𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍° ! percy jackson

𝐢.𝐱𝐯𝐢 - 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. (𝐩)

"Holy hell, Percy." Aurora sighed, grabbing Percy's shoulders and pulling him into an aggressive hug. "You look like you're gonna drown yourself."

Percy remembered that that was the way he had gotten Aurora to surrender herself and save herself, the way he had pushed her. He wouldn't have blamed her if she stabbed him in the back—literally—right then and there. In fact, he wanted to encourage it.

"I... I can't even—I'm so fucking sorry, Ro." Percy choked out, his voice low and tender as he blinked hard. "I would have never done it if I didn't know you would be safe. And I... I just felt it. I just knew that you would be safe, but I'm still so sor—"

"Gods, Jackson." Aurora shook her head, pushing the boy away as fast as she brought him into the embrace. "It's honestly better than fine. When I was falling, I felt it too. I think you put a blessing over me or something. Best free fall of my life. I actually felt safe, even though I was plummeting to my death." She looked away, grabbing a floating piece of garbage floating by in the water. "I've never felt safe."

Percy didn't exactly know how to respond, but he simply just watched as she snatched an old cigarette lighter and flicked it, a tiny flame sparking at the bottom of the river.

"But, just so you know," Aurora extinguished the flame and threw the lighter at Percy. He tried to light it again, the flame growing bigger at his touch. "That's no way to make a friend."

Percy exhaled dejectedly. He would never give up trying to be Aurora's friend, no matter what. But when she looked at him, she gave him her lopsided smile that indicated that she was only mildly annoyed at him, and he took it.

"I'm not even mad." Aurora let out a brittle chuckle, which sounded watery from them being in the lake. "The fall was so harmless, I just acted mad to make you feel all guilty. It was funny."

"I'm still really sorry." He murmured, not meeting her eye. "I'm so sorry."

Aurora raised her eyebrows. "Apologize to your dad for wasting your precious prayer on me, Shark Boy." When he didn't meet her gaze, she took a step forward, her voice earnest and without a trace of lies. "I'm good. Really. I should be thanking you."

Percy did a double take, his brows furrowing. "But it wasn't wasted. I could never waste it if it's on you." He said, and he said it with complete honesty. Aurora was better at the whole demigod-thing than he was. It would be a waste to use a prayer on himself.

But Aurora was looking at him with a look that said "you still have to do this, dumbass," and he imagined a woman's voice, a voice that sounded a bit like his mother saying, Percy, what do you say?, so Percy sighed and thanked the river.

And like he expected, the river didn't respond. But then, there, not five feet in front of him, was his sword, its gleaming bronze hilt sticking up in the mud.

Percy heard that woman's voice again: Percy, take the sword. Your father believes in you. This time, Percy knew the voice wasn't in his head, because Aurora's head whipped around. Within seconds, her bow was drawn and her face taught.

Although Percy didn't think the voice was of any harm, Percy wanted to appease Aurora, so he called aloud, "Where are you?"

Then, through the gloom, they saw her—a woman the color of the water, a ghost in the current, floating just above the sword. She had long billowing hair, and her eyes, barely visible, were green like Percy's.

"Is that..." Aurora muttered, swallowing. "You have the same eyes."

A lump formed in Percy's throat, his mind going to the same place. "Mom?"