rewritten: april 15, 2021; edited: november 21, 2021 & august 3 & 5, 2023
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"Hurry up, Perce!"
Percy snaps out of his daze, shaking his head and jogging up to Grover. He had been busy looking around him at Camp Half-Blood with awe, not even aware that his feet had stopped moving and Grover had continued ahead without him. "Sorry," Percy apologizes, falling into step beside his best friend.
Grover waves it off. "No worries. You seem a bit lost, what's up?"
Percy shrugs, "It's just that . . ." He sighs, thinking about how to phrase his question. "Earlier, you kept saying 'we'. We couldn't tell you, we needed to keep you safe, we thought you should come to camp after being attacked. So—"
"—who's the other person?" Grover finishes, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and Percy nods.
"Yeah, pretty much."
Grover chuckles lightly, looking ahead with gentle admiration in his expression. "You're already ahead of the game, Percy." He shakes his head in amusement. "I was just about to introduce you."
Percy looks up from his feet, squinting at the figure approaching in the distance. At first glance, he assumes he's watching a person ride a horse, but upon closer inspection, he realizes it to be—
"Mr. Brunner?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed. But it wasn't just Mr. Brunner—it was Mr. Brunner's top half (which remains very much human) that sits atop the lower half of a horse's body. "You- you're a centaur?" Percy comes to the realization, earning a nod.
"In my world, I am called Chiron," Percy's apparently-not-human-and-not-a-real-teacher-but-now-former-teacher explains.
Percy nods, surprising himself with how easily he accepts the truth. "So, the wheelchair . . .?" he starts, catching on.
Chiron smiles. "It was a cover-up," he says. He pats Percy's shoulder, his expression now apologetic. "I am truly sorry I couldn't tell you, but it was necessary to keep you safe."
Percy nods, tired of the whole 'we kept it from you to keep you from dying and shit' explanation after arguing about it less than an hour ago.
"So, Chiron," Grover says, drawing attention to himself, "are we gonna initiate him today, or what?"
Percy looks at his best friend, startled at the way that sentence sounds. "There's an initiation?" he asks. His stomach twists with concern.
Chiron chuckles at his expression. "Of sorts," he answers cryptically. Turning to Grover, he nods. "I think we will. Show him to the armory."
"The armory?" Percy asks, looking between Grover and Chiron, who has started walking away.
Grover laughs, tugging on Percy's arm and walking off. "Come on!"
Percy nervously follows behind, hoping that his best friend will provide explanation.
"Now, don't be startled, but we're getting you armored up because you're gonna be playing Capture the Flag with the others today."
Percy shakes his head. "Grover. No," he says, crossing his arms and coming to a halt. Grover raises an eyebrow, stopping as well.
"Percy. Yes."
Percy's protests continue to be ignored as Grover pulls on his arms, dragging him around campers and flag poles. "Okay, okay!" Percy groans, and the satyr lets go of him. "Thank you." Percy dusts himself off, and Grover nods in acknowledgement of his words.
Percy sighs. "Okay. Why do I need armor for- for Capture the Flag?"
Grover blinks at him in confusion before his eyes go wide, and he lets out an "Oh!" while slapping his forehead with his palm. "I totally forgot! You haven't played before!" Grover says, shaking his head. Percy furrows his eyebrows.
"Sure, I have. You separate into teams and there's a flag on either end of the gym." Percy shrugs, continuing, "Each team defends the flag, and if you get tagged, then—you know, is there even a gym here? I don't see one." Percy looks around, confused as to how such a large group of people plays Capture the Flag without the proper setup.
Grover chuckles at his friend's oblivion, and he lets out an amused sigh before speaking. "You haven't played Camp Half-Blood Capture the Flag before," he corrects his previous words, gesturing for Percy to continue walking with him. "Every Friday, baby! Best game that camp has to offer!"
Percy hurriedly follows behind, still confused. "So why do I need armor?"
Grover laughs, throwing his head back slightly. "Because it's demigod-style. Weapons and everything."
Percy's eyes bulge, and he takes a moment to ensure he heard the words correctly. "Weapons?" he repeats, and Grover nods.
"Yep! It's super fun, though. You'll be great!"
"I don't know how to fight, Grover!" Percy nearly yells, but the satyr just shrugs.
"So learn."
Percy rolls his eyes as Grover continues ahead, picking up his pace to follow behind. (He grumbles bitterly about how "That's such fantastic advice, Grover. Just learn how to fight with weapons! Oh, okay, Grover, I'll go ahead and do that because it makes sense! Yes, let me just learn while I'm probably being skewered on the spot! That'll fucking work.")
He follows his best friend to a large metal shed. Teenagers file in and out, emerging with weapons and pieces of thick leather armor. Most notable are their helmets, plumed with red or blue; Percy can see a few competitive glares being shot across areas from red-helmeted to blue-helmeted campers and vice-versa.
"The armory." Grover holds out his arms, gesturing to the shed in all of its glory. "Pretty self-explanatory."
Percy nods, not saying anything as his eyes find their way to someone partially familiar.
Annabeth has a red helmet under her arm as she runs a hand through the roots of her hair, nodding with a smile as she speaks to the girl in front of her. The two lightly slap hands, and Annabeth turns to exit the armory. She glances at Percy with a scrutinizing expression. Suddenly feeling small, he offers her a meek smile.
Annabeth raises an eyebrow, shifting her attention to Grover. She smiles, bumping Grover's shoulder with her fist while passing, and Percy turns to watch her jog over to a group of teenagers decked in matching helmets.
He blinks before facing forward again. "Any particular reason why she seemed to disapprove of me?" he asks.
Grover chuckles. "She doesn't know you yet," he says, patting Percy's shoulder. "Give her time." He walks up to the armory's entrance, where racks of swords and other weapons are aligned with a few cubbies of armor, and Percy follows behind nervously.
"(Y/N)!" Grover calls out, waving to the girl Annabeth was speaking with earlier. Percy snaps his attention to her as she smiles at the satyr. He feels his heartbeat pick up at the expression. As he tries to collect himself, he feels a swell of relief when she doesn't yet acknowledge his existence.
"Hey, Goat Boy," (Y/N) greets, chuckling lightly. Her gaze moves over to Percy, and she gives him a warm smile.
As Percy's cheeks grow warm, a muscular boy with short black hair walks up, reaching over in front of (Y/N) to grab a helmet with a red plume. She leans backwards, giving him room.
"Hey, are you playing today?" the boy asks, straightening up as (Y/N) does the same.
"Sorry, Mark, I've got guard duty," she responds, shrugging apologetically. Mark sighs, shaking his head with false disappointment.
"We've lost all competition now, damn it," he says. (Y/N) playfully rolls her eyes, returning her attention to Percy. Mark follows her line of sight, turning and very obviously sizing him up. Percy tries to hide his anxious fidgets as Mark tilts his head. "You new here?"
Wordlessly, Percy forces a smile onto his face, nodding.
"Huh." Mark narrows his eyes briefly before letting out a light scoff, evidently unimpressed. "Word of advice: I'd stay out of things for now."
"So stay out of things," Percy instantly snaps back, regretting it the moment Mark's dark eyes seem to flicker with orange for a brief second.
"Look, newbie," he hisses. "You know nothing, okay? I'm doing you a favor."
The words were awfully familiar to what Gabe would always say.
Percy looks down in shame as Grover's jaw clenches. (Y/N)'s friendly expression instantly vanishes, her posture stiffening. She rests her hand on the sword's hilt at her side.
"I don't know, Mark," she says, tilting her head at Percy. "I think you may just lose your chances of victory if he's not on your team. Maybe you should stay out of it so your pride doesn't take a blow."
Percy snaps his eyes up at the change in her tone, surprised at her choice to defend him. Mark catches on to the ice in her voice as well, lifting his hands in surrender before walking off.
"Anyway," Grover says, drawing out the word, "could you help us out really quickly? We need some armor."
(Y/N) nods, amicability rushing back as though it had never left. "Yeah, no problem. I sort of put that much together, though."
She turns to Percy, looking him up and down, and a tiny smile tugs at one corner of her lips as she makes eye contact. "So, Blue," she starts, leaning against a sword rack, "I'm guessing you don't have a lot of sparring experience, right?"
Either she just checked him out (which Percy doubts would ever happen to him with anyone) or it was a questionable decision to wear a light blue t-shirt with navy jeans and a blue-grey jacket (hence the nickname that Percy actually takes a strong liking to). Grover nudges him in the side, snapping his attention back to the present.
Percy clears his throat, his neck heating up at her teasing expression. "Um, Percy. Percy Jackson," he says, rubbing the back of his neck, slightly flustered.
(Y/N) raises an eyebrow at the rambling that follows.
"A- And no, I don't have a lot of experience with um . . . sparring. Sword fighting. Being a demigod. The- the whole thing, really." He shrugs while trying to play it cool, his heart pounding with embarrassment as Grover struggles to contain his chuckles from beside him.
You stupid idiot, Percy Jackson, now she's gonna laugh at you because you're being so awkward! He mentally curses himself, trying not to let it show. Way to go, embarrassing yourself in front of a freakishly awesome fighter.
The girl in front of him doesn't laugh, however, instead looking at Percy with gentle amusement. "Grover told me your name," she says, shrugging. "It seems you like the color, though, and I personally think the name suits you. That is, if you're okay with me calling you that. I can always stick to 'Percy Jackson' if you prefer."
Percy's cheeks flush red, but he smiles, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. "No, um, I like it," he reassures, his racing heart slowing down as (Y/N) smiles.
Her kindness calms him.
"That's good," she says, pushing away from the sword rack. "I like it, too."
Percy watches as she picks up some different types of armor, glancing back and forth from the pieces to Percy before settling on them. "As for your sparring dilemma"—she chuckles, walking back over to the two boys and holding out the armor—"how about you try these on for size?"
Percy takes the armor from her hands, handing some of the pieces to Grover as he slips the chest guard over his head. Making sure it's secure, he puts on the shin pads and gestures for Grover to hand him the forearm guards. He fastens one on his left arm before sliding the second onto his right, struggling to tighten it.
"Oh, that might be a little too small," (Y/N) says, grabbing a new guard. "Let's try this one." She steps forward, taking Percy's right hand. Sparks jolt under his skin. She begins tightening the leather straps, and Percy clears his throat.
"You're, uh, Persephone's daughter, right?" he asks, and (Y/N) looks up from the guard, meeting his eyes.
"That's me," she confirms, smiling. "And you haven't been claimed yet, have you?"
Percy shakes his head, watching as she finishes tying the straps. "No, I- I haven't."
(Y/N) hums in acknowledgement, turning his forearm around and adjusting the guard from the top. "I'm sure you will soon," she says, patting his elbow gently in reassurance.
Percy smiles, quietly thanking her as she lets go of his arm.
"Of course," she says. "Welcome to camp, by the way."
Grover claps his hands once, almost as if to signify the end of Percy's need for assistance and a shift to a new topic. "So, (Y/N), you've got guard duty?" he asks, pausing before finishing, "Again?"
(Y/N) sighs. "Unfortunately. But I try to take it as a compliment." She shrugs, picking up a black bow and holding it out while pretending to aim at Grover. The satyr lets out an 'oomph' as she gently plucks the string, and (Y/N) does a small fist pump in victory. "Bullseye."
Percy chuckles at their antics, and (Y/N) picks up a black quiver with matching arrows, slinging it onto her back. "Well, I should get to the barrier now," her voice trails off as she checks her belt, making sure her sword is sheathed. As she tilts her head down, Percy's eyes are drawn to a thin scar running down the left side of her neck, crossing over to the front.
He has to admit, it looks pretty badass with her leather attire.
Percy snaps out of his thoughts as (Y/N) slides a dagger into a spare sheath on her thigh, adjusting her jacket before letting out a sigh. "Okay. I'll see you later, Grover," she says, pointing at him before directing her finger and attention to Percy. "And good luck out there, Blue. Just a tip"—she pauses, glancing around—"I'd try to stay by the creek as much as possible."
Percy furrows his eyebrows at her in confusion as she jogs away from the armory. His eyes then go wide when the ground rolls under her feet, seemingly at her command as it takes her to the edge of the woods in seconds.
Grover laughs at Percy's reaction. "You'll get used to it, Perce."
"I'm gonna be honest with you—"
"Well, that's good; I'm glad you don't lie to me on the daily," Grover interrupts, earning a small glare from Percy.
"—I didn't expect her to be that nice."
"Oh, yeah," Grover says as they start to walk side by side again. "She's, like, the best person to welcome new campers. She grew up here, so she knows the most about the place. People can be jealous, though, but they know not to get on her bad side. And it's good that she's friendly, because you do not want to make her mad."
Percy huffs a quiet scoff, but Grover turns to him with wide eyes.
"Perce, I'm being serious. Do not, ever, make her mad, because if Annabeth can squash you like a bug, (Y/N) is capable of turning you to dust and letting it blow away in the wind so no one will ever find you. And I am not exaggerating."
Percy swallows, his heart pounding a touch faster. However, his curiosity gets the better of him. "People are jealous?"
Grover nods, "Yep. She's the best swordsman . . . swordswoman?—"
"Swordsperson?" Percy offers, unsure of the legitimacy of the word, but it suffices for Grover.
"Yeah, swordsperson, that the camp has to offer. But she's also—oh, I could have just said warrior!" Grover slaps his forehead. "Obviously."
"Grover," Percy says, his eyebrows raised.
"Sorry, sorry. But, like I said: she grew up here. She's spent her life training to be a warrior."
Percy's eyes go wide. "She hasn't had a life outside of here?"
"Nope. She's the demigod poster child." Grover shrugs, rolling his eyes. "But she likes it here."
Percy furrows his eyebrows. The ease with which Grover speaks about (Y/N) brings a flood of intrigue to the front of his mind. "How do you know all this?" he asks.
Grover's lips turn up in a tiny smirk. "Because long before I met you"—he nudges his elbow into Percy's ribs—"I met her. She's one of my closest friends."
Percy's shoulders loosen with relief. "So that means she's less likely to . . . 'turn me into dust,' right?"
Grover snickers. "That depends. Because not only is she the camp's best warrior, she is, undoubtedly, the most powerful person here. In more ways than one."
Attacked by even more amazement, Percy opens his mouth to ask another question, but Grover cuts him off:
"Now, come on! This is always a fun game to watch!"
"I'm not gonna be watching, Grover!" Percy says, but his best friend waves it off.
"No, but I will!"
Grover shows Percy the way to the meeting point for Capture the Flag. His armor proves to be much more of a nuisance as he moves around, and he fiddles with his chest guard to try and let it rest comfortably on his shoulders.
"Ow, god, how do you guys wear this stuff?" he asks, tugging at the leather protection. "It weighs more than me."
Grover raises an eyebrow. "Gods," he corrects, nodding his head to the crowd of campers. "You'd best start thinking like a half-blood as soon as possible."
"I—"
"Just trust me. About the armor, too. Wear it or you'll get killed."
Percy's eyes bulge at Grover's words. "Wait, what- what? Grover, I'll get what?"
Grover just keeps walking, and Percy trails behind him, absolutely terrified.