixed him with stern looks.

Apollo knew that even if his father reconsidered Tartarus, he would still be punished severely in order to maintain face. 

Hera scowled at the reminder that Apollo, not Ares, was Zeus’ first born son; not even the five wives prior to Leto could give him a son and heir. Métis was devoured while she was still pregnant with Athena out of fear of birthing a son.

“I have to make an example of him; if I let him walk free, then others will think it’s alright to murder in the name of vengeance.” Zeus said. 

“Like how my son was murdered? Even after swearing to Hades on Styx’s waters that he’d never raise another soul from the dead?”

Zeus’ face pinched in irritation. 

“I want the cyclopes who made my Master Bold returned, healthy and whole.” Zeus said.

“And I want my son back but that won’t happen, will it?” Perseleia’s voice hitched and tears began to fall down her cheeks once more. 

Zeus groaned in frustration. 

“If I ascend the boy, will I have your word that the Elder Cyclopes will not be harmed in the future?”

“You have it.” Perseleia’s lip quivered. 

Perseleia didn’t need to swear, not as the goddess of oaths. 

“Apollo shall be mortal under King Admetus of Thessaly. He will serve there until the King releases him from service to return to Olympus. Upon Apollo’s return to our council, only then, shall Asclepius ascend to godhood and return.” Zeus decreed. 

Apollo couldn't believe it. 

This beautiful, intelligent, breathtaking goddess managed to sway his father’s mind.

As Ares led him past Perseleia, she reached out a soft hand to grasp his bicep. 

"You come back to me! Promise me!" Her eyes were bloodshot from crying since Asclepius had died; dark circles were forming under her lovely eyes, when did she last sleep? Her hold was lighter; has she eaten? Has she lost her strength since their son’s death?

And like she even needed to ask?

Even if Apollo died, he’d still find a way to crawl to her side. 

He knew it from the moment she stepped out of the fountain that day in Athens, he belonged at her side

“I will.” He swore to her with his entire being. 

Leto pulled Artemis and Perseleia into a hug once Apollo was sent to Thessaly. 

“Thank you, thank you!” Leto said, crying on Perseleia's shoulder. 

“Zeus is predictable and easily manipulated; mention his favorite children and bat a few tears, and he’ll give in like all men do.” Perseleia shrugged off Leto’s thanks. 

How unusual it was for a goddess to shrug off praise and show humility…

Leto understands why Perseleia holds out on marriage, she’d be a hypocrite to not understand it when her own daughter has sworn vows of maidenhood after witnessing first hand what her father will do to women. 

Leto only hopes that Perseleia consents to marriage with Apollo soon to ease their aching hearts. 

///

Apollo watched over the flock under his care; King Admetus treated Apollo with the utmost respect, giving him lodgings and food in exchange for tending his sheep and goats as his punishment. When Apollo questioned if the king wished for a grand wall to be built like Troy, the king balked at the suggestion and immediately handed Apollo a shepherd’s crook and a bow.

It was nearing dusk, the first of the evening stars were coming out, and soon Artemis was to take her chariot and raise the moon. 

Apollo sighed as he watched over the flock. 

A rustle from the bushes tore his eyes from the little lamb following after its mother. 

A slender red fox slipped under the branches and flounced over to where Apollo sat. 

The creature put a black paw on his knee and gekkered at him. 

“Heh, you are not one of mine, are you?” Apollo rubbed the fox’s ears. “Did Perseleia send you?”

The fox didn’t answer him; it merely climbed up onto his lap and curled up, making content chittering as it fell asleep under Apollo’s strokes. 

Apollo looked up at the stars and wished that one day, preferably soon although Apollo would wait for however long it took, that Perseleia would accept him as a suitor.

///

One year had passed slowly; Apollo, Perseleia, Artemis, Athena, and Leto anxiously waited for someone to arrive, someone who was promised his life back and godhood. 

Guided by the three Morai, Asclepius was returned to his parents.

No longer was his body ash and burnt, but he was whole and healthy. His hair as golden and as curled as his parents; his eyes bright and ever changing though oscillating between sky blue and sea green; he was strong once more with the glow of immortals about him. 

“From this day until his last,” Clotho began. 

“Asclepius, god of medicine, of healers, of doctors,” Lachesis continued.

“Son of Truth and Loyalty.” Atropos finished. 

The Fates vanished with the sound of cutting shears, leaving the gods alone. 

“Μητέρα! Πατέρας!” Asclepius, though a young man of twenty, ran to his parents’ open arms and collapsed, knowing they would catch him. 

Asclepius was given a snake, one of Aegis’ clutch, from Athena knowing how fond of snakes Asclepius was despite the fear his siblings and father had. 

Shortly after the marriage of Helen of Sparta and Menelaus of Mycenae, Asclepius married Epione, the personification of soothing pain and care in a small ceremony. Their daughters were healers like their parents, their sons were heroes of the Trojan war.

You’d think that it would be a happy ending, but not even the god of doctors and medicine could bring back the goddess of loyalty.

Chapter Text

As Heracles lay on the pyre, his mortality burned away and he ascended into the heavens as a god and married Hebe, goddess of youth.

Theseus was thrown from the cliffs of Skyros. They only retrieved his body to reclaim his sword and spear to give them burial. They returned his body to the waters.

Theseus watched Pirithous as the golden rays of light entered the chambers.

“You’re staring.” Pirithous murmured. 

“Can you blame me? You’re stunning.” Theseus brushed Pirithous’ hair back behind his ear.

“Is that how you speak to your bed partner? No wonder Phaedra killed herself.” Pirithous stretched like a cat before shifting to place his head on Theseus’ chest. 

“A shame about Hippolytus but he could not allow him to live for what he had done.” Theseus started to trace no real pattern on Pirithous’ back. “Phaedra just couldn’t cope with the shame.” 

“A shame. Here we are, two Kings of great kingdoms with no queens to raise the sons we have left.” Pirithous said, not giving a shit about the dead Athenian Queen and Prince. Why would he when he was in Theseus’ bed?

“You’re scheming. What is it?” Theseus said. 

“We are great heroes and warriors, our fathers are the great kings of sea and sky; we should have wives that reflect our status. We should have wives that are daughters of Zeus.” Pirithous started trailing kisses down Theseus’ chest. 

“A bold plan.” Theseus sighed. 

“A brilliant plan.” 

“And you have daughters in mind?” 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t already set your sights on someone; I know you and I know your tastes.” Pirithous trailed lower. 

Theseus bent an arm under his head. “I will admit, the idea of marrying Eleni of Sparta is appealing but Tyndareus would not give up the child as she is only seven years old.”

“She won’t be seven forever.” Pirithous said.

“If I take Eleni as my bride, who shall you take for a wife?” Theseus asked. 

Pirithous looked up at Theseus from his spot between his legs and smirked. 

///

Eleni was terrified of the men who ripped her from her home and stole her from Sparta. They said they were taking her to her new home and that there was no need to be afraid, that Theseus was going to be her husband when she got older and that there would not be anything to fear, that Eleni just had to stay with his mother until she was old enough to marry.

Eleni didn’t want to marry; she just wanted her mother, her sister, her brothers. 

Eleni wanted to go home.

Eleni was scared.

Eleni wanted her mother, not the woman who told Eleni to stop crying and to call her mother instead.

“You must stop your crying. You are a daughter of Zeus, and you shall be Theseus’ wife. You must cease your tears; it will be easier if you do.” The woman said. 

Eleni did her best to stop crying, but tears still fell down her cheeks as she prayed to the Mother of Demigods to save her.

Her prayers were quiet at first, not wanting to risk the woman’s ire but then they grew in volume as her tears returned. 

“Stop that! Stop! You stupid child don’t you understand what you will do?!” The woman who called herself Eleni’s new mother screamed at her. 

The woman raised a hand to strike Eleni and she flinched back, raising her arms to cover her face and waited for the blow.

The blow never came. 

Eleni heard a snap and the woman screamed out.

Eleni dared to peek and saw the most beautiful lady standing between Eleni and her kidnapper’s mother. 

“Don’t you ever, ever, raise your hand to my child!” The pretty lady kept her voice low but the scary lady whimpered. 

The pretty lady turned to face Eleni and she knelt down to look Eleni in the eyes. 

Her hair was black as night with starry streaks and braided into loops. She didn’t wear a crown, she didn’t need to. Her eyes were the prettiest green and shifted like the waves of Poseidon’s seas. She wore a beautiful yet plain red chiton and an intricately woven white himation. 

Though she did not wear the red suns on her cheeks, the goddess had no need of them, for she wore the kisses on the Sun on her face. 

She was the most beautiful woman Eleni had ever seen.

“Are you okay, little one?” Her voice was gentle and sweet, Eleni wanted to hear her sing to see if it was just as beautiful as the priests say it was.

Eleni couldn’t say anything. 

She just surged forward and hugged the goddess in thankfulness and cried on her shoulder. 

The Mother of Demigods picked up Eleni effortlessly and kissed her cheek. 

“It’s all right now, I’m here.” Eleni’s hero said gently. “I’m taking you home now. It’s going to be okay.” 

“Thank you μητέρα!” Eleni hiccuped, not once loosening her hold on the goddess.

“Oh sweetheart,” Perseleia carried Eleni away. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” Pirithous asked. 

“I know of six ways to get into the Underworld; they were in between Athens and Troezen. The six gateways were guarded by the bandits and should still be unguarded.” Theseus said. “We shall get you your bride.” 

“Hades can have his pick of any goddess, Persephone is mine.” Pirithous grinned. 

Zagreus stood frozen in place as he overheard the men plot to kidnap his mother.

He had originally planned to find Aunt Perseleia and tell her how he had just helped his first soul be reborn; he felt her presence nearby Aphidna but he hadn’t learned to exactly appear near wherever he wanted to meet and was not surprised to be in the outskirts of the city. 

But these men were plotting and were on their way to the Underworld to kidnap his mother right now!

Zagreus was scared, he was angry, he felt helpless.

He felt…

Zagreus collapsed to his knees as he felt the pains in his stomach grow and then everything faded…

Zagreus woke in his room in the Underworld. 

He shot out of bed and ran to the throne room to find his father. 

“Father! Father!” Zagreus ran past servants and ghosts and ghouls. 

He bumped into Angelos and shouted an apology as he ran on. 

Styx called after him to slow down. 

Charon urged the prince to be careful.

“Father! Father!” Zagreus ran into the great hall, interrupting the judgements. 

Hades paused his judgement of a couple, summoning his son forward. 

“Zagreus are you alright?”

Mother was not on her throne!

“Where’s mother?!” Zagreus panted. “Where is she?!”

“What’s wrong?” Hades asked. 

“They-they’re coming!” Zagreus panted. 

“Who’s coming?” Hades asked. 

“They want to kidnap mama!” Zagreus cried. “Where’s mama!”

Hades’ face shifted from concerned to deadly calm. 

“Court is dismissed. Thanatos, go to your Queen and protect her. Charon, please take Zagreus to Hecate. Erinyes, come with me.” Hades stood to his full height.

///

Heracles believed himself to be blessed by the patron of demigods as he descended into the Underworld for his twelfth and final task: to retrieve Cerberus, the guardian of the gates of the Underworld. 

Nothing but the favor of the Lady of Mercy could have gotten him this far. 

Surely Perseleia herself was intervening on his behalf to the Queen of the gods. 

Heracles was a demigod, Perseleia was the goddess and patron of demigods.

By the time Heracles was led into the courtroom of the King and Queen, he had convinced himself that Loyalty herself was in love with him and wanted him to succeed in his quests out of love and adoration. Heracles was determined to find a way to make Perseleia his wife come hell or high water. 

Heracles would succeed where Apollo failed. 

Heracles, the son of Zeus, the great hero of Greece, would make Perseleia his wife.

“Pardon the absence of the King and Queen, they are dealing with a particular punishment that requires their direct supervision. What brings you to the Underworld?” Thanatos said.

“For my final task to purify myself of my wife and children’s murders, I have been requested by Eurythesus to bring back Cerberus.” Heracles stated. 

Thanatos blinked. 

“Oh. Well,” Thanatos looked to a beautiful goddess who shrugged. “Wait right here, let me go get Lord Hades for this. He and Persephone love Cerberus and this is a “them” request.” Thanatos said before leaving. 

Thanatos was gone a few moments before returning with Hades, who was covered in mortal blood and didn’t care that he was tracking it on the marble floors. 

“Thanatos tells me you have a task to complete?” Hades said, completely at ease with the blood.

“You have a little, ah-” Heracles couldn’t take his eyes off the blood. 

“It’s not mine.” Hades said, grinning cheerfully. “What do you need so I can go back to spending quality time with my wife and punishing prideful mortals who don’t know their place?”

“I have been tasked with bringing Cerberus to Eurystheus.” Heracles said. 

“Just don’t use weapons when you take him and make sure you use the leash with flowers on them.” Hades said.

“Seriously?” Heracles blinked. 

“Cerberus loves walks in the sun with Persephone. Now, I have a wife to return to.” Hades nodded at Thanatos and left. 

When Hades shut the door behind him, Heracles turned to Thanatos.

“Is he always covered in blood?” He asked. 

“No. This is a special occasion.” Thanatos smiled cruelly. “Now if that will be all, Cerberus is by the Tartarus gates.”

Cerberus was rather excited by the prospect of getting a walk and eagerly allowed himself to be led out of the Underworld by Heracles. 

Just around the bend, Heracles and Cerberus came across a man sitting on a boulder. 

“Hail, friend.” Heracles said. “Why do you cry?” 

“I cry because my friend Pirithous was taken by the King of the Underworld himself and is punished severely for his hubris; I tried to persuade him not to attempt to kidnap the Queen but he wouldn’t listen to reason. I sat down because I was tired but that was months ago and I cannot move.” The man said mournfully. 

“That is indeed a sad tale.” Heracles said, studying the boulder. “Do you want me to try and remove you from it?”

“I fear only the great Heracles and his strength could save me.” The man sighed. 

“Fate is on your side my friend. I am he.” Heracles said, placing one foot on the boulder, and grabbing the man with his arms and pulling. 

The man stood on shaky legs once he was free and looked at Heracles in amazement.

“Thank you, great hero!” The man said.

“You are most welcome; what is your name?” Heracles said. 

“Theseus.” Theseus answered. 

“Fate and Loyalty smiles upon us both! Shall we go and rescue your friend Pirithous from his tormentors?” Heracles asked. 

“I am afraid that is beyond either of us. Pirithous’ pride was too high a price to pay.” Theseus said.

“Come Theseus, tell me of your exploits as we return to the surface.” Heracles said.

Theseus grinned as he headed towards the surface. “Wonderful.” 

///

Percy was exhausted these past years cleaning up Heracles’ and Theseus’ messes, all she wanted was to have a few boring years where there were no misogynistic heroes  wrecking her peace.

Percy entered the aerie and immediately made herself at home, grabbing some cheese and an apple to eat. 

“Mother! I’m he-” Percy froze. 

Before her were two boys about ten and twelve sitting on a couch in the aerie.

Athene turned her head around 180, saw that Percy was there, and immediately flew off of the older boy’s knee to perch on Percy’s shoulders and groom her hair. 

The boys and Percy stared at each other, not understanding why the other was there. 

In a battle of wills, that Percy lost because the awkwardness was stressing her out, made the first move. 

“Hello?” She said, mouth full of food, and waved with what fingers she could since her hands were full of cheese. 

“You’re Perseleia, aren’t you.” The elder boy said. 

Percy nodded.

“Lady Athena had to run an errand to Lady Demeter but she said she would return shortly. Could you teach us chess?” The boy said. 

“Uh, sure?” Percy swallowed her bite of apple and got over her shock. “Who am I teaching?”

“I’m Diomedes of Argos.” The twelve year old got up and bowed. “At your service.” 

That answered one question… and the other?

“I am Odysseus of Ithaca.” The boy, now that Percy had walked over, had a blue eye and a brown eye that reminded her of Paul. He was quieter than Diomedes. He also had bandages wrapped around his leg. 

“A pleasure to meet you two. Have you boys eaten?” Perseleia asked. 

“Lady Athena wanted to have a feast where we were all introduced.” Diomedes answered. 

“Ah, well I wouldn’t want to ruin your appetites.” Percy got out the chessboard and the pieces. “Odysseus, what happened to your leg?”

“There was a boar. I killed it but it got my leg.” Odysseus said softly.

“You were very lucky; boars are nothing to be trifled with.” Percy said, impressed with a ten year old’s ability to survive such an attack. “Now, your pawns always begin as they are blocking your other pieces. They can move forward one space or two, but each time you move that pawn from that moment on, they can only move one.” 

///

Heracles tore at his skin, exposing his bones, in an effort to get the acidic and poisonous shirt off of him. 

It was agony.

It was pain.

Heracles didn’t know who poisoned him but it couldn't be Deianira; she didn’t have the knowledge or the means to do so. It couldn’t have been Philoctetes who had done it, he was his friend. 

In a haze, with flesh melting off his body, Heracles built himself a funeral pyre and laid himself upon it. 

“Light it. LIGHT IT!” Heracles begged. 

He laid there until Philoctetes caved into his request and lit the pyre with Heracles still living as the flames licked his skin. 

The flames were soft. 

Then burning.

Then nothing.

The next time Heracles opened his eyes, he was in the most beautiful city he had ever seen, standing before the God King himself. 

“Father!” Heracles knelt before him. 

“My son,” Zeus placed a hand on his head. “Come, we must introduce you to the pantheon.” 

There were feasts celebrating the new god. 

A week long of celebration all for Heracles but he searched the crowds for the one face he longed to see. 

He saw various sea deities, but he had yet to see the goddess he intended to wife. 

Then the doors opened.

Athena entered first; his godly sister dressed in her glory, her dark hair was curled and had a silver diadem, engraved and forged to be an owl in flight upon her locks. Her grey eyes sharp and zeroed in on him the instant she entered the room, sizing him up, most likely calculating how to take down Heracles in a fight. Her shield and spear were not in her hands but she still wore her silver breastplate which had the appearance of owl feathers. 

Then she walked in.

Her dress resembled the crashing Aegean waves her father ruled over. With each step, the various shades of blues in her peplos rippled and shimmered. The pale himation resembling the surf as it wrapped around her shoulders the way Heracles will eventually do. Her face was littered with dark freckles that shone brighter than the stars in Artemis’ night sky. Her green eyes were more enchanting in person. Her black and silver curls were held back by a diadem carved out of pearl and hidden underneath a pale blue veil. 

Once Heracles married her, she’d wear gold to match his lion skin.

She was beautiful. 

She was elegant. 

She was going to be his. 

As Perseleia walked with her mother, Heracles followed her steps with his eyes; he was a hunter and she was his prey but like all the others, Athena and Perseleia would have to come to the main table with Zeus and Heracles to pay their respects to the new god.

Athena spoke with their father, but Heracles didn’t listen.

He couldn’t when Perseleia’s eyes were on him. 

He didn’t understand why she would not smile at him.

“Why do they serve Apollo’s son before me?” Heracles asked. 

“Because he was made a god first and therefore greater than you.” Zeus said. 

“But I am your son!” Heracles protested. 

“And that still does not change the fact that Apollo’s son rose to join us before you did.” Zeus shut down the argument. 

There was more feasting, but Perseleia did not come back to speak with him; she stayed by Athena’s side or joined her father’s table or reclined at Apollo’s. 

Heracles fumed silently as he watched his future wife cavorting with someone else, someone with a lesser son. 

Eventually, Zeus stood. 

“Welcome, one and all, to the celebration of the new gods among us: Asclepius, son of Apollo and of Perseleia, god of medicine, healing, rejuvenation and physicians.”

Every god clapped for the god who was introduced as his future wife’s son; Heracles’ only consolation was that Perseleia did not hold affection for him and carried the healer god out of prophetic necessity and duty.

“And Heracles, my son, god of strength and heroes.” Zeus said once the applause for Asclepius died down. 

Heracles grinned smugly towards Perseleia but her applause was half hearted. 

“Gods have the choice of marriage or staying unwed; Asclepius has already chosen his wife. Which goddess shall my son have for his wife?” Zeus asked. 

Heracles laughed heartily and stood. 

“There is only one goddess I would take for my wife; it is only fitting that the goddess of demigods and the god of heroes marry. I will have Perseleia to wife.” Heracles looked right at his chosen bride. 

Her face was pale in shock. 

Athena’s face was horrified as placed an arm in front of her daughter as if to shield her from Heracles.

Poseidon’s trident clanged loudly over the cacophony that erupted shortly after Heracles’ demand.

Then Heracles felt his joints start to ache. A low, dull pain spread throughout his muscles. Old scars started to itch. It soon became more difficult to breathe; not that his air supply was cut off, but that it was difficult and every inhale felt as if there was a great beast sitting upon his chest.

Heracles initially glared at the table that Apollo was at but was met with a burning stare of the sun god; heat began to beat upon Heracles. The sun’s rays that were once warm, were now scorching. 

Apollo wasn’t the one who was causing pain upon him.

Asclepius, seated between Leto and his wife, glared at Heracles with the viciousness of a serpent. 

There were shouts of “that’s not fair” and “the insolence” and other words that Heracles didn’t hear because Zeus then let a huge clap of thunder loose so as to try and bring back order. 

Athena stood from her table. 

“Father, I have held off securing a vow from your son out of respect for the celebrations but this has gone on long enough! I demand Heracles’ vow not to touch my daughter and need I remind you of your own promise?” Athena said; her voice like the ring of a knife from its sheath. 

“Heracles, I know you desire Perseleia for a wife, but Athena is right. You will swear an oath never to pursue her, just like every other god has before you. Is there perhaps another bride you could take? Hebe, perhaps! It is about time she got married.” Zeus gestured to his daughter who was pouring nectar, opposite Ganymede, to Ares. 

Hebe had frozen under the attention of everyone. 

Ares didn’t lash out at her when his cup overflowed; he merely took the chalice of ambrosia from his sister’s quivering hands.

Hebe was beautiful and youthful, but not who Heracles wanted. 

Heracles heard a goblet shatter and turned to see Hera, glass drawing golden ichor from her palm, uncertain of who to be more angry at: Zeus or Heracles.

Athena held off securing his oath because of the celebration…

If Heracles could stall the celebrations longer by marrying Hebe, then Athena couldn’t get him to swear against never taking Loyalty because then he’d marry Hebe and lay with her. Athena could not bother him while he did that out of decorum and therefore bought Heracles more time to take Loyalty for himself.

Grinning at his plan, Heracles turned to Zeus.

“I promise to swear Athena’s oath, but can it wait until after my marriage to Hebe takes place?”

Athena opened her mouth to object but Zeus silenced her. 

“Of course! Hera, get Hebe ready for the wedding.” Zeus decreed. 

Hera’s brown eyes were full of silent rage and anger as she rose from her seat to fetch Hebe from her duties. 

Ares, ever considerate, followed them out; Heracles mused that Ares must like him as a brother if he were to go to such lengths to guard his new bride. 

The wedding was charming, if a little gauche. 

There was only so much that could be done on such little notice. 

Athena was determined to keep Heracles’ preferred bride as far away from him as possible throughout the ceremony but it was no matter; Heracles would have her. 

Hebe was quiet as she said her vows. 

Heracles said his.

There was more feasting and drinking but Heracles could feel the glares at the back of his head; Hera, Ares, Aphrodite, Athena, they all glared at him for various reasons but only Athena made her reasons known.

Heracles managed to stay near his bride or near his father to avoid speaking Athena’s vow.

Then Heracles and Hebe retired to his temple. 

Hebe was silent and stiff as a corpse as he had his way with her and he couldn’t help but wonder how Perseleia would be laid out under him instead. If Hebe was insulted he didn’t say her name as he finished, she didn’t say anything.

She just rolled over. 

Heracles let her.

He had another wife to catch. 

Heracles left his temple and his newest wife to go hunt for his next one.

Apollo’s chariot has not risen yet, so Heracles didn’t have to worry about him overseeing. 

It was also the changing of the seasons, where Persephone would return to Hades and Perseleia returned to the sea.

Heracles stealthily made his way towards Athena’s temple when he couldn’t believe his luck: there was the Athenide, strolling through the fields of the mortal world, and not even the safety of her father’s or mother’s temple, with her otters bounding behind her and a red fox slinking between her legs as she gazed up at the stars.

Quickly, so he could make her his without any interference, Heracles appeared behind her and covered her mouth so she couldn’t scream as he carried her off. 

The insufferable otters screamed as they awkwardly ran after them; their screams sounding like the cries of children.

The fox bounded after them, much faster than the otters, with a scream of its own. 

Once Heracles made her his wife, he’d skin the animals and give their pelts to her as a wedding gift. 

Perseleia kicked and struggled against his hold but he held fast until the fox darted forward and sunk its teeth around his heel. 

Heracles loosened his hold just enough for Perseleia to scream. 

“APOL-” Heracles quickly muffled her once more after kicking the fox away where it did not get up.

“He’s not going to save you. No one is.” Heracles said in her ear. “I wanted a bed but a field would do.” 

Before Heracles’ could do anything, an arrow of pure sunlight pierced his wrist; the pain of it surprised him enough to drop Perseleia, who took off running as fast as she could away from him.

Heracles roared, ripped the arrow out of his wrist, and took off after his intended. 

The rays of dawn broke through the night. 

Apollo rode bareback on one of the sun horses; his bow raised and drawn.

This time, Heracles batted the arrow away with his hand, though his palm was severely burned. 

Apollo urged the horse to ride faster, another arrow docked. 

The talons of some large bird snapped at Heracles’ shoulders, drawing golden ichor and flesh as it flew ahead; a great silver owl, greater than any normal bird, transformed into the goddess Athena. Her silver spear in her hand, Aegis, her shield, in the other, and glittering armor.

She stood between Heracles and his fleeing wife and she was going to know pain.

“Halt Heracles!” Athena ordered. 

“No!” Heracles snarled and was prepared to fight.

Athena nodded. 

Heracles assumed she meant to fight him but three prongs of a trident exit out of his chest; Poseidon had stabbed him in the back to subdue him.

“I should chop you in a thousand pieces and throw you in chaos like Helios for what you have done to my daughter!” Poseidon snarled. 

Heracles laughed madly as he coughed up blood. 

“She was asking for it.” He said, damning his fate. 

Once Apollo saw Athena enter the fray, he slung his bow over his shoulders and focused on getting Perseleia to safety. 

“Faster Aeos, faster!” Apollo urged the steed. 

Aeos galloped as fast as he could towards Perseleia.

When Aeos’ hooves reached the earth and fire was left in his wake, Perseleia reached out to him and took his outstretched hand, easily hoisting the goddess up behind him. 

“Are you all right?” Apollo asked. 

“He killed my fox!” Perseleia buried her face in his tunic and cried. 

Apollo felt fury rise up in him; in a moment of pure pettiness and vengeance, Apollo redrew his bow and shot another arrow full of the heat of the sun and fired it in Heracles’ bare ass; burning the flesh to blacken char and cursing it to never heal.

Apollo guided Aeos into the warm orange of the rising sun; the sun horse’s hooves no longer scorched the earth, instead bringing upon the dawn as he rose into the sky. 

Perseleia clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his chest and her tears trailed down his back. 

Olympus woke to the sight of Perseleia wrapped in the light of the sun upon one of Apollo’s sun horses. At first thought, they believed Perseleia to have accepted a suit from the love-struck god. Then they looked closer: her veil was ripped, her diadem gone, her dress from what they saw was muddy and torn, her shoulders shuddered as tears streaked her cheeks and she pulled Apollo’s cloak tighter around her as if to shield herself from the stares. 

Apollo barely contained his fury and everyone could feel the heat of the sun beat down upon the earth below. 

He led her to Asclepius’ temple; the god rushed forward in concern at seeing his mother in such a state.

Gently, Apollo held out his arms for the goddess and helped her down from the sun horse, who nickered softly and pressed his nose into her back. Apollo wrapped an arm around her and with his son, led Loyalty into the temple. 

Rhodes, upon looking out of her father’s temple, ran towards Asclepius’.

Hebe watched this all with a look of anger though no one could tell who it was for. 

No sooner had Perseleia been led inside, Athena and Poseidon led Heracles through the streets of Olympus, golden ichor dripping from the prongs of the trident still embedded in Heracles’ torso.

No one but the Olympians and Hebe were present for the following trial. 

Hebe shook with anger as she stayed by Aphrodite’s side, being held by her kind brother’s lover as Ares stood before Hebe to shield her from Heracles’ sight.

Aphrodite whispered words of comfort to her but Hebe could only feel anger and resentment; why wasn’t she enough? Why did she have to be married to him? Why would her father do this to her? Why not someone else? Why was Hebe pregnant with his children? Why?

She wanted to shout. 

She wanted to rage. 

Hebe looked to her mother and understood her mother in a new, agonizing way.

All the times Hebe didn’t understand her mother before, she now did. 

Hera, who had pushed Hebe into the specific role she had to perform, it wasn’t a punishment; it was an attempt to shield her from marriage, from a husband just like Zeus.

Hebe’s heart broke for her mother.

Athena, Poseidon, Demeter, Apollo, Artemis, Hera, Dionysus, Ares, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades; all voted for Heracles to go into exile, some island far away where he would be confined for all eternity. He would never be able to leave. 

“Hebe shall go with him as she is-”

“No.” Hebe hissed. 

“Excuse me?” Zeus turned his stormy eyes upon Hebe but Hebe didn’t feel fear like all the times before; no, she was angry. 

“I refuse to be treated by my husband the way my mother is treated by you! I demand a divorce and full custody of our sons!” Hebe demanded. 

Zeus was about to protest but Hera interrupted him. 

“Hebe never wanted to marry. You made her. If she goes, then Hebe takes the youth of the gods with her.” Hera fixed Zeus with a pointed look. 

Outvoted, Zeus could only exile Heracles and Hebe returned with Aphrodite’s temple so the goddess could comfort her and assist her throughout her pregnancy.

Apollo didn’t know how else to comfort her but Perseleia had stopped crying.

Her wounds had been tended to yet her fair skin bruised darkly under the tight grasp Heracles had pinned her; Apollo winced as he remembered the times he had fought with his half brother. 

“Well, I guess this would be a good excuse to not become a bride.” Perseleia jested. 

“For the record, you would make a lovely bride.” Apollo said, trying to lighten her spirits.

“What a shame I’m fucked in the head.” Perseleia chuckled at her dark joke.

“Don’t say that.” Apollo knelt before her. “Please don’t say that. You are a goddess many would love to have as their bride. Any god would be lucky if you chose them as your suitor.” 

“Apollo,” Perseleia lowered her gaze. 

“Perseleia, I-” His vow kept him from saying the words he so desperately needed her to know. “You are my friend. My feelings for you- you are-”

“I know.” Perseleia said softly.

Apollo sighed and was silent for a moment. 

“Have the children been born yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Why can you not tell me about them?”

“I don’t want you to have any spoilers. They will be your greatest joys, I can tell you that.” Perseleia said.

“I have to go to the meeting. Your father and mother called an emergency session to deal with Heracles’ crimes. I assure you, he will be dealt with. Never again shall he feel the soft warmth of my sun for what he has done to you.” Apollo promised. 

“You’re going to give him sunburns?” That elicited a small smile from her lips. 

“I shall.” Apollo vowed. “Asclepius and Epione shall tend to your healing. Rhodes should return with some salt water shortly.” 

He turned to leave but he felt her soft hand reach out to his. 

“You came.” She said sincerely. “Thank you.”

“You called.” Apollo said, hoping she understood he loved her with those two words. 

Apollo had the most vicious smile upon his face as he and Artemis voted for his exile. 

Every day from that day forth, Apollo used Heracles’ ass as a target for archery practice.

///

King Lycomedes had heard stories of Theseus, son of Aegeus, and none of them were good. 

He heard about how Theseus had kidnapped Princess Eleni of Sparta and Antiope of the Amazons. He heard of how Theseus had absconded with Princesses Ariadne and Phaedra of Crete and left Ariadne for dead. He heard rumors of all the other unnamed women Theseus had wronged throughout his travels. 

The priests warned him that should Theseus stay alive, the patron goddesses of Athens shall be angry. 

King Lycomedes welcomed the exiled king when he arrived in his court. 

He heard a cleverly spun tale of how Theseus was a poor man, his throne stolen from him, his friend in his hubris convinced him to steal daughters of Zeus for brides, his imprisonment in the Underworld; and all the while, Theseus would glance at his young daughters behind his throne. 

King Lycomedes understood then that Theseus was not garnering sympathy from him, but from his daughters. 

It was at that moment, King Lycomedes felt on a deep, parental level, that for the safety of his daughters, Theseus needed to die.

Pretending nothing was wrong, King Lycomedes offered to show Theseus around the island.

Theseus accepted, unaware of his ulterior motives, followed him.

The priests have whispered of Poseidon’s rescinded favor years ago, and King Lycomedes prayed they were not wrong as he pushed Theseus off the cliff.

When King Lycomedes saw for himself that Theseus was dead, he sighed in relief that his daughters were safe.

That night, he sacrificed two bulls to Wisdom and Loyalty.

Chapter Text

When it came time for Helen to marry, suitors from all over Greece came in pursuit of her hand or sent envoys on their behalf. Fearing war should break out if one suitor was chosen above all the others, Tyndareus accepted no gifts nor did he turn any suitors away. Odysseus offered to solve this matter by having each suitor swear an oath to uphold the marriage.

Eleni looked out at the many suitors that came to Sparta to vie for her hand from the balcony; men, kings, had come from all over Greece to petition for her to be their Queen. 

Her cousin Penelope sat at the loom and wove what would be Eleni’s wedding robes. 

“There are so many.” Eleni watched as her brothers broke up a fight between some of the suitors.

“You are very beautiful and you are a daughter of Zeus.” Penelope said softly.

“The god King may be my sire but Tyndareus is my father.” Eleni turned from the window and moved to stand behind her cousin. “What if there is a war? What if I don’t love him? What if I end up like Clytemnestra? What if-”

“What if you marry and you love him?” A voice Eleni hadn’t heard in years spoke behind her. 

The two Spartan princesses jumped and turned to see the most beautiful goddess standing in Eleni’s room. 

Perseleia, wrapped in lilac robes and her feather cloak, looked every bit a queen. Her golden diadem held her rich purple veil in place as her curls cascaded over her shoulders like waves on the shore. The dark kohl around her eyes made them more vibrant, more green, more ethereal than Eleni remembered them to be but the kindness never left.

“Mother!” Eleni cried and rushed forward to embrace her savior, her patroness, the only god she recognized as her godly parent. “The King and Queen will be pleased to know you are here! If you want them to know you are here, that is. This is my cousin Penelope!”

Eleni introduced Penelope in a rush; the poor girl too shocked there was a god in front of her. 

Perseleia looked at Penelope and Eleni thought she saw a flicker of surprise and longing in the goddess’ eyes. 

“Penelope!” Perseleia held out her hand for her as if greeting her like an old friend or a cousin after long years apart. 

Hesitantly, Penelope took it. 

“Penelope, Eleni, both your husbands are here. Great men, loyal men. Men whose love for you will be spoken of by poets and artists for thousands of years. Men who will never betray you or abandon you.” Perseleia said, soothing Eleni’s fears. 

Penelope looked surprised. 

“My husband is here? But I am not-” Penelope stammered. 

“Your husband saw you in the gardens and prayed for my help to win your hand. He originally thought he had seen Eleni because he was so stricken at the sight of you.” Perseleia cupped Penelope’s cheek. “He was overcome with grief when he thought he had no hope of winning your hand but was determined to do his best to try. He was so grateful to hear you were not Eleni for that meant he had less competition.” 

Then Perseleia ran her fingers through Eleni’s red curls like she did as a child. 

“Your husband, my dear light, is honorable and will uphold your oaths. He will be your partner, your lover, and your friend. He has not asked for my help in wooing you as he wants to win your hand not through your father's favor, but through yours and of his own merits.” Perseleia smiled at the two princesses. “Do not worry my girls, you shall be just fine.” 

Perseleia kissed Eleni’s forehead and then she kissed Penelope’s.

“You have my blessing. Call to me, if you ever need aid, and I shall be there.” Perseleia disappeared, leaving behind some feathers and a sea breeze in her wake.

Eleni felt giddy. 

“He’s here! He’s honorable! He’ll love me!” Eleni jumped for joy and spun with her arms outstretched. “Oh who could he be? You don’t think it could be that son of Heracles do you? I would hate for my father in law to be that brute. Or that man who’s the son of Pirithous; father would have thrown him out had he known it was his father who had kidnapped me alongside Theseus.”

Penelope sat at the loom, bewildered. 

“Someone… someone wants me?” Penelope couldn’t believe it. 

Eleni went to her cousin and took her hands in hers.

“You listen to me, Penelope: you are beautiful and you are clever and you are kind. Anyman would be lucky to have you as a wife and I cannot wait to meet the man who Loyalty herself blessed as your husband.” Eleni cupped her chin and made her cousin look her in the eyes; Penelope’s river blue eyes and her pointed ears were just as godly as Eleni’s fiery hair, powerful voice, and ability to call eagles to her hand. “Loyalty herself has said that our husbands will love us so fiercely that it will be spoken of millennia after our deaths.” 

Penelope gave her cousin a faint smile. 

“Fame isn’t always a good thing.” Penelope said.

“No, but at least we will be loved.” Eleni said.

“I suppose I can trust the word of a goddess.” Penelope relented. 

“Good. I trust my godmother’s word.” Eleni said, flopping on her bed. “Now tell me which suitor you think is yours!”

Odysseus nervously tapped his fingers against the scar on his leg as he thought. 

Athena didn’t know why he was so nervous about pursuing Penelope of Sparta; Odysseus had been a King for years, he ruled with wisdom, cleverness, and wit in his father’s place with the guidance of his parents and under the tutelage of Wisdom herself. 

Odysseus was a friend to Loyalty, who had claimed him as a young brother of sorts.

Odysseus could have any pick of his bride and yet he was scared witless at the thought of speaking to the Spartan royal himself. 

“Neither Tyndareus or Icarius would accept a suit for Penelope before Eleni is betrothed.” Athena said. “You have to have Eleni safely married and your suit made known before other suitors cast their sights upon Penelope.” 

“Tyndareus will not chose; not with the threat of war from spurned suitors or a murder of the groom.” Odysseus said.

Athena raised her eyebrow, encouraging him to continue.

“So like you did in securing your daughter’s safety, so shall Tyndareus do to secure Eleni’s: an oath to uphold and protect her marriage.” 

“There leaves room for interpretation, little snake.” Athena said. 

“If Eleni’s marriage is threatened, then all the suitors shall come to the aid of the groom. There will be no threat of violence if there is the guise of equality, and there can be no anger towards the King if Eleni is the one to choose.” Odysseus said, plotting how he could present this plan to Tyndareus so he could win Penelope’s hand.

Athena nodded, proud of her protege. 

“Clever boy.” Athena ruffled his hair the way she saw Perseleia do the younger children; Odysseus and Diomedes seemed to like it, or at least, they haven’t said anything to the contrary. 

Athena watched from the shadows in the form of a barn owl as the suitors once again presented their cases to King Tyndareus for Eleni of Sparta’s hand. 

One by one, they spoke, leaving only Odysseus and a handful of other suitors remaining. 

Odysseus stepped forward to the King. 

“King Tyndareus, you do not pick a suitor for Eleni because you do not want to offend anyone or give cause for quarrel; I have a solution to your problem.” Odysseus stated, clearly and calmly; though Athena knew he was nervous as could be since Tyndareus had Eleni seated on his left and Penelope on his right. 

“I welcome any advice, Odysseus of Ithaca.” King Tyndareus said. 

“I will give it, only if you swear to me that you will speak on my behalf when I petition King Icarius for Penelope’s hand.” Odysseus said. 

Athena watched as Eleni’s lips curled into a smile and her eyes darted over to her cousin; Penelope, dressed in the deep greens of the fields, was frozen under the declaration of a suit. 

“Very well, King Odysseus. I shall support your suit for my niece. Now tell me, how shall I choose Eleni’s groom?”

“You don’t.” Odysseus said.

Shouts and cries of indignation filled the halls before Tyndareus called for order. 

“Explain yourself!” 

“I shall. You do not want to offend anyone by choosing or risking a war so your answer is simple: make all Princess Eleni’s suitors swear an oath to respect her choice of groom, to protect her marriage, and should any bold enough to disrespect her marriage, to answer the call to arms if needed. Once the oath is sworn, Princess Eleni will choose her husband.” Odysseus said. 

Athena puffed up her feathers in pride at her pupil’s cleverness. 

Tyndareus considered Odysseus’ words and ordered a priest to come and make a sacrifice to Lady Styx and and her daughter for the oath to be sworn; a fine horse was sacrificed and each suitor, including her Odysseus, had the priest paint their wrist in the warm blood as each swore an oath to defend Princess Eleni’s chosen husband against whoever should quarrel with him and threaten their marriage. Before gods, men, and the Princess, the oaths were accepted and sealed in blood.

“You have all sworn to protect my daughter’s marriage. I pray now you accept her choice.” King Tyndareus said. 

Athena watched in curiosity as he sat down upon his throne and gestured for Eleni to make her decision known. 

“You are all wonderful and charming suitors; I am honored I have received such worthy suits, but the one who has my heart is,” Eleni twisted the rings on her fingers in nervousness. 

Every suitor was on edge, waiting for her to declare her husband. 

“Menelaus.” Eleni gave a bashful smile towards the Mycenaean Prince. 

Instead of reacting in rage or yelling at the Princess to “pick me” or “choose me,” the suitors all reacted in a celebratory cheer.

Athena watched as Menelaus was clapped on his back in good jest and she watched as Odysseus bowed before Penelope. 

It would be a month until Gamelion, but that was enough for Eleni to know that she had made the correct choice in choosing Menelaus for a spouse; he only grinned like a man victorious when she pinned him in boxing, he laughed with her as they raced their horses across the Spartan fields, and upon learning the Mother of Demigods herself taught her how to wield a blade, Menelaus returned to her with her most prized wedding gift: a Celestial Bronze dagger with a gorgeously polished wooden hilt and a triangular blade that was so polished, Eleni could see her reflection. 

“It’s beautiful!” Eleni took the dagger out of its leather sheath and was stunned by the craftsmanship. 

“I made a sacrifice to your Godmother, asking for guidance on what to give you for our wedding.” Menelaus turned as red as his hair. “She appeared to me with this; commissioned by her and forged by Lord Hephaestus and blessed by Lord Apollo.” 

Eleni was admiring the sharpness of the blade when the light upon it rippled and she saw a brief scene in which there were three goddesses and a youth, held out a golden apple to- 

The scene faded but Eleni knew something was to happen, something that would involve Queen Hera, Lady Athena, and her godmother.

“Oh Menelaus, I love it! I shall name it Katoptris!” Eleni was so overcome with happiness that she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. “You can protect me from mortal monsters, and I can protect you from godly monsters!” 

Eleni wanted to make sure that Penelope was enjoying her engagement just as much as she was when she saw her Godmother speaking in hushed tones to Penelope on the other side of the gardens; a most curious bow in her hands. 

Penelope looked stunned as Perseleia held out the bow to Penelope and then vanished. 

“What did Godmother say?” Eleni bounded over. 

“She-she gave me a gift.” Penelope ran her fingers across the wood of the bow. 

“An interesting gift.” Eleni crinkled her nose; Penelope preferred daggers and spears to archery. 

“She said it is fashioned from the wood of the first olive tree, her mother’s olive tree, by Lord Apollo himself.” Penelope looked up at Eleni in amazement. “Your Godmother has blessed it so none but my husband can string it.” 

“Odysseus is an archer, correct?” Eleni asked. 

“Indeed! Oh, I hope he likes this gift!” Penelope blushed. 

“He shall.” Eleni stated. “Loyalty has claimed him as her brother, did she not? Wisdom herself guides him as a second mother to him. Even the Far Shooting Twins have taught him his preferred weapon. Odysseus is a trickster but he is highly spoken for by his divine patrons. I do not doubt he will love anything you present him.” 

Proaulia came with feasting. 

Eleni and Penelope sacrificed their toys to Lady Artemis as a thank you for protecting them throughout their childhood, a lock of their hair: fiery from Eleni and a dark curl from Penelope to Lady Athena so that they may grow in wisdom, and their girdles to Lady Aphrodite as thanks for bringing them husbands that they love.

Gamos came with much anticipation. 

Both Eleni and Penelope were bathed and purified before being led by their families to their grooms. 

Menelaus and Odysseus were there at the temple of Athenide Areia and each held their arm out for their bride to be led inside. There they made offerings to the goddess to protect their marriage and preserve the fruitful life they will share. 

There was more feasting until then it was time for anakalypteria: the removal of the bride’s veil. 

Menelaus would join Eleni and they would take the Spartan thrones upon her parent’s abdication; it was only natural to retire to her chambers. 

Odysseus was from Ithaca so he would join Penelope in hers before he took her to Ithaca and she was formally taken into his household. 

Both grooms led their brides to their chariots where all of Sparta lined the way to the palace; some with torches to light the way and others dried fruits and nuts to shower the newlyweds and bless them with fertility and prosperity. 

When they arrived at the palace, Eleni and Penelope were taken to their respective chambers by their mothers. 

Eleni felt excited and the anticipation was killing her. 

“Are you okay?” Leda asked, worry etched in her face. 

“I am just so excited. I truly love Menelaus!” Eleni glowed with happiness. 

“And you remember what I told you?” Leda asked. 

“Yes, mother.” Eleni blushed. 

“Good.” Leda sighed. “Now, your Godmother wishes to speak to you. Best not keep her waiting.” 

Leda cupped her daughter’s cheek; red with the red suns and her elation from the wedding. 

She kissed her daughter’s forehead and then opened the chamber doors. 

Inside, Eleni saw her Godmother and rushed to her side. 

“Oh my sweet light,” Perseleia hugged her back. “I promise you that I will protect your marriage.” 

“I know, Godmother!” Eleni beamed up at her. 

“Are you ready?”

Eleni nodded, then paused. 

“Menelaus will be loyal to me, right? He says he loves me but is he true? I won’t end up like Clytemnestra?” Eleni asked. 

“Eleni, I promise you, Menelaus’ eyes and heart belong to you and you alone. None shall cause his loyalty to waver just as none shall cause yours to shake.” Perseleia promised. “Now, you have a groom to meet.” 

Her Godmother winked at her and then vanished with a sea breeze. 

Normally Spartan women would be captured and dressed as men, complete with their head shaved, so as to ease Spartan men into marriage with a woman and it would usually be long after the couple had children together before they saw each other in the daylight. Menelaus had no issue with Eleni being his bride nor had his eye wander to any of her other suitors or raised concerns about her age being eighteen rather than the younger age in which other cities married their girls. 

Eleni looked in her mirror; dressed in the sea greens and blues of her Godmother and golden jewelry gifted to her by her now husband, Eleni worried that Menelaus would regret marrying her. After all, wouldn’t he want someone younger? Would he not want to see her as they became man and wife? Would he-

No.

Her Godmother blessed her marriage and vouched for Menelaus. 

Eleni turned from her mirror and lifted up her skirts, unsheathing Katoptris from its sheath, hoping to understand the vision that plagued her beloved knife. 

The torch light rippled the surface and once again, Eleni saw the field, the sheep and their boy shepherd but not his face. Eleni saw the Queen of Heavens and her godly step-mother Hera in all her beauty. She saw Athena, severe and cross as she debated fiercely with the youth; her words unheard. She saw, now that she studied the scene, not her Godmother; her Godmother would never wear such sheer silks or lounge seductively, fabric only a small breeze from exposing the modesty of the goddess Eleni held so dear. Once again, the youth held in his hands a golden apple. 

Just as Eleni was about to see who he would give it too, she heard the door to her chambers creak open. 

Eleni startled and pressed herself against her wall, dagger at the ready, just like she did every night since her rescue from Theseus and Pirithous; never again, she swore, would she ever be abducted from the safety of her home. Never again would Eleni be as helpless as she was then. 

The footsteps came closer.

What if it wasn’t Menelaus?

Closer…

What if it was another vile monster here to carry Eleni off to be their bride instead?

The shadow on the floor was growing. 

Eleni’s heart pounded fiercely and her breath hitched; her white knuckle grasp on her dagger reminded her that she was not without protection.

“Eleni, light of my life, I am here.” Menelaus called out gently to her. 

Eleni let out a sob and dropped her dagger with a clang as she ran to her groom. 

“Eleni are you- I got you, love.” Menelaus held her in his arms as she cried in relief it was only him and not someone else, someone far more sinister. 

“I-I thought- I know they’re dead but-” Eleni couldn’t articulate her fears but Menelaus understood her perfectly. 

“Shall I secure your chambers?” Menelaus asked. 

Eleni nodded as he wiped her tears with his cloak. 

“Okay.” He said with a kiss to her brow. 

Menelaus drew his sword and checked everywhere for a potential intruder, a kidnapper, the monsters that plagued Eleni’s nightmares and found none. 

“You’re safe. There is none here but us.” Menelaus said softly. 

“And if I wake in the night? The nightmares-” 

“Then I will light a torch and search every shadow where a thief could possibly hide once more. I protect you from mortal threats, you protect me from godly threats, remember?” Menelaus picked up Katoptris and handed it back to Eleni. 

“I remember.” Eleni took it once more. 

Menelaus sheathed his sword before saying, “we don’t have to do this tonight. Not if you’re uncomfortable.” 

Eleni shook her head. 

“No, I want to.” She said. 

With trembling fingers, heightened nerves, and giddiness, Eleni removed the pins and brooches from Menelaus and he undid the pins from hers. Slowly, they undressed until his sword and belt lay on her vanity next to her knife in its sheath. 

They let out soft giggles as they shed layer by layer until all that was left was Eleni’s veil. 

Eleni let out an embarrassed breath as Menelaus dropped to his knees before her in awe. With trembling hands, Eleni lifted her diadem in one hand and took her veil in the other. 

Eleni then presented the shimmering blue veil, Penelope’s talent with weaving made it seem as if it were actually her Godmother’s waters, to her husband, her Menelaus. 

Menelaus reverently took the veil and set it aside. 

“Should we have daughters, they shall wear this upon their wedding days.” He said sincerely. 

He then took her hand and went to bed. 

Epaulia had Eleni and Penelope’s families presenting gifts to the now married women and their husbands.  

It was also the last time Eleni would see her cousin before she left with Odysseus to his homeland. 

Eleni’s hand held her husband’s and her smiles were bright only for him. 

Penelope’s cheeks were flushed as Odysseus fed her slices of apples and pomegranate pips. 

When it was time for Penelope and Odysseus to return to Ithaca, Eleni pulled her cousin into a hug and kissed her cheek goodbye. 

///

It had been decades since her daughter had walked in the streets of her birthplace and Athena was determined to never let such a long time pass again. 

“I have been waiting to show you this for years, owlet.” Athena had not felt such giddiness since she first commissioned her daughter's temple. 

“I told you I would never step in Athens so long as that monster was king.” Perseleia huffed as she followed Athena. 

“Of course, now that Theseus has been exiled and killed, I can now show you what Athens has gifted us!” Athena led her daughter into the sacred chambers of her temple to where the glory of Athens, of Athena, stood proudly. 

“Mother, I am sure that-” Perseleia’s breath hitched as she beheld the sight before her. 

Athena Parthenos stood in all her glory. 

Athena felt pride as her daughter was rendered speechless at the sight of such monumental devotion. 

11.5 meters high and dressed in a peplos of pure gold, Athena’s likeness was breathtaking. Her shield in her left hand, protecting her serpent. Her helmet is just like her own. The jewelry her Parthenos wore were gingerly carved to look exactly like the jewelry her own daughter had gifted her.

None of that compared to the perfection held out in the Athena Parthenos’ hand: the identical visage of her only child; Athenide Písti with her wings outspread, her sword held in a relaxed grip on her right hand. She stood relaxed and yet prepared to defend. 

Athena worked with the artists and the sculptures more intensely with her daughter’s likeness than on herself. 

When Perseleia was gone during the winter months, Athena would come here and gaze upon her daughter’s likeness for hours on end. 

“Isn’t it glorious?” Athena stepped forward. “It took years to get your likeness just perfect but we got it in the end.” 

Athena turned, smiling at finally being able to show her daughter what he had been working on for years only to frown as she saw her daughter’s look of horror as she gazed at the statue.

“Please tell me this isn’t-you haven’t-” Perseleia shook her head. “No, no, no!” 

“Owlet, my darling, whatever is the matter?” Athena was confused. 

Her daughter began to shudder as tears started to fall down her cheeks. 

“What have you done?!” Perseleia fell to her knees and cried. 

“Owlet?” Athena didn’t know what she had done wrong. 

“Wisdom’s daughter walks alone… no, no!” Perseleia brought her hands up to cover her mouth so Athena didn’t hear the rest of the prophecy. “ -through pain of woven jail. Why would you do this?!” 

Athena picked up her daughter and held her as she sobbed. 

Athena didn’t mean to make her daughter cry; she just wanted to show her something she was proud of.

Percy had avoided the aerie after seeing the Athena Parthenos; the same statue that Annabeth was sent on a suicide mission for, the same statue that an uncountable number of Athenian children died trying to retrieve, the same statue that led to Annabeth and Percy falling into the Pit. 

It was…

It was a lot. 

Percy didn’t know how to feel.

She just knew she wanted to be alone. 

“Hey? Are you okay?” Apollo asked. 

“Great.” Percy said, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top.

“Want some company?” He asked. 

What the hell?

“Why not?” Percy gave him permission to sit. 

Apollo sat in front of her and gave her a once over.

“Want me to heal that for you?” he asked. 

It took Percy a while to figure out he was referring to the cut she made on her hand; a slice she made to once again see if her blood was still golden ichor and not the red blood of mortals. 

Wordlessly, Percy held her palm out to Apollo. 

He was so gentle as he wiped the blood away and wrapped linen around her wound. 

“Want to talk about it?” Apollo asked. 

Percy opened her mouth but the words couldn’t come out. 

She couldn’t find the way to articulate how it felt like everything she did, all that she tried to do, was amounting to nothing. She couldn’t find the words to say how the future she feared that would happen was becoming one she was ensuring. 

“I feel like I failed.” Percy said finally.

“Why do you say that?” Apollo tied the linen around her wrist and palm. 

“I just do.” Percy said into her knees. 

“You are the most odd goddess I have ever known; you’re too mortal for the gods, yet too godly for the mortals. It’s like you are a demigod yourself yet your blood states otherwise.” Apollo said. 

His words didn’t help like he thought they would, they only made her feel worse. 

“I do know this: for better or worse, you have changed the gods.  I don’t know what I would have been like had I not known you and at this point, I dare not think of it. You who protect and love and welcome indiscriminately think you have failed?” Apollo shook his head. “No, you have not. Because of you, my sister’s Hunters are prosperous. The nymphs and girls unfit for the Hunt find shelter on Aeaea under Circe’s care. The Amazons go around and protect children and girls and women of Greece.” 

Percy looked up at Apollo, his eyes shining and so genuine. 

“If you only knew…” he shook his head. “You have not failed.”

He took her hands in his and brushed his thumbs over her knuckles. 

“I promise you, you have not failed.” 

Not knowing how to deal with Apollo kneeling before her and holding her hands, Percy resorted back on humor to deflect the seriousness of the situation. 

“Are you going to kiss my hand to make it better?” Percy deflected. 

Looking Percy straight in the eyes, Apollo lifted her bandaged hand to his lips and tenderly kissed her knuckles. 

Percy felt her heart skip a beat.

He’s holding her hand.

He’s kissing her hand. 

He’s actually kissing her hand!

He’s kissing her hand like Mr. Darcy, Apollo is kneeling before her, kissing her hand, and gazing up at her like she is Elizabeth Bennet!

Abort!

“Better?” Apollo whispered reverently against her knuckles. 

Percy felt her cheeks warm up and she was sure she was blushing hard. 

“I-yes!” Percy whispered.

Apollo parted his soft lips to say something but Percy broke; she couldn’t be here any longer. She just needed to be literally anywhere but here so she could scream into the void. 

“I have to go.” Percy said, running away from her feelings and her crush. 

Leaving Apollo kneeling in place, crestfallen in her wake.

///

Ares arrived upon Olympus and sought his mother, his sister, and his lover. 

“I have found a judge for your contest.” Ares said. 

“Who?” Aphrodite asked.

“Paris, a herdsman from Mount Ida. He was a judge of cattle the past week so I transformed myself into a bull. Instead of choosing his own cattle, he chose me as the winner.” Ares said. “He is honest and fair. He shall be a most excellent arbiter for your contest.” 

Paris was herding cattle while his wife Oenone was recovering from her labors with their son Corythus when a messenger came across the fields to him. 

“Hail, friend.” Paris greeted the messenger. 

“Greetings, Paris.” the messenger said. “You have been appointed by Zeus himself to judge who amongst the goddesses is the most beautiful.”

Paris took in the sight of the goddesses behind the messenger. 

Queenly Hera stood before him; a gown as richly blue and green as her sacred birds, their feathers in her train. A golden belt and arm bands had delicate golden chains with sapphires and emeralds dangling at the ends. Her hair was as rich as the earth and pinned back with a golden diadem. In her hand, a scepter with a lotus flower. Her cow-eyes were soft and gentle.

Surely she was the winner. 

But then he saw the next goddess. 

Athena was tall and severe yet even she was ethereal. She had muscles and an athletic body of one who saw combat. She wore a pure white chiton, a color that only the highest of priestesses wore, and a silver breast plate. A silver belt with leather pteruges fashioned like feathers was around her waist and held a xiphos in its sheath. No diadem or laurels were upon her dark curls for she had a silver helmet. In one hand she had a gleaming shield with the head of a gorgon upon it and in the other, she held aloft a glistening spear. Upon her shoulder was a tawny owl. Her silvery grey eyes judged him immensely.

Surely she, the mother of Loyalty, was the winner.

Then he laid eyes upon the final goddess.

She was beautiful. 

Her hair was every shade, every type imaginable. Her eyes shifted and made him dizzy to look at but the closest he could describe them as, and this was a poor descriptor, were gemstones. Her body… there were no words to describe her body. She wore maiden’s chiton of sheer silk; upon being blown upon by the breeze, would either hug the sheer fabric to her body, outlining her curves, or it would blow it open, revealing her pearly white breasts to him. She was escorted by winged deities who showered her in rose petals. 

She was…

She was…

“Paris, you have been ordered by Zeus himself to judge of these three goddesses: Queen Hera, Pallas Athena, and Aphrodite Urania to determine who is the fairest. You will declare the winner by gifting unto them this,” Hermes held out a Golden Apple. 

Paris could not think clearly. 

Paris could not judge. 

All three were fair and each more beautiful than the last. 

“I am honored but I fear I am unqualified. You are all equally beautiful.” Paris said once he found the words to speak. 

“I still say my Perseleia should get the apple.” Athena huffed.

“Paris,” Hera’s voice was like warm honey and washed over him like a mother’s caress. “If you chose me, I shall make you a king and your wife a queen. Your son will want for nothing as a prince. No longer will you have to be a herdsman.” 

Aphrodite protested and Athena’s eyes went wide like her owls. 

“Paris, I will teach you the art of war and prowess. I will teach you strategy and grant you glory in battle.” Athena lifted her chin challengingly. “Gift to me the Golden Apple so I may in turn gift it to my daughter, who is fairer than I.” 

Hera rolled her eyes and Aphrodite scoffed. 

“Paris,” Aphrodite purred; allowing her features to shift to that of a maid with black hair and silvery streaks, with eyes of sea green; what silk she covered herself with was seductively shrugged off revealing the body of the goddess. “If you choose me, I shall give to you the most beautiful woman in the world. I shall give you the most coveted bride of all the world.” 

Paris looked upon the Golden Apple and turned to Athena. 

Athena looked pleased and then Paris opened his mouth.

“You say you want the apple for the fair Athenide; if I give this prize to you, will you give her in marriage? Will you bless a union between her and I just as Silver-Footed Thetis was gifted in marriage?”

Athena’s lips pursed with each word that came out of Paris’ mouth.

“My daughter,” Athena seethed, “is not for sale.” 

Paris looked at the Golden Apple in his hand and shrugged. 

“Hmm. I am afraid you just aren’t the fairest then.” Paris then turned to the Queenly Hera and made his request. “As the goddess of women and marriage, if you give to me my chosen bride, before everyone I shall declare you the fairest.” 

“You would abandon your wife and son? You think Loyalty will adore you for that?” Hera sneered at him. “My niece deserves better than what pathetic words you can only offer.” 

“Then not even you, Queen of the Heavens, is fair of face.” Paris shrugged off her scorn and turned finally to Aphrodite. 

“Before you can ask; I have been sworn not to interfere with Loyalty’s heart nor is it mine to give.” Aphrodite said, her face still like that of Loyalty’s and her body bare for all to see. “If you choose me as the fairest, I shall give you the fairest mortal to be your wife and lover. Your love shall be told throughout all of time. Your name shall be remembered.”

Paris could only gift the Golden Apple to Aphrodite, who held the most beautiful features upon her face and offered up the most beautiful woman in the world.

Aphrodite snatched the apple and cackled with glee. 

“HA! Mother of my lover, you who have bore the Graces, Youth, Liberty, and yet none of them come to your aid! You have born War and Fire and neither of your sons have appeared to help you!” Aphrodite goaded. “And you, Athena! Who has come to assist you for this? Your mother? You don’t have one. Your daughter? She refused to come! You who flee from me and my children offer up victory in war? I have brought War himself to his knees and conquered him in bed!”

“You-” Athena was about to rush at Aphrodite when Hera stopped her.

“Not yet, Athena.” Hera said, her own anger simmering in her eyes; once beautiful and lively, now dark and bitter. “Come, Athena. Let’s leave Aphrodite to her victory.” 

Why should Paris care that Hera and Athena were mocked? He had the favor of Aphrodite.

Chapter Text

Under the guise of a diplomatic mission, Paris entered Sparta with the intent to kidnap Helen and carry her back to Troy. With several successful kidnappings before him, Paris expected to claim a Greek bride with little consequence.

The goddesses of Olympus had been in a frosty state ever since the Golden Apple had been awarded to Aphrodite; an award the goddess had taken great care of and placed in a special place of honor in her temple.

Stranger still, Hera and Athena had put aside all cold remarks and hostilities towards one another and often were found giving each other council and siding with each other in meetings. It was odd seeing the once cold and angry Queen of Olympus be friendly to a goddess who was not her child by Zeus and many wondered how long this new alliance would last. 

Percy however, did not have to wonder why; she had a pretty good idea as to why Hera and Athena were being friendly now. 

Heads turned and eyes followed her as she climbed the stairs to Aphrodite’s temple. 

Erotes flitted around, quick as hummingbirds. 

Percy could hear Eros’ cackling from the shadows. 

Anteros was the first to greet her. 

He looked exactly like Apollo with the exception of the large Malachite butterfly wings fluttering behind him.

“Lady of Loyalty, welcome to mother’s temple.” Anteros said.

“Thank you, Anteros. I need to speak with your mother.” Percy said. 

“Mother has decreed that you must make it through all of us before she speaks with you.” Anteros said, apologetically. 

“No apologies are necessary. You are only relaying her message.” Percy said. 

“Very well. I pray this is worth it.” Anteros let her pass. 

Further in, Percy saw another Erote.

“Lady of Loyalty, Mother of Demigods, what a gracious privilege it is to welcome you to mother’s temple.” Hedylogos attempted to flatter her. 

He was beautiful as all Erotes were, with the wings of a hummingbird blurring behind him. 

“You do not have to flatter me.” Percy said. 

“But it is you who has ensnared the very Sun to your charms! You who have inspired the poets and heroes! You who-”

“Where is your mother?” Percy cut him off. 

“Further in.” Hedylogos said. 

“Thank you. I shall tell her you were a brilliant flatterer.” Percy smiled kindly but kept moving. 

She came along Hermaphroditus, a beautiful god with dragonfly wings flapping behind him who had no issue showing off his androgyny; his long hair was pinned up like most goddesses but he wore a chlamys the way the male gods did. He did not care that it showed off his breasts nor did he care if his penis was on display. 

“You look for mother?” Hermaphroditus’ voice was light like a flute or a babbling brook.

“Yes.” 

“She’s not pleased with you.” He said. 

“I don’t care.” Percy said. 

“If Anteros didn’t give you pause, surely Himeros and Pothos will.” Hermaphroditus waved her along. 

Hymenaeus was next.

“I have no quarrel with you. The weddings we have overseen are some of the loveliest.” He sent her along the way. 

Himeros and Pothos looked like identical twins to Apollo; Himeros had a taenia in his golden curls and swan wings while Pothos had goose wings. 

“Mother is-”

“Yes, I know Aphrodite is mad at me.” Percy rolled her eyes. 

The Apollo lookalikes gave her feral grins that the real Apollo would never give her. 

“You yearn and you desire.” Pothos said. 

“It’s uncontrollable like a wildfire and yet,” Himeros flashed a toothy smile at her. “You do not act upon it.” 

Pothos tutted at her. 

“Your mother is mad I have self control?” Percy raised an eyebrow at her. 

“No,” Pothos cackled. 

“You’ll see.” Himeros let her pass. 

Phthonus was next, who took on the form of people Percy assumed were Apollo’s lovers. 

“What are you trying to do?” Percy asked. 

“Are you not jealous of them? Are you not envious of them for loving the god you want? Don’t you want to rip them apart limb by limb?” Phthonus took on the form of Hyacinthus. 

“No, I don’t. And neither would Hyacinthus.” Percy snapped at him. “Where is Aphrodite?”

“Further up and further in,” Phthonus now looked like Coronis. “And she’s-”

“I know, I know! She’s mad at me!” Percy said, pushing past the Erote. 

Eros was nowhere to be seen, he hid in the shadows and cackled at Percy as she searched for Aphrodite. 

“Why do you run from us?” He mocked. 

“I’m not running.” Percy continued to walk on. 

“No? You flee from Apollo. You flee from Heracles. You flee from any man who desires you.” 

She came to golden doors which held artistic scenes of people falling in and out of love, of people in fits of passion and lust. 

“Like Athena said: I am not for sale.” Percy stopped from opening the door when a lead tipped arrow was lodged in the golden door barely an inch from her wrist. “You missed.” 

“Only because my oath requires it.” Eros said from the shadows. 

“Alright, I’ll bite: why is your mother mad at me?” Percy rolled her eyes. 

“Because you insult her children.” Percy heard the bow string draw tight and felt the whoosh of the arrow fly next to her ear; the arrow did not touch her. 

“If I have insulted her sons and daughters, it was done without intention. I have made sure that her children knew how to defend themselves, that they were not treated any differently to the other gods, I have-” Percy stepped forward as an arrow flew where she once stood. “Would you please stop shooting arrows at me?”

“Not my mortal siblings, you fool! You insult the Erotes! You insult our mother!” Eros stepped out of the shadows. 

He was so painfully similar to Apollo in appearance yet the only features that distinguished him from her Apollo was that Eros had blood red eyes and dove wings. 

“How have I insulted her or you?” Percy asked. 

“You run from love! You run from us!”

“I love my friends. I love the children under my care. I love my parents. I love the sea. I love everyone; each to varying degrees but I still love them.” Percy said. “If anything, I honor her.” 

Eros pulled another arrow back and aimed it at her heart. 

Percy did not fear him; Apollo would never hurt her and neither would this imitation of him. 

Eros let loose the arrow but it did not hit its mark; instead, it hit the invisible barrier of Aphrodite and the Erotes’ oaths and ricocheted into a pillar. 

“If you’re done, I’m going to talk to your mother now.” Percy turned around and opened the doors. 

Aphrodite was lounging on a large bed carved to be a clam. 

She was still breathtakingly beautiful as she was when Percy first met her. 

“I’m-”

“Mad at me? Your children have made that plenty clear.” Percy said. 

Aphrodite pouted and went back to admiring her Golden Apple.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your win.” Percy said. “I am not surprised that you won, you are literally the goddess of beauty and love.” 

“Oh spare me. If I want to listen to flattery, I’d have Hedylogos here.” Aphrodite sneered.

“This isn’t flattery.” Percy said. “I genuinely wanted to congratulate you on your win.”