"We are not our namesakes. We will never be more or less than what we are now, and I have loved you without regret. If we die, haunt me so your face is the last I see."
[ PERCY JACKSON x FEMALE OC ]
[ PERCY JACKSON SERIES ]
cover by @human...
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0012. | THE HAUNTING OF THE ALMIGHTY EAGLE BEGINS
The hour to midnight thrummed by.
The Solstice was close to dawning and Percy Jackson was nowhere close to returning what he had stolen from the King of the Gods.
Olympus was in uproar. Nymphs darted back and forth on the cobbles between the marble, bursting into shrubbery and trees at the slightest cloud in the skies or a warble in the ocean. Satyrs tripped on the rumbles of the ground and flinched for every rumble of thunder without lightning. Small Gods and their offerings quaked when the large voices bellowed from the Throne Room, but none felt such emotion as the two Olympian brothers at each other's throats on their seats of gold.
The low light of Hestia's hearth warmed the light of the Olympian Throne Room.
Zeus exuded his golden godly glow, even when spitting upon his brother and his oceanic spawn.
"The hour draws closer, brother," Zeus spat his familiarity with the effort of shifting the fury in Poseidon's chest. "Where is your boy? Where is my Bolt?"
Poseidon scoffed. "It is you who has eyes in the skies, not I," he snarled.
The rumbling thunder in Zeus' chest grew. It expanded and whistled like wind trapped in a cage without bars. The audacity of his brother. The sheer courage lesser beings grew for themselves when they decided that he did not do enough for them as King. As if Zeus did not keep the peace, as if he did not keep them protected, as if there had not been two thousand years without war amongst the Gods all because of him.
These lesser beings, these ants that crawled upon the ground, some with the tainted blood of humans smearing their divinity, choosing to steal from him. The King of the Gods!
How dare they? How do they dare believe that they could get away with such actions? How dare they do it under his very nose? How dare they steal from him and imagine him some small God who would roll over for the stabbing of their treachery?
Zeus would not take lightly to this theft and he would not sink into his clouds quietly. Percy Jackson had stolen from him, and Poseidon sat there still, lying for the sake of the spawn he had made an oath against siring.
If it were not for sheer desperation to avoid war, Zeus might not have been so generous. He knew many would only see that he had called to war, not that he had thwarted its threats for so long. He knew he when he sat his throne after slewing his father that he would never be praised for all that he did. These meek ants would make their meek sacrifices for his favour, but none would know all that he did for them in return for such petty offerings.
It had been so long since a hero had truly dedicated themselves to his temples.
"I let him fly through my skies," Zeus hissed. "And he has the audacity to be late to return this treason to me? Where have you told him to hide it? Where have to told him to go beside from here, back where my Bolt belongs?"
