CHAPTER TWO.
who is percy jackson?
FEYRE BLANCHARD retreated further down the streets of New York City, her bow and arrow strapped to her back. Her heart was hammering hard against her chest cavity, the girl looking over her shoulder to see the small monster troop getting closer and closer to where their forces were preparing for battle.
But all she could think about in that very moment was looking out for the kids (who definitely didn't feel like children anymore after this). There were four of them she held dear to her heart. But only three of them she recognised at first glance. There was her sister, Delia Cromwell. The daughter of Athena, Annabeth Chase, and the satyr, Grover Underwood. But it was the final boy she found herself unfamiliar with. He carried a celestial bronze sword in his hand, his shaggy mop of blonde curls bouncing with every step he took down the street.
However, it felt like she knew him somehow. She had this feeling that they had gone through thick and thin together to get to this moment.
When Feyre and the kids she had sworn to protect reached the end of the street, their army of troops were already prepared, wielding their weapons and making their stand in preparation for the monster attack. They pushed past the first line of fighters holding up their defences. Feyre was listening as the once innocent children were discussing strategy in case their enemy made it inside, struggling to come to an agreement in terms of the best approach to defeat the army once and for all with minimal casualties.
Feyre knew deep down what she had to do. It was her. She was the key to stopping their enemy, or at least she could kick off a chain of events that would allow the others to defeat them. It made her feel sick to her stomach. This was the moment she had been trying to avoid ever since her first harrowing dream of her imminent death. But now she knew there was no turning back now. Once they had finished fighting the monster troop sent their way, Feyre would go and be the hero the girl was born to be.
"Guys..." Feyre's voice caught their attention. They watched as the girl approached them nervously, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her quiver. "I have to go."
Annabeth stared at the older girl, a puzzled look evident in her eyes. "Go, where? We need to make our stand here before the monsters reach everyone else," She instructed, sounding almost confused.
Feyre nodded her head. She tried to explain to them what her father had told her, and how this was meant to happen. Feyre, however, should've known the kids would be adamant that she goes nowhere if it meant it could save her from certain death. They argued back and forth for what seemed like forever until Feyre put her foot down and explained this would happen whether they liked it or not. It was fate. They knew better than to test fate. But if this was where Feyre Blanchard's story ended, then they would make sure she wasn't alone.
The boy who Feyre didn't notice stepped forward, a sincere look burning bright in his blue eyes that resembled the ocean. "If you go, we all go," He told her. Feyre made an attempt to protest against his words. But he wasn't accepting it. "You have spent the last couple of years protecting us. If this is your last fight, then let us be there," He elaborated.
Feyre let out a shaky breath and looked past the boy, her gaze flickering between Grover, Annabeth, and finally Delia, who nodded her head in agreement. "If you die, you shouldn't be alone," Delia insisted, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
Feyre sighed in defeat, sparing Delia one last look before she turned her attention back to the boy. "You are one stubborn hero, Percy Jackson," She told the blond boy, a weak smile etched at the corners of her lips. . .
Suddenly, Feyre shot up awake, and instead of standing in the streets of New York City, she was sitting upright in her bunk within the four walls of Apollo's cabin. Beads of sweat coated the girl's forehead, forcing her to raise her arm and wipe them away from her damp skin. Once she had gotten over the initial shock of her dream, or vision. . . Feyre didn't even know what was real or not anymore when it came to her dreams, the girl let out a quiet sigh. Feyre had hoped her dreams would've calmed down with time, but four years later, and she was still feeling every second of it.
Sometimes Feyre wished there was a way to make it all stop. But she guessed that was the curse of being the God of Prophecy's daughter. She couldn't help but be graced with a gift so harrowing that she couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't anymore. And this dream was different. Feyre was met by a face she didn't recognise. However, she knew him in this dream. Percy Jackson. That was his name. She heard herself loud and clear, and now it lingered like a distant echo in the back of her skull. Percy Jackson. But who was he?
Feyre didn't know much these days. But she knew she wouldn't fall back into her slumber for a long time yet. So the girl kicked her blanket off her body, leaving her in a pair of pyjama shorts and an old t-shirt. Feyre walked over to the other side of her bunk and slipped on a pair of shoes and threw a jacket over her shoulders to shield her from the cool summer air. She moved across the cabin quietly, passing her many brothers and sisters in her wake before she wrapped her hand around the handle and opened the door, leaving it ajar. This allowed the girl to slip sneakily through the crack in the door, welcomed by the dark night.
Feyre looked around at the other cabins at first until her gaze fell on the Hermes cabin. She released a sigh of relief and walked down the steps to her cabin and across the surrounding area. When she reached the cabin, the same one she used to call home before she was claimed and moved to Apollo's cabin, she walked around to the side of the small building until she found a familiar window. Feyre then pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and peaked inside, scanning her eyes over the area until she found a boy sitting on his bed. He wasn't asleep, which made Feyre feel less guilty for coming over.
She curled her hand into a small fist and tapped her knuckle three times on the glass window. It was enough to grab her best friend, Luke Castellan's attention. The boy lifted his gaze to peek out the window, noticing Feyre standing outside, an unreadable expression plastered across her tanned features. Luke furrowed his brows in confusion, causing for him to stand up from his bunk and make his way outside the Hermes cabin to see Feyre standing on the other side of the door, an apologetic look evident in her dark eyes.
"Hey..." Feyre trailed off, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of her lips, but her sad brown eyes up close made Luke grow concerned. "I'm sorry if this is inconvenient. I just had a bad dream and needed someone to talk to," She then admitted, her sad eyes causing for Luke's gaze to soften. He then nodded down towards the steps, taking a seat on them. It gave Feyre the go ahead to take a seat next to him.
"Is everything okay?" Luke asked the girl. Feyre stared into her friend's kind eyes for a moment before she parted her lips to speak.
"I'm not sure," Feyre confessed, shrugging her shoulders. "It's just...I'm only just beginning to learn that being the daughter of the God of Prophecy sucks," She added, causing for Luke to let out a quiet chuckle. The familiar sound of his laughter was enough to warm Feyre's heart, and almost make her forget about her dream from moments before.
Once his laughter died down, Luke's smile faltered slightly. "Let me guess...you had another vision?" He asked in a rhetorical manner. Besides from her siblings and Chiron, Luke was the only other person who knew about Feyre reoccurring dreams that were remnants of her future. It wasn't easy to talk about, even to the people she loved most. She didn't even tell her own mother about how real her dreams felt until she was fourteen. With Luke, however, talking to him about it felt easy. He made it easy to talk about something so harrowing at times.
But she never dared tell anyone, not even the people she trusted most of all, the context of her dreams. Her visions showed her a series of events that would lead the girl to her death. She didn't tell Luke, not her mother, her friends, or even her siblings. Not because she didn't trust anyone. They were the people she trusted most. Truth is, she just didn't want to scare them with the knowledge that she may die in the near future. Not if there's still a chance she can avoid her death altogether.
"That obvious, huh?" Feyre commented, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'm normally pretty good at handling my visions. I mean, I've been having them since I was ten years old. But no matter how much time has passed, I wake up more scared and confused than ever," She elaborated further, a sad expression washing over her tanned complexion.
Luke examined the girl's sad features for a moment, swallowing thickly before he gently nudged the girl, catching her attention once more. "You want to talk about it? The dream, I mean," He offered, a sheepish grin of his own planted on his lips.
Feyre smiled back at the boy. "I wouldn't even know where to start. These days I can't even tell what's a dream and what's an actual vision. They always seem to blend together somehow," Feyre paused, inhaling sharply for a moment before she exhaled. "I just wish Apollo had some sort of prophecy handbook that I could read. Maybe then I could finally understand this stupid gift," She admitted.
"You never refer to Apollo as your dad when you talk about him," Luke pointed out. His statement was enough to make Feyre glance back at the boy. Her eyes occasionally flickered to the faint scar on the side of his face. A reminder of the quest he barely came back from alive. "Why?" Luke then pushed, hoping to get an answer from the girl.
Feyre was quiet for a moment. It was a valid question. Ever since she was claimed by her father, Apollo, she never once spoke fondly of him. She never even referred to him as her father. The mere thought of seeing him as such made her feel uncomfortable. Not because she was ashamed of him. But because she resented him for everything he did. Apollo knew falling in love with a mortal woman, and going as far as to have a child with one was reckless to say the least. But to abandon that woman and child and never once visit or try to make a connection was something Feyre believed was unforgivable. Especially during the times she needed her father most growing up, and he wasn't there to catch her when she fell.
A sigh slipped past Feyre's lips. "I don't see him as anything more than the man that abandoned my mom and I," She answered. "He pretended I didn't exist for fourteen years and claimed me once I was worthy enough of his attention. Then he sent me a gift for my fifteenth birthday and that was it. He hasn't even once spoken to me. I think if he was to show up now and beg to be in my life, I would tell him to go to hell," She explained.
Luke nodded his head in agreement. "I get that completely. Fathers are complicated," He informed, his body beginning to tense as he thought about his own father.
Feyre always knew Luke would understand the negative feelings she felt towards her father because he wasn't too fond of his own parentage. Feyre didn't know the details. She knew Luke didn't like to talk about his life before Camp Half-Blood, and she respected her friend enough to not ask. It wasn't her business. But from what she knew, or at least from the way Luke talked about it in his own vivid way, his mom was no longer in the picture, and he blamed his father, Hermes, for all of it. Once again she didn't know what had transpired between them at the time. But Feyre believed Luke had his reasons for the underlining hate deep within his heart reserved for his father, and she knew it was best to leave it.
This time around Feyre nudged the boy using her arm, catching his attention. This caused for Luke to glance back at her, watching as she gave him a warm and reassuring smile. "He doesn't deserve you, you know? You're everything he was too afraid to be," assured him.
Luke raised his brow in response to the girl's kind words. "And what is that, Blanchard?" He inquired curiously.
Feyre then reached out and grabbed Luke's hand with her own purely based on instinct. She then laced their fingers together and gave his hand a gentle and reassuring squeeze. "You're a good person, Castellan. Don't let him take that away from you," She informed, a twinkle of admiration glimmering in her dark eyes.
Luke let out another chuckle, shaking his head. "If only you knew..." He trailed off, staring deeply into her eyes.
The boy's choice of words was enough to make Feyre's mouth fall open in surprise, a fake gasp escaping past her lips. "Luke, are you actually a brooding loner with a mean streak?" She joked around, a teasing smirk etched at the corners of her lips.
Luke heard a soft giggle leave the girl's lips shortly after she had spoken, causing for him to let out a quiet roar of laughter of his own. "You wish, Feyre," He replied. Feyre giggled again, slowly letting go of her friend's hand in the process.
Feyre liked these moments with Luke. It was moments like this where it was just enough to make her forget all about worries from moments before. Luke and Feyre have always been the kind of friends that helped each other through the dark times. Even for something as small as a terrifying dream, Luke was the only person with the power to pull Feyre out of that dark mindset and vice-versa. It sometimes felt like their friendship would have the power to overcome the most difficult and intense obstacles in each other's lives. If you were to ask Feyre, her friendship with Luke Castellan was the best thing to come out of her Demigod life.
It was also moments like these that made it incredibly difficult to break away and go back to her own cabin for the remainder of the night. Feyre let out a quiet sigh and stood up from the steps. "I guess I better let you sleep. Thank you for, you know, being here," Feyre told him, smiling again.
Luke followed Feyre's lead and stood up from the steps leading to his cabin, nodding his head. "Isn't that what friends are for?" He replied, a smile of his own forming across his lips. Feyre continued to smile back at the boy before she turned on her heel and made her way back towards her cabin.
Once Feyre had slipped past the door and creeped towards her bunk, she quietly kicked off her shoes and shook off her jacket before she slid back into bed, wrapping herself securely underneath her blanket. She rested her head against her pillow, sinking underneath the comfortable weight of her growing slumber. And yet her smile remained, and for once she wasn't afraid of falling back to sleep and possibly slipping into another harrowing dream. Except she didn't even dream about monsters and her death.
Feyre Blanchard found herself dreaming about Luke Castellan.
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Do you want to know the worst part about sharing an entire cabin with several other teenagers, who just so happened to be your siblings?
It was being woken up suddenly during the early hours of the next morning by your sister, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you until you stirred awake. Feyre was all too familiar with that feeling. One moment she was drifting off into a deep sleep, and now she was being pulled her out of her once peaceful dreamscape, rays of sunlight piercing through the windows of the cabin. Except she wasn't welcomed by the sun. Instead Feyre was welcomed by her sister's excited face, her hands continuing to shake her awake until she fully opened her eyes.
"Feyre!" Delia Cromwell exclaimed excitedly. There was this bright twinkle full of urgency burning in the young girl's eyes. Feyre knew whatever it was, it had to be enough to catch her sister's attention.
Feyre began to rapidly blink, trying to get rid of the tiredness in her eyes before she sat up in her bunk. "What?" She asked, her brows furrowing together in confusion.
Delia parted her lips to speak. However, an all too familiar voice belonging to Alina Sinclair beat her to it. "Chiron requested us three in the infirmary as soon as possible," She announced, a deadpanned tone laced in her voice as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Feyre rubbed her tired eyes with her hands and let out a breath. "What for? Isn't it the boys' turn to volunteer in there?" She questioned further, not understanding the matter of urgency to vacate her cabin to go and work in the infirmary when it wasn't even her turn to do so. And she wasn't even the best healer from Apollo's cabin. She didn't think her talents would be required.
Alina shrugged her shoulders. "Grover came back with another half-blood last night," She informed. Feyre felt relief come over her when she heard the satyrs name. She knew Grover had been sent out to scout for half-bloods and escort them safely to camp. It was nice to know he was home safe and sound. "But the half-blood got himself into trouble and since the boys are still getting used to the whole healing thing, Chiron wants us three to go in and take care of the new kid until he wakes up," Alina elaborated further.
Feyre kicked her blanket off her body and stood up from her bunk before she began to change, throwing an orange camp half-blood shirt over her body and quickly changing into a pair of denim shorts. "That doesn't explain why Delia is so excited about this," Feyre replied, nodding her head down towards her incredibly excited little sister. It looked like she was going to explode from excitement at any moment.
"You haven't even heard the best part," Delia piped up, bouncing up and down. "This kid killed a Minotaur," She then told Feyre, her words surprising her sister to say the least.
"That's impossible. No one has ever killed a Minotaur. At least not for a long time," Feyre denied, almost in a state of disbelief.
Alina clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in response. "Well, this kid did," She countered.
It was in that moment Feyre knew she had to meet this mysterious kid her sisters were telling her so much about. She quickly slipped her trainers on and led the way towards the infirmary away from where the cabins stood tall in all their glory. Once Feyre arrived at the infirmary, she was met by Chiron who lingered outside the entrance, a serious look plastered across his face. His half man, half horse figure towered over her as he approached the girl.
"Is the kid inside?" She asked and the man nodded.
"Take good care of him. He's been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours," Chiron warned, a sad tone laced in his voice. If there was one thing Feyre knew remained true about the Centaur, it was that he genuinely cared for them all like they were his own children. It felt good to have someone who looked out for them.
Feyre hurried inside, walking past many rooms until she found the one Grover standing outside of. The satyr always had a knack for caring too much about the half-blood's he helped get safely to camp. Feyre offered the boy a kind smile and made a mental note to welcome him back to camp later when her sisters and herself weren't busy taking care of some half-blood who was crazy enough to go up against a Minotaur. Feyre quickly asked Alina and Delia to find some Nectar and Ambrosia before she entered the room.
And then she froze.
Because when Feyre entered the room and saw the new arrival, she was met by pale skin and a mop of blond curls that were familiar to her. It made her body tense, her breath hitch in the back of her throat, and it made her hands become clammy with sweat because She had met this half-blood once before. Not in the outside world away from camp, but deep in her dreamscape. This was the kid she didn't recognise in her dream from last night, except he was younger compared to when she was communicating to him in her dream the night before. He was covered in less scars and appeared to be a lot more innocent to the naked eye.
This was him. The kid she had called a stubborn hero.
Percy Jackson.
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authors note.
I love foreshadowing so much, it's like my favourite form of writing these days. Especially in this story at the moment. And we are officially getting into the events of the lightning thief and I'm so excited for the stuff I have planned. Like I said before, it's going to be very cute and romantic as Feyre doesn't join the others on the quest BUT it's going to pull on your heartstrings TRUST ME.
Also Feyre not having a great relationship with Apollo is perfect for her arc and I can't wait for that development.
Until then I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'll update again soon!!!