Coming of Age (Percy Jackson)

 

… Hestia knows she should be patient, calm, and respectful with her little brother. After all, while she might be the older sister, Zeus was still the King of the Gods. Moreover, she knew how Zeus could be. She knew how he could get and also how he reacted to perceived disrespect. By all rights, she should have just bit her lip, held it all in, and taken it on the chin.
 
But she couldn’t. After the day she’d had, Hestia simply couldn’t hold it in anymore. Snarling, the Goddess of the Hearth balls her hands into fists as she glares at nothing and everything at once.
 
“Given the tree that sits atop Half-Blood Hill to this day, I don’t really think you have room to talk, brother. Or should I have pointed out HER existence to the others as well when it came to my attention?”
 
Silence falls. Palpable silence. Silence that Hestia knows is more because Zeus is shocked that she’s talking back to him, not because he’s actually been shamed into a round of introspection or anything like that. Still, Hestia capitalizes on it all the same, deciding to go for broke while she has the floor so to speak.
 
“And frankly, I don’t like your TONE little brother. I am DEALING with my own issues right now. SOMEONE set a hellhound loose in MY Domain. Someone has launched a direct attack on MY Hearth! Someone has made an attempt on one of MY camper’s LIVES!”
 
Rising from her chair at long last, Hestia snarls.
 
“Now, admittedly I don’t think you’re the one who did it, brother. I don’t think you conspired to have a hellhound summoned into MY Domain just to strike at a boy of barely eighteen years of age. I know it’s not your style. But let me make one thing CLEAR, Zeus. It doesn’t matter to me that Percy is Poseidon’s son anymore than it mattered that Thalia was your daughter! Camp Half-Blood is MINE to administer, a safe haven for all, and I’m not about to let YOU or ANYONE else change that! Not even for a moment!”
 
The fireplace next to her blazes with her anger and only Hestia’s control over her surroundings and her Hearth keeps it from flat out burning the Big House down on the spot. Slowly, she pulls herself back together in the silence that follows, waiting for her brother’s response. Hestia is smart enough to know that Zeus isn’t going to apologize. She’s also smart enough to know that her little outburst will likely have consequences.
 
… But this particular dressing down was a long time coming and truth be told, very cathartic. Standing tall with her head held high and her back straight, Hestia waits for her brother’s response, ready for whatever wrath he’s going to bring down on her head for daring to talk back to him.
 
YOU WOULD EVEN PROTECT A THIEF THEN, WOULD YOU?
 
Though… that wasn’t what Hestia was expecting. When Zeus finally responds, and in such a dangerous tone, Hestia can’t bring herself to be all that afraid. Instead she’s more confused than anything else. Her brow furrows and she shakes her head.
 
“What do you mean?”
 
THE BOY! OR DO YOU THINK IT COINCIDENCE THAT POSEIDON’S GET WOULD SHOW UP AT THE SAME TIME MY MASTER BOLT WENT MISSING?! HE IS OBVIOUSLY THE THIEF!
 
For a long moment, Hestia just stares forward blankly. Then… she laughs. She throws her head back and laughs because the very idea is… is absurd. Of course, she immediately feels Zeus’ displeasure. He doesn’t have to put it into words for her to feel the Skyfather’s weight pressing down on her Domain. Laughter abruptly cutting off, Hestia glares and grits her teeth as she reinforces her Hearth, pushing back while also biting out her response.
 
“You must be joking.”
 
I AM NOT.
 
The pressure alleviates a bit, but Hestia continues glaring and grinding her teeth together.
 
“Then allow me to explain something to you, brother. Percy Jackson knows nothing of our world. He knows nothing of yours and Poseidon’s feud either! He is completely green in every possible way. He did not even know the danger he was in until a few weeks ago when the monsters started sniffing him out! He didn’t even know he was a demigod until his mother was taken by the Minotaur, for fuck’s sake!”
 
She tries to keep her response measured, calm, and collected… but even this latest attempt ends with her shouting rather crass language at her brother.
 
WAIT. MINOTAUR?
 
However, that’s not what Zeus focuses on. Hestia furrows her brow again and frowns.
 
“… Yes. Percy and his mother were attacked by the Minotaur. His mother was kidnapped but Percy managed to slay the Minotaur and arrived in Camp Half-Blood soon after.”
 
THE BOY SLEW THE MINOTAUR AND YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE HE KNEW NOTHING OF OUR WORLD.
 
Hestia grimaces, recognizing full well how it sounds. Yes, Percy’s feat regarding the Minotaur was, to put it succinctly, incredible.
 
“He was not… armed or anything like that. He had to use the monster’s own horn against it to deal the killing blow…”
 
… SO YOU’RE SAYING THAT HE KILLED IT WITH HIS BAREHANDS. IS THAT IT?
 
Wincing now, the Goddess of the Hearth bites her lower lip. Before she can muster a response, Zeus speaks again. Now he is the one pressing the advantage.
 
AND YOU MENTIONED A HELLHOUND AS WELL. SENT TO KILL POSEIDON’S SPAWN YES? I WONDER. IF PERCY JACKSON IS SO INNOCENT, WHY DOES HADES WANT HIM DEAD?
 
Hestia flinches. She hadn’t wanted to think about that. About the possibility that the most obvious answer was the correct one. A hellhound somehow managing to break through into her Domain? Hades could do it. Perhaps. But she didn’t think he had. She didn’t want to believe he had. And yet… it was also the first thought that Zeus had jumped to as well.
 
NO MATTER. COUNT YOURSELF FORTUNATE, DEAR SISTER. MY LOVE FOR YOU OVERFLOWS EVEN WITH YOUR WORDS. BUT YOU MUST BE HELD TO ACCOUNT. PRESENT YOURSELF TO ME ATOP MOUNT OLYMPUS IMMEDIATELY.
 
With that, Zeus hangs up on her. At least, that’s the best way to describe it. His presence leaves Camp Half-Blood and all remaining pressure vanishes as she finds herself abruptly and totally alone in the Big House. Slumping back down into her chair, Hestia puts her head in one hand and groans.
 
To say she’s incensed would be an understatement, but at the same time, she knows she can’t ignore a direct order from Zeus, King of the Gods. That said, she also knows he can’t actually DO anything truly impactful to her so long as she plays her cards right. Summon her before him? Sure. Dress her down verbally? Oh, she’s almost certainly in for a tongue-lashing most definitely.
 
But while the next generation of Gods and Goddesses had to be a bit more careful of incurring Zeus’ wrath, going after any of his siblings TOO hard would usually result in all of them rising up in arms against him.
 
… Unfortunately, it wasn’t herself who Hestia had to be worried about. While she was tied up on Mount Olympus, Camp Half-Blood would remain her Domain. It would still be where her Hearth rested. However, she would NOT be there to personally oversee it. Meaning that more incidents like the hellhound or possibly even worse could potentially occur.
 
Zeus wouldn’t even have to do anything himself. He now knew for a fact that there were others who wanted Percy dead as much as he did. All he had to do was distract her and Percy wouldn’t survive the week.
 
Gritting her teeth, Hestia tenses up in supreme frustration, wanting nothing more than to scream. But in the end… she lets it all out in an explosive breath instead. Releasing the air from within her lungs is somewhat therapeutic for the Goddess of the Hearth, and as she slowly deflates she reflects that it’s not ALL bad.
 
For instance, if Zeus had known that Percy was Adonis’ reincarnation, he DEFINITELY would have brought it up in the course of their conversation. The fact that he hadn’t meant that he still didn’t know… that none of her fellow divines knew the truth just yet. That was good. That was very good. However, it also made this situation even more precarious than it already was, didn’t it?
 
She could not refuse Zeus’ summons. Not without giving him ammunition to use against her that even their brothers and sister would not be able to ignore. However, even if she left and Percy survived her absence, there was always the possibility that Zeus would get fed up with waiting and summon PERCY himself to account for the Skyfather’s missing Master Bolt. It didn’t matter that Hestia knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Percy hadn’t stolen it. Ultimately, Zeus still believed he had.
 
In the end, she really only had one choice, didn’t she? With a low sigh, Hestia reaches out and summons Chiron to her side. Within a couple of minutes the centaur steps into the Big House, moving to where she’s seated staring into the fire place.
 
“Goddess. What is your Will?”
 
Pressing her lips together in a thin line, Hestia questions whether she’s REALLY going to do this for a moment. But in the end… the answer is yes. The answer HAS to be yes. Because there’s no other option.
 
“Chiron. I have been summoned to Mount Olympus to account for myself.”
 
Beside her, Chiron’s eyes widen and he goes stiff, knowing full well what that means. Smiling softly, Hestia waves off his concern.
 
“Do not fret my friend. At least… do not fret for me. It is not I who we need to worry about. Here’s what I need you to do while I’m gone…”
 
Hestia speaks and Chiron listens. And together they conspire to save the life of one Percy Jackson. No matter the cost.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“Through here, Percy. And remember, listen carefully. The Oracle does not oft repeat herself.”
 
“Err… right.”
 
Just when he thought he was getting a handle on things, everything goes to shit. Percy resists the urge to rub his forehead as Chiron gestures for him to climb up to the attic of the Big House. Letting out an explosive sigh, he does as he’s told. What other choice does he have, really?
 
Hestia is gone. That’s the key thing. The Goddess of the Hearth has left Camp Half-Blood, called to Mount Olympus by Lord Zeus himself apparently. And it was all Percy’s fault. Or at least, they were blaming it on him. Chiron had explained everything that Percy needed to know and yet he found himself wishing he didn’t know it.
 
Zeus’ Master Bolt had apparently been stolen. A divine artifact of immense power. And of course, Zeus thought that Poseidon… or rather, Percy as Poseidon’s son, had taken it. Apparently, Zeus and Poseidon had been fighting over it for months and now Percy showing up and being claimed as his father’s son was like throwing gasoline on a fire.
 
Hestia had tasked Chiron with giving Percy a quest. A quest to find and retrieve Zeus’ Master Bolt before things could go from bad to worse. And in accepting that quest, Percy was now expected to speak with the Oracle, to talk to her about what said quest would entail.
 
As he enters the attic, Percy wrinkles his nose at the dust. Not just dust either, but also cobwebs. Oh, and a bunch of junk. Armor stands, shields, trunks. There was even an entire bookcase dedicated to glass jars filled with numerous pickled things.
 
However, the most disturbing thing was definitely the mummy sitting on a stool of all things by the attic window. Not an Egyptian-looking mummy either. No, she was completely unwrapped and… and wearing a sundress of all things.
 
Just looking at her was horrifying enough, but as Percy steps deeper into the attic, things get way more horror movie-esque when she suddenly sits up and opens her mouth.
 
Approach seeker. I am the Spirit of Delphi, Speaker of Prophecies. Approach and ask.
 
Right. That was what he was here for. Apparently whenever demigods from Camp Half-Blood went on these divine quests, they received guidance from the Oracle. It was Tradition with a Capital T and as much as Percy wished he could decline it, it didn’t seem like something he could say no to. So… here he was.
 
“Fine. Tell me what I need to know.”
 
There’s a brief pause… and then an ethereal feminine voice echoes through his mind.
 
You shall go west and face the god who has turned.
You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned.
You shall be betrayed by one you call ally.
And you shall fail to save what matters most in the end.
 
Percy grimaces as the words wash over him. He finds himself quietly contemplating each sentence on its own. Good to hear that he would seemingly succeed in his quest. But facing down a God who had ‘turned’ sounded terrifying. Being betrayed sounded like it was really going to suck. And last but not least… what mattered most? Fuck that was ominous.
 
By the time he gets out of his own head, the mummy is still once more. Letting out a short sigh, Percy descends back down from the attic to find Chiron still waiting for him.
 
“Well?”
 
For a moment, Percy considers withholding some or even all of the prophecy from the centaur. On the one hand, Percy has rapidly decided he hates the very idea of prophecy. He would much prefer to just go with his gut and make his own luck… his own fate. Unfortunately, now that he’s knee deep in this Greek Bullshit, Percy is well aware that he doesn’t get to necessarily make his own fate anymore.
 
And Chiron… Chiron is experienced with all of this heroism business in a way Percy can only hope to lean on. So he tells him. He repeats the entire prophecy verbatim to the centaur, causing Chiron to go quiet for several long minutes in consideration.
 
Finally though, he breaks that silence with a heavy breath.
 
“… My advice to you is to focus on the first pair of lines, not the second. The first line in particular tells you where you need to start your quest at least. Everything else will happen as it is meant to and all you can do is your best to overcome. This betrayal… what matters most… these are distractions, Percy. Your first priority needs to be tracking down the Master Bolt. Only then will you be able to clear your and your father’s names.”
 
Honestly? Good advice. Still, some things are easier said than done. How is Percy not supposed to worry himself sick over who was going to betray him? How is he supposed to set aside that he’s apparently going to lose what matters most?
 
“Now though… you need to decide exactly who you’re taking with you on this quest.”
 
Percy blinks at that… and then blanches a little bit as he catches Chiron’s meaningful gaze. Right. That WAS a good question, wasn’t it? After all, Clarisse was still technically beholden to him for the rest of the week. Meanwhile, Annabeth would most definitely want to come. But could he risk taking both girls along? Or was it better to only take one?