CHAPTER EIGHT.
i'm overcome in this war of hearts
THE NEXT morning when Feyre Blanchard opened her eyes to a whole new day, she felt different.
She expected to wake up feeling that same inescapable sense of fear and dread. The same feeling she always felt after a long night of slumber, left lost and trapped in the midst of her own harrowing nightmares. It had become a part of her morning routine at this point. Feyre expected to feel scared, disoriented, and anxious by the time she was free from the shackles of her never-ending dreamscape. It was a daily reoccurrence that Feyre had been forced to accept. One she had grown accustomed to as the years passed her bye since she first stepped foot into the camp she called home.
However, this morning was not the same as all the others. . . because Feyre didn't feel fear, nor did she feel confused. She felt light. She felt joyful. She felt like she was falling in love with her best friend.
Feyre believed love was a strong word. She wasn't even sure if that's what she truly felt because would she be able to say that she loved Luke to his face? Would she be able to tell him with full admiration burning deep within her chest cavity that her beating heart belonged to him and him only? She didn't think so. Feyre has never experienced love. She didn't know how or what that was suppose to feel like. How could she tell her best friend she was in love with him when she didn't know what that truly meant deep down. She was nothing more than a teenage girl chasing a fantasy. But was that the reasoning behind her new feelings for Luke Castellan. . . A fantasy?
As the boy crossed her mind again, she felt this twinge tie knots in the pit of her stomach, wrapping around each other and turning her insides into a puddle of butterflies fluttering from her stomach and into her chest cavity where her heart resided. Feyre would see flashes of Luke in her head: his smile, the twinkle that glimmered in his dark, brown eyes, and she would even hear his laughter like a distant echo in the back of her skull. It sounded like a beautiful symphony to her ears, and she could listen to it like a broken record for the rest of her life if given the chance.
Although Luke was more than just his looks. He understood Feyre in ways that no one else ever could. Not even her sisters, brothers, or even her own mother could understand Feyre's thoughts and emotions in the same magnitude that Luke could. He was the only person who made Feyre feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable towards, allowing the girl to pull back the mask and reveal all the true parts of herself, and watched as Luke accepted each flaw and imperfection wholeheartedly and made feel safe, secure, adored without judgement, and accepted without a single flicker of doubt. And for Luke, Feyre would ruin herself if it meant he would one day feel for her the way she felt for him.
But even if Feyre Blanchard was falling for Luke Castellan, she truly believed he would never see her as anything more than his best friend. So no matter how she felt, Feyre had to take her feelings and bury them in the dirt to save herself and save Luke from destroying the friendship she's cherished for the last four years.
So when Feyre left the cabin that morning and saw Luke, and his stupid smile, she felt it again — those butterflies fluttering from her stomach and into her chest, forcing her heart beat to speed up at an accelerating pace. Feyre cursed at herself for letting one boy have this much power over her in just a short span of realising she might see him as more than just a friend. She could already imagine Alina laughing at her for not only falling for her best friend like she suspected. But for being so drunk on that feeling in such a short amount of time, that just catching a glimpse of Luke from across the long row of cabins was enough to take her breath away.
Feyre knew that she couldn't run away from him though, or that would raise for more concern, and given the circumstances they were in, it didn't feel appropriate to let something as small as her newfound feelings for Luke cloud what was important right now. Her focus had to be the camp and keeping herself busy while she patiently waited for Delia's return home from the quest. Her sister's wellbeing and safety had to be her priority above all else, even if she couldn't be physically there to protect her from the dangers of the mythical world.
So Feyre rolled back her shoulders, forced a sheepish grin across her face before she began to approach Luke, walking down the first few steps leading to her cabin before she made her way towards the boy with a natural spring in her step. Today would be a good day. She would train with Luke while they went over the plan for their next Capture the Flag game now that Annabeth left them in charge to lead their team to victory. She would forget all about her feelings for Luke, and pretend it was just another day in camp, like it has always been for the last four years since she was dropped off at the magical protective border by her mother all that time ago.
But before Feyre had a chance to reach her friend, a loud and violent chorus of yelling caught her attention. Feyre was quick to snap her head around to where the continuous shouting was coming from before she headed into that direction with Luke trailing close behind her. By the time they reached where the uproar had originated from, Feyre was stunned to see a young boy from her cabin, Dallas, fighting with one of the Stoll brothers from cabin eleven. The girl's mouth open when she saw one throw a punch at the other, and before she knew it, the two boys became nothing more than a scrambled mess of violence and fury.
While the other kids surrounding the fight cheered the fight on, Feyre turned to look around until her eyes found Alina. "What the hell happened?" She exclaimed loudly, raising her voice so she could be heard over the rally of campers swarming the fight.
Alina shrugged her shoulders, her eyes widening in shock, flinching slightly when Dallas's fist connected with the other boy's jaw, sending him backwards. "I don't know. Dallas and I were training, and then the Stoll brothers just started messing with us. Dallas was just defending me, but it's going too far," She explained, a mix of confusion and bewilderment burning bright in her eyes.
Feyre knew she shouldn't have been surprised to see Dallas got himself into another fight. He was short tempered, and often the littlest things seemed to set him off. When he first arrived at camp around the same time Alina did, everyone assumed that because of his behaviour he had to be another one of Ares's kids. But when that glowing sun shimmered above his head, telling the campers that he was in fact a son of Apollo, everyone assumed there was some sort of mistake made, and truth is, Dallas never really seemed to fit in with anyone because of that. The only person he was truly close with was Alina. As they arrived at camp only a few months apart from each other, they seemed to bond quickly.
Feyre let out a loud huff and turned to then look at Luke, who was staring back at her wondering what could be done to put an end to the fight. It was his younger brother who started the fight after all. Feyre nodded her head before she stepped into the circle, followed by Luke, who quickly got in between the two boys, pushing his brother away from Dallas, while Feyre and Alina pulled their brother away from the fight he was desperately trying to claw his way back towards. The girl then turned to her outcast of a brother, a frustrated expression plastered across her face.
"What do you think you're doing?" Feyre asked him in a rhetorical manner, not expecting a response back from the younger boy. "You don't need to fight him. Ever heard of walking away?"
Once the crowd had dispersed and Dallas had calmed down, he lifted his gaze to glance back at his older sister, shaking his head. "He started it by saying Zeus is going to smite our dad because of the war—"
"What, war?" Feyre interjected, cutting the young boy off with a puzzled look washing over her face.
"The one that started when the master bolt was stolen," Dallas answered.
The boy's words were enough to make Feyre turn around, her eyes meeting Luke, who looked just as worried as she was the second that word — war — was thrown into their existence. Feyre swallowed thickly and told Alina to take their brother back to the cabin before she left with Luke, making their way up to the big house where they both knew Chiron would be, with the knowledge about what may or may not be happening right underneath their noses. Feyre feared the worst in that moment. She knew it was a possibility that the missing bolt would stir up a war between the gods. She just hoped it wasn't true.
By the time Feyre and Luke reached the old house, they stepped into the conservatory to see Chiron had been speaking to Mr. D, or otherwise known as the Olympian god, Dionysus, before he dismissed himself and ventured deeper into the house. Chiron believed he was alone for a moment until he turned around to see Feyre and Luke had graced him with their presence. The centaur smiled at the pair, clasping his hands together before he trotted towards them, his hooves clicking against the ground in the process. "Feyre...Luke, what can I do for you both?" He asked.
Luke stepped forward while he cleared his throat. "There are rumours going around camp that a war is breaking out amongst the gods..." He trailed off, and both him and Feyre watched as Chiron's once joyful expression faltered, and was soon replaced by a look full of concern, a sigh leaving his lips.
"So, it's true?" Feyre questioned in disbelief, and Chiron sadly nodded in response to her words. "Well, the gods going to war has caused for the camp to start turning against each other. We just had to break up a fight between two kids from completely separate cabins," She then elaborated, her voice beginning to shake. The idea of a war was enough to scare anyone. That included Feyre Blanchard.
"I figured this would happen the second Dionysus gave me the news about the war," Chiron admitted. "Since Zeus accused Poseidon of stealing his master bolt, a war has broken out between the two brothers. The other gods are being forced to pick a side. If word has already reached the campers....it means the gods are hoping their children will join their defences if a war can not be prevented," He explained, a mix of sadness and dread laced in his noble voice.
Feyre turned to Luke. "It makes sense why Dallas spoke about Zeus with such hate. My father is siding with Poseidon," She stated, earning a firm nod from Luke.
"Dallas was fighting Travis Stoll," Luke informed, sparing Feyre a quick glance before his attention found Chiron once again. "Meaning my dad is siding with Zeus," He announced, the mere mention of his father was enough to make him tense in the process.
Feyre felt herself shudder at the thought of her father and Luke's father being on opposite sides of a brewing war. It meant that if a war was to break out between the gods, and if Percy didn't get the master bolt back to Zeus before the deadline, then Feyre would have no choice but to go against her best friend in a fight she didn't ask to be a part of. A fight she would be forced into all because her father just happened to be a Greek God. The thought of fighting Luke made her shiver from head to toe, dread seeping into her pores and flooding her body with harrowing and soul-crushing fear.
"What can we do to help around camp? Maybe we could find a way to stop everyone from turning against each other?" Luke asked, his voice filled with a tone of urgency being enough to snap Feyre out of her deep thoughts.
Chiron stared between the two demigods for a moment before he let out a shaky breath. "That would be helpful. But for now you kids need to train and prepare yourself for the potential fight ahead. Let me handle the campers," He argued calmly, a ghost of a smile forcing its way across the centaur's lips. He was trying to make them worry less, but all Feyre could do right now was worry.
Shortly after Chiron had spoken, he trotted past Feyre and Luke, leaving them alone in the conservatory together before he ventured his way further into camp. Feyre didn't know what to say or how to feel. But just by looking down at the girl, Luke could see she was deathly afraid of the futures that could be waiting for them both. Luke gulped thickly before he reached out and gently grabbed the girl's hand with his own, holding onto her for a split second to grab her attention. Once Feyre's eyes were on him again, he let go, a faint, yet gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he parted them to eventually speak.
"Hey, Percy will get the bolt back to Zeus before the deadline. There won't be a war," He reassured the girl, a feeling of guilt burning in his chest, which only seemed to scorch its way into his beating heart when he saw the tears forming in the corners of the girl's eyes.
Feyre shook her head before a shaky breath left her lips. "But what if he doesn't? What if we have to go to war for our parents?" She questioned, becoming panicked at the mere thought of marching into a war she didn't ask to be a part of. "I don't think I can do that. I don't think I can fight the other campers here. I don't want to have to fight you, I can't—"
The girl was quickly cut off when she felt Luke's strong arms wrap securely around her body, pulling her into his own. Feyre was twice as quick to embrace the boy, the warmth of his body becoming entangled with her own. The girl then rested her chin on top of Luke's shoulder and sniffled quietly as a few stray tears slipped past her tear ducts, beginning to roll down her tanned cheeks while she continued to cling onto her best friend like her life depended on it. Like it would be the last time they held each other because with a potential war looming over the horizon, it could be. And if it was possible that she would have to fight her best friend, then Feyre would saviour every second of this moment.
Luke continued to hold onto Feyre for as long as she needed him to, keeping her safe and secure in the comfort of his embrace. He could feel her body tremble and although he knew his actions were the cause of her pain, he directed his anger and blame to the gods. He might have been the reason a war was starting in the first place, but the gods forcing their own children to fight alongside them in a war they didn't ask to be a part of was selfish. At least that was what Luke believed deep down. He hated the gods for using their children as weapons once again. He resented his own father even more for expecting him to fight alongside him after everything he's done.
It only fuelled Luke's desperation to carry on with his plan. Seeing Feyre's terrified state only motivated him to follow through. If not for himself and every broken and ignored demigod child, then he would do it for her.
When Feyre found the courage within herself to finally pull away from Luke's warm embrace, she lifted her teary gaze to meet his soft, brown eyes. She then watched as he parted his lips so he could speak. "I won't side with my father," He told her, staring down at the girl with sincere look burning in his dark eyes.
A half smile found its way to Feyre's lips, a soft chuckle leaving her lips in the process. "I don't think we have a choice in the matter, Luke," She reminded him, her words only making Luke shake his head in response.
"I won't fight you, Feyre," Luke repeated, making sure she heard him loud and clear. "Listen, the gods can dictate our lives all they want, but if there's one thing they won't make me do, it's go against you. I would rather die than hurt you," He explained.
Feyre felt it again. . . the butterflies. She felt the familiar flutter erupt in the pit of her stomach when she heard those words of affirmation leave Luke's lips. Although she was still terrified, the possibility of war hanging over her head, hearing those words was enough to bring a more genuine and warm smile to the girl's lips. To know he would never turn against her even at the request of the gods was all she needed to hear to ease the anxieties plaguing her mind. It reminded the girl that she could never turn against him either. Even in the midst of their darkest hours, she wouldn't turn her back on the boy, not even if the gods tried to bend her will to do so.
━━━━━━━━
If there was ever going to be a moment in Feyre Blanchard's life when she needed guidance, it was now. With her father playing a part in a war amongst his family and it being expected of her to join him if deemed necessary, well, Feyre was feeling lost, confused, and even scared about her part in all of this. She didn't ask for it. She didn't ask to be the daughter of a god. In fact, she knew life would be a whole lot simpler if she was just a normal teenage girl. However, the problem with that is that Feyre Blanchard was far from normal, and until the day she took her last breath, whenever that would be, she had no choice but to take part in their problems, even if it was the last thing she wanted.
And because she didn't have a choice in the matter, she had to turn to the one person she needed more than ever — her mom.
Later that day Feyre found herself sitting down on the rocky river bank alone, staring out at the open water, watching as the ripples danced across the surface, overlapping each other with the gentle current breezing through the water. Feyre always felt most content when she was looking out at the view in front of her, surrounded by the quiet where she could be alone with her thoughts without fear of disturbance, or someone else listening in on something that was meant to remain private. And what she was going to do, well, it was meant to be done in private. Feyre Blanchard was going to finally suck up the courage to talk to her mother again.
Feyre hasn't spoken to her mom in almost a week. She was too angry about not being able to come home, and too stubborn to apologise for a long time. For a while she believed she could live her life without her mom, thinking that was what the older woman wanted. But the longer she spent apart from her mom, the more alone she felt without any communication with her. Feyre felt cut off from the only parent who actually cared about her, and she was only just realising how ungrateful she had been. Her mom was the one to raise her and stand by her. She threw her entire life away to be a mom, and Feyre only threw all of that back into the woman's face without an inkling of remorse.
Feyre knew now was the time to apologise. Not only because the girl needed her mother's advice and guidance more than ever, but because it was the right thing to do.
The girl inhaled sharply before she dug her hand into the pocket of her trousers and retrieved a golden drachma. Feyre stared down at the object, fiddling with it for a moment before she lifted her gaze. She hoped and prayed to find a rainbow upon the horizon that would give her the form of communication the girl needed to talk to her mother. And when she believed all hope was loss, a beautiful shade of various colours glistened over the water with help from the sun, creating the rainbow she desperately desired. Feyre breathed a sigh of relief before she flicked the golden drachma towards the rainbow.
"Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering," Feyre spoke freely, pleading with the goddess above in hopes she would find the golden drachma of value to her. "Show me home," She stated politely.
Feyre's heart hammered hard against her chest while she continued to stare at the shimmering rainbow hovering above the ripples of water. When she saw the rainbow contort into some sort of screen and showed a rough image of her kitchen, a small smile broke out across the girl's lips before she parted them to speak again. "Mom? Are you there?" She asked.
However, Feyre was only met with silence in return. This caused for the girl to furrow her brows together in confusion. Her mom shouldn't be working today and she made sure to call her in the morning as her mom never leaves the house to run errands until the afternoon because she normally spent the morning cleaning the house and making sure it was in good shape, so she wouldn't have to worry about it later. It was a routine Feyre had grown accustomed to during her years at home, and even when she was at camp, she knew the dates and times to call her mom so they would never miss each other.
So Feyre couldn't help but wonder why her mom wasn't answering now. It wasn't like her at all. Maybe because of their argument earlier that week she got out of their routine because Feyre refused to talk to her. But that couldn't be it either. Her mom would always wait to hear from her. Feyre was her daughter, and like any mom, she was there to pick her child off the ground when she needed it most of all.
But before Feyre could call out for her mother again, the rainbow faded, causing for the Iris Message to close down, fading into thin air and leaving Feyre alone once again. The girl let out an agitated sigh, picking up a stone from beside her and throwing it, skimming it across the surface of the river. She didn't understand. Her mom should've answered her call like she always did. It wasn't normal for her to just ignore Feyre during a time when the girl needed her most of all. It made Feyre begin to wonder if she should be worried about her mother, and if the woman's safety had been jeopardised without her being there to protect her.
But then again, she was actually a whole lot safer with Feyre hundreds of miles away. Feyre decided to push the thought to the back of her skull for now, believing this was a one off thing and she would talk to her mom again soon. So she breathed out a sigh and continued to bask in the peace and content in the atmosphere surrounding her.
Feyre just hoped Delia was having more luck than she was.
━━━━━━━━
authors note.
Feyre realising she has feelings for Luke, some cutesy moments between them both and some foreshadowing??? And what about Feyre's mum??? Where is she??? 👀
Also the next couple of chapters will focus on Delia, her character development, and the quest where you guys will finally learn her backstory!!
Until then I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'll update again soon!!