𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒༄ • Jᴀsᴏɴ Gʀᴀᴄᴇ

Chapter 4

They were walking back from the Hypnos cabin and towards the dining pavilion when she noticed Jason seemed nervous. She couldn't blame him. What Hera had done was truly cruel, and she wished she could tell him that, only Freya had the impression he wouldn't like pity. Instead, before she knew what she was doing, she grabbed his arm to stop him. She was starving, but putting it off for a little longer wouldn't kill her. 

"Hey," She said. 

He looked down at her, confused. "What?"

She could sense he didn't want to talk. That was good. Neither did she. They were both worried, both scared. Maybe they could help each other.

"Wanna head to the arena?"

A short silence. He looked her in the eyes, and she hated how her stomach twisted when he did.

"Yes."

They walked in silence, but she was accustomed to it. It didn't bother her. It wasn't uncomfortable, like she thought it would be. She'd expected Jason to be a bit more refined, to at least try to keep up his perfect reputation and not show how tired he was, but he didn't. She was glad for it. They were just two people, walking side by side and too tired to make polite chit chat.

When they got there, Freya took out her sword. It was glided obsidian, and had a keen resemblance to Nico's. She offered Jason one, but he just shook his head and pulled a coin out of his pocket. She was about to point out that a coin wasn't exactly a suitable fighting tool, when Jason flipped it and it turned into an imperial gold sword. Freya would be lying if she said she wasn't impressed. It was almost dark now, and the remnants of the sun barely still hung over the horizon. The red-ish gold light illuminated Jason's face and the light played tricks with his eyes so they gleamed in a way that suggested he was a bit more then only half god. Jason's sword lay in his hand, and he stared at it with his eyebrows furrowed, as if surprised it was actually there.

Freya streched her arms. "Nice trick, new boy." 

He looked up at her, his hair ruffled and messy. He smirked.

"Yeah?" Her heart jumped in her chest. "What have you got, water girl?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." 

In a second her sword was in the air, flashing and slashing with calculated and predicated speed. He was surprised, and she got the first blow. But just as fast, his instincts kicked in, deflecting her blade and almost managing to fling it out of her hand. They twirled around the arena in a dance of swords. Her raven curls had escaped from her ponytail, and her cheeks were tinged red and hot with effort. Her neck and collarbone dripped with perspiration, and she noticed Jason was not much better. His face was crimson, his hair sweaty and licked from between his eyes. Now and then he'd grunt and parry her sword when she attempted to slash him. She'd laugh, watch him get worked up. Freya didn't know why he was so frustrated though, they both knew that none of them were winning. She struck, he parried. He attacked, she danced away and laughed some more. That they'd do this until one of them tired out and gave up. But then again, maybe little golden Jason wasn't used to anyone challenging his sparring talents.

Finally, he grabbed her sword with his hand, which was not only a move she'd never heard of, but also incredibly foolish. However, he managed not to get his hand skewered, and pulled her forward. She yelped as she drove towards him, but didn't loosen her grip on her sword. He took advantage of their close proximity and grabbed her with one hand around the shoulders, slamming her to the ground. She gasped. They were so close, almost chest to chest. Jason held her firm in firm in position, with his arms pressing down onto her shoulders and collarbone.

He smiled coyly down at her. Then he leaned down and whispered into her ear. "I would like to know, actually."

She didn't know if this was some Roman voodoo moves, but Freya enjoyed it. She really enjoyed having him on top of her, she wasn't about to deny that. But even then, dignity always topped desire. Jason had been so cought up in his own victory, he hadn't noticed he forgot to disarm her. That meant she could still win. With a lazy smile up at him, she brought her feet up to her chest and kicked as hard as she could. He stumbled backwards, stupid and surprised. She got up, and while he was still too shocked to move, pinned him to the ground by clamping her legs around his waist. He huffed below her.