Hate me if you must
But he was bound to get somewhat nice at some point
Chapter 19: Mutual Respect
'To Receive, You must first give'
Camp Half Blood
Long Island, USA
Day After Battle
««•••»»
Silence.
The only noises being made were the cacklings of the fire in the large amphitheater as the soldiers burned the chrisoms of the ones that had fallen in combat.
It had been a blood spilling battle, the force of the army being brought down in numbers. Still, the survivors considered themselves lucky, for they knew that their lives could have also been lost amongst the others that had sacrificed their bodies to protect their camp.
254 people. All of whom ranged between the ages 15 and 21 years old, respectfully being put to rest by their former comrades that fought alongside them. They were wrapped in beautiful shrouds designed by the members of their respective cabins, specifically made for their burial service today.
Speeches were made, to which were short and sweet, many of them being left incomplete as multiple speakers were unable to finish the orations they had began.
The atmosphere was tight, filled with grief and sorrow, as countless tears were shed at the calling of the slaughtered's names. Eyes were puffy and red. Hair was disheveled and tousled. Each person looked as if they hadn't been groomed in weeks, but alas, it had only been one day.
These were only the minor effects of the great losses they had taken the previous day.
The infirmary was filled, and medics were forced to work overtime, all to prevent the loss of any more lives. The amphitheater was filled, but some campers refused to leave their cabins, as many of them had lost close siblings and friends.
They wanted to mourn the deaths of their loved ones alone.
Hestia sang angelic songs, lifting the moods and spreading hope into the hearts of discouraged and distraught demigods, temporarily ignoring her profound dislike towards them, because no matter her emotions, the loss of a life was above her thoughts and feelings.
Hephaestus, seeing her efforts, took example, willing the fires to glow brighter and a little more beautifully, creating marvelous colors that intertwined with the orange flames.
At special request from Nyx, Hades ensured their passage to Elysium, free of judgement from the three gatekeepers in the Underworld.
All of this, and yet the General was nowhere to be seen, and it angered the demigods to see him display such a lack of respect at a time like this.
But they knew that there was nothing they could do.
They could not confront him, as they feared the consequences of the actions.
They could not oppose him, as it would not be sensible to anger a man as infatuated with violence as himself.
There was no possible way that they could win, so with great effort and strain, they decided to refocus their attention onto the ongoing service in front of them, accepting the fact that he did not respect them as much as they did him, not yet realizing that the said man stood at the very top of the long staircase, watching with intent at the exequies that took place below.
««•••»»
The ceremony went on for hours, but by the amount of people that had died, no one expected differently. As it concluded, the demigods rose from their seats, sparing one last glance at the center of the room, before finally turning around and beginning to file out, when they finally noticed him.
««•••»»
There he stood, hands placed behind his back and a look on his face that they just couldn't decipher.
His red eyes that were fixed onto the podium were much darker than usual, missing their usual wicked sparkle, and for a moment, he actually looked like a regular man.
He looked at them all, but nothing about his gazes were cruel.
In fact, in some odd way, it was comforting.
As he began to descend down the steps, the demigods that filled the aisle parted, clearing a passage for him in which he would walk through.
He stopped in front of the fires and the beautiful light responded positively in his presence, shining miraculously as if he was its master.
For a while, he stood unmoving, staring earnestly down at the burning shrouds, as he was truly pained to see his valiant troopers be put to rest.
He got onto one knee, and from his ankle, he brought one side of his pants up, revealing a silver dagger that strapped itself against the bare skin of his leg. He grabbed the glistening knife and rose again to his full stature, walking slightly closer to the flames that seemed to call desperately out to him.
Bowing his head, he gently placed the shining blade into the fire, and somehow, the metal melted and burned into the magnificent shades of light.
"Rest with honor, demigods."
Although his voice was hushed, the words still traveled throughout the entirety of the large room, almost shocking the great crowd of demigods behind him. Without another word, he turned around, walking back through the direction he had come, Nyx taking his hand and trailing along beside him.
In that moment, they realized that in more ways than one, they were wrong about him. Reason being, he still showed respect, paying homage to the ones that had fallen under his command, whether he liked them or not.
And that was all it took for them to begin admiring him. Sincerely. Not because of his rank, but because even if it was a small part, he showed himself to be vulnerable to the untimely death of his soldiers. He showed them that underneath that hard, resolute exterior, there was still a man, with real emotions, no matter how brute he appeared or how much he claimed not to care.
He showed them that somewhere deep down, no matter how small, there was still a trace of the real Percy inside him.
And the thought by itself was enough to bring a smile to multiple faces across the room, despite the solid presence of grief and sorrow that filled the atmosphere.
««•••»»
Hours had passed.
The sun began to set in the distance as night quickly fell, the brilliant light glowing against the surface of the camp's beach.
Perseus stood by himself, at the very end of the pier, his vision set onto the murky condition of the once clear body of water. No fish were visible through the greenish-brown liquid, and by the way it looked, he was certain no marine life would want to inhabit these waters.
He wondered why the beach was in such a state of devastation. Had no one gone into the water for all the 7 years he had been jailed? Had no one seen the need to deterge grimy waters? Or had it been that the beach was simply just neglected? As to which reason was correct, he was unsure.
He could only imagine how many naiads and water spirits had been driven out of their homes as the disgusting water reminded him of the East River in Manhattan, combined with the faint scent of the horses' stables from Geryon's Ranch.
Then the idea crossed his mind.
He got onto one knee, rolling the sleeve of his black sweater up and exposed his arm, to which his Roman branded tattoo adorned.
He leaned slightly over the edge, placing his hand into the completely revolting water, and swirling his fingers around in the dirty liquid.
At his touch, the water began to sparkle, little waves rippling forward and passing underneath the stable wooden jetty, crashing softly onto the shore behind him. He seeped his power from Poseidon into the sea, willing the water to cleanse itself from its vile muddle.
The waves began to grow, pushing forward with more force, and with every one that came, it brought clean water, extracting the unwanted green and brown color as the waves receded.
What now stood in front of him, was a beautiful body of light blue water, so clear that you could effortlessly see the very depths of the sea, the surface glinting and glittering with the majestic light of the setting sun.
Admiring his work, he finally realized that it all seemed so strange to him now. To see the sun set and to feel real, pure water once again, after almost a decade of Tartarus's glassy ground, red skies and jagged walls and cliffs. It was strange to not hear the fire river churning in the far distance as it intertwined with the Styx. It was strange just for him to be in the mortal world again. A place he believed that was behind him now, after so long without it in his life.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A familiar female voice said. From the way the sound travelled, the person was at least 2 meters to the back of him, keeping their distance just in case he decided to pounce.
He turned, meeting a pair of captivating stormy grey eyes, looking directly at him. Her hands trembled and shook uneasily, as if she were scared to speak to him, appearing to be fearful that he might hit her.
Of course, he understood her perspective.
Her long, curly blonde hair was tied into a large messy bun at the top of her head, and her face held no makeup whatsoever. He knew that Nyx would probably kill him for thinking the thought, put he couldn't help but to notice how beautiful she looked naturally.
Her skin looked pale, as she wore a large pair of sweatpants that he had no doubt used to belong to him, and an orange sports bra, exposing the bandages that covered the entirety of her abdominal area.
"Yes. It is in fact beautiful."
"What are you doing here, Ms. Chase?" He spoke simply to her, neither his voice nor his expression portraying any signs of hostility, though it felt odd for her to hear him address her like that.
It gave her the confidence to take a step forward, her fidgeting beginning to calm slightly.
"I can ask you the same question." She gave a shy smile, completely unlike anything he had seen her do before. "But I always come down here before dinner."
She took her shoes off without unlacing them and walked towards the end, wincing as she stooped down to sit on the edge of the wooden landing. She seemed to be surprised when she saw the clear sea, her feet dangling just above the surface of the now still waters.
"You cleaned it?" She stared at him, shocked, but he just merely nodded, not giving a verbal answer to the inquiry.
"How's your wound?" he asked her, noticing her previous struggles to take a seat. She shrugged her shoulders and proceeded to adjust the strap of her top.
"It hurts. A lot. I can't move around the way I want to, but at least I'm alive."
All of a sudden, he seemed so much closer to her, his hand begging to be interlocked with hers, so of course, she took the bait and laced her fingers with his. He must have not been paying attention, because he made no indications nor movements to stop her. Not even when his eyes caught onto it, he made no attempt to release her gentle hold on him.
"You saved my life, Percy. Even when you could have left me to die. I never got the chance to thank you for that. I appreciate you... so, so much."
Somehow, he knew that "appreciate" was not the word she would have preferred to use, but his intuition told him that that's what she settled for.
He didn't question her on it, but instead, he made her comfortable, enough for her shoulders to release its tension and for her to relax.
Annabeth however, was not as easily cracked as he would have liked.
"How are things with you? Does Nyx make you happy?"
She tried to sound supportive and interested, but it ended up coming out bitterly.
His lips twitched upwards, but he didn't smile. He nodded, making her heart sink more than it already had been. "More than I have ever been."
"Oh." She turned her face away from his, looking out into the darkening distance. 'She makes him happier than you did. Maybe more than you ever could.' The voice in her mind chided. She found herself becoming closer to the brink of tears, but she refused to break so easily in front of him. She blinked them away. "It's strange, don't you think?"
He sat down next to her, and she noticed that their hands were still together. "What is?"
"You know... being married to a woman that tried to kill us when we fell into Tartarus together?"
"I suppose," Perseus answered plainly, deciding not to go much into detail. "But she held me down when I had no one."
She sighed, her grip on his hand tightening. "Do you ever regret it? Jumping into the pit after me, I mean." She looked at him, seemingly embarrassed to ask the question. "Do you ever wish that you had just left me to fall?"
Just as she finished speaking, a loud horn sounded, and from as far away as he was, he could hear the large masses of demigods walking, all moving into the same direction, unmistakably to the mess hall where they would have dinner.
He stood up, helping her to her feet as he did. She put her shoes on again and he finally released her hands.
"Sometimes when I look at you I wonder if I made the right decision." He said, and her head snapped up. She looked hurt by his words. "But then I realize that I like having you around a lot more than not. Whatever, or however I feel towards you does not change the fact that you are an asset to this camp."
They walked together to the pavilion.
Then he noticed her. She was staring at him, her mouth opening then closed, like she wanted to say something, but her judgement was deciding against it.
When she shook her head and looked forward, he understood something.
They walked in silence for the most part, until he finally spoke again.
"You're hiding something." He decided. "Something important. Is there anything that you feel the need to tell me?"
Annabeth wavered. She seemed to be caught between a rock in a hard place. Eventually she shook her head no and Perseus narrowed his eyes at her.
"Tell Chiron and the counselors of each cabin to be at my door tomorrow, precisely at 5 AM. Do not be late."
Annabeth recoiled at the sudden threatening undertone of his voice, but before she could even turn around, in hopes to question him, Perseus had already been gone.
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