Chapter Text
I walked up the winding steps up to the Oracle. As I traveled down the hallway, I passed many articles and spoils of war. I finally came to a stop at the mummified Oracle. I was half tempted to ask it, ‘When will I finally die?’ However, I realized it was probably a little too dark.
Instead, I said, “Hit me with your best shot.” I slumped against the wall behind me and crossed my arms as I waited for the Oracle to respond.
“You shall go west, and face the god who has turned,” She started, her voice eerie, and sent chills down my spine.
She spun the image of Sally Jackson running for her life in front of me with mist. The woman I’d condemned to death was running away from me, head turned back towards me and speak in tandem with the Oracle. I watched with as much detachment as I could manage, as she ran for her life.
“You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned,” She continued. I leaned against the wall, thankful that for once things were per canon, but feeling chills down my spine as I stared at Sally running for her life. “You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,” she said, and I watched as Sally’s eyes widened in fear as she spoke at what she saw behind her, “And you shall fail to achieve what you wish in the end.” With the last words, Sally was cut down in front of me, but the image of who did it concealed. I could feel a minute trembling at the image of Sally falling, slashed across her back and the panic and terror and her eyes.
Bringing myself back to the present and closing my eyes to will away the image of her death, I tilted my head at her words, curious as I just knew they weren’t the original ones said to Percy. And why would they? Sally Jackson was already dead. There was no saving her. I had an idea what the Oracle was saying, but it couldn’t be that simple, right?
I stood in place for another moment, waiting to see if she had anything more to say, but she didn’t. I turned around, eyes still clenched closed and stumbled towards where I’d left Chiron, Annabeth and Grover. I felt my way back, aiming for the walls and none of the spoils of war. When I came to the stairs leading down from the attic, I opened my eyes again and traveled down.
Annabeth was missing upon making it back. I turned to ask Chiron, but he explained before I could fully ask. “She went to get some supplies for your trip.” Ah, I thought. Money, ambrosia and nectar. “What did the Oracle have to say?” He asked.
“‘You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.’” I recited. Grover turned immediately to Chiron, but Chiron held a hand up quietly and waited for me to continue. “‘You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned.’” Chiron nodded along, assured we would return the Lightning Bolt. “‘You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,’” I said, ignoring the look of fear on Grover’s face and the tempered one on Chiron’s. “‘And you shall fail to achieve what you wish in the end.’”
“You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.” Chiron rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Your quest is to find Zeus’ masterbolt and bring it back to him.”
“It was stolen,” I stated hollowly.
“Yes,” He agreed. “There is only one god in the west - Hades. You must face him, claim Zeus’ masterbolt and bring it back safely to the king of the gods. ‘You shall find what is stolen and see it safely returned. You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,’ any idea of who that may be?” He asked. I shook my head silently, not willing to lie or pretend to speculate. His eyebrows were furrowed in thought before he continued on. “‘And you shall fail to achieve what you wish in the end.’” The look he sent me was inquisitive. I refused to rise to his bait, unwilling to admit I had plans A-D already on how to miraculously die on this quest.
“Why couldn’t it be Maine?” Grover mumbled. I turned to see him stuffing playing cards in his mouth. I shook my head before coming to a decision.
“I’ve got an idea on how to get to the Underworld without running into too many monsters or taking too much time, since the Summer Solstice is coming up fast. No, I won’t explain,” I declared at Chiron’s questioning look. “I just need drachma. And lots of it. A fair amount of cash would be good, too.”
Chiron seemed all too willing to give me my requests as he sent Grover ahead to have Annabeth get more drachma and money than she’d planned originally.
It was when we were standing at the hill waiting to leave when I was stopped by Chiron and handed the infamous pen. I held onto for a few seconds before leveling Chiron a judgemental look. “I don’t know what it was like back in your day, Chiron, but women don’t get pockets anymore.” To add injury to my insult, I patted my pants that didn’t have pockets pointedly.
“I’m sorry, Rhea,” He said sincerely. “I forget that times have changed. Allow me to fix that.” He took back the pen and it transformed into a seashell hair clip before my eyes. He handed it back to me with a small smile on his face. “There, I think that’s better.”
I held it in the palm of my hand, almost unsure. Finally, I clipped the corner of my parted hair back. It was a bit weird, and I wasn’t all too sure about the seashell, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. I now had the infamous riptide and a dagger. Luke came running up then, a box of what had to be flying shoes in them. He handed them over to us and I took them with false gratitude, smiling brightly - if fakely - at him.
We’d been offered a ride, but I’d refused claiming I had a plan. The five of them turned to me in expectation. “What?” I asked.
“Well, Jackson?” Annabeth hedged with a fine mixture of trepidation and dubiousness.
I reached into the bag of items Annabeth had been given by camp and pulled out a drachma. I took a deep breath, reciting the words in my mind and translating them before announcing aloud, “Stêthi 'Ô hárma diabolês!” I turned to grin unrepentantly at Annabeth, Grover and Chiron, seeing a look of panic on Annabeth and Grover’s faces. There was a stifle of a snicker behind us from Luke. I ignored him and waited for the taxi to arrive.
When it did, it did with a large amount of flair.
“Wait !” Annabeth shouted, but was stopped by me opening the door and shoving her into the taxi a bit roughly. I did the same to Grover and jumped in quickly before either could climb out.
“Do you have a death wish, Jackson?” Annabeth hissed before her face paled.
I raised an eyebrow temptingly then turned towards the sisters and held up a handful of drachma. “I believe you have an out of area fee, would you be interested in a bargain?” My humorless smirk was sickly sweet and sinful.
It took some bargaining, but the Gray Sisters were more than happy to take us where we wanted, well, after a little bargaining.
It was as we were thrown from side to side in the car and I had to hold a bag for Grover to puke in when Annabeth grabbed my wrist tightly. I turned to look at her as I continued to help Grover manage his nausea. Her eyes were wide. “How are we going to get out of the Underworld?”
“Wait,” I said, barely avoiding clashing with her as we took a fast turn. “The plan is to get into the Underworld, not out.” Grover groaned next to me at my words and there was a hiss of displeasure from Annabeth.
“We need a way out as well, Seaweed Brain.”
My elbow dug into Grover’s sternum, causing another low groan from him as the Gray Sisters made another fast turn. “Sorry, Grover,” I said with a fast intake of breath. “I’ll find a way out for you guys, for sure. No worries.”
“We’re not just going to leave you there,” She said, almost sounding worried. She clutched the side of the door tightly and had her feet firmly braced on the floor.
“Listen, Annabeth. As long as you know who gets his fancy weapon back, no need to be worried. Right?”
Her look said everything about how she felt about that statement. Even so, she focused again on not being thrown out of the car and we succumbed to silence aside from the sound of retching from Grover.
3rd POV
Dionysus was many things. Rude, unkind, and selfish were the first words many would came up with when asked. One thing that would never be said aloud about him, although true, would be that he cared too much.
He made his way up in the elevator towards Olympus. He knew he was a harsh man, and thought to be very facetious at times. He had seen so many demigods come and go; he’d had to show disinterest and not show the amount of love he felt for so many of his own children. The rules were absolute, and allowed no wiggle room as much as many of the gods wanted.
Dionysus often distanced himself from the demigods, creating a barrier, well aware they would all die eventually. Being in a place to raise demigods - especially his own children - and be unable to provide true assistance and watch them quickly fall was not a position any of the gods would want to be in. While his father may have stated he wanted Dionysus to “build up the youth” and not “tear them down,” it wouldn’t be too difficult to say that it would be punishment enough to watch his own children have no relationship with him, and be felled by monsters.
It was why when Rhea Jackson came, he was very interested in her. Her attitude, while not unlike the others in how frustrated they were with the gods, was more brash, and she often brought up many things no one had before, or had the guts to. The life of a hero is not one Dionysus himself would want, and he could see her irritation.
Dionysus knew she was legitimately struggling with her mental health and the rage of being a child abandoned by her father and having just lost her mother, but his harshness towards her was meant to temper her more. She was the change Olympus needed, if she would just temper herself and make the right decisions. Things needed to change; things had been too stagnant in the thousands of years they’d been alive.
He was harsh with her, not that he would admit it aloud. However, she needed to accomplish big things. She must.
He passed many minor gods, as well as nymphs and many more on his way to the throne room. As always, his family was arguing with each other heatedly as he walked in. He ignored it all with practice and sat down heavily in his seat.
He twitched as Apollo leaned over and tried to quietly speak to him. Quietly being a funny term for the god of the sun, archery and more. Despite his domain, he had a very interesting view of what stealth was.
“What a show last night, right, D?” He asked in a voice that was not at all quiet. It drew the attention of their other companion, and often Apollo’s partner in crime, Hermes.
“It was,” Hermes agreed, leaning in and managing to be quieter than Apollo, most likely due to his domains. “Didn’t expect that. Wonder who summoned the hellhound, though.” He said to himself, not expecting an answer.
Apollo hummed in response. “Uncle H couldn’t have,” He reasoned. He put his chin in his hand as he thought. “Unless he had assistance from within camp.” He sent Dionysus a piercing look at those words.
Dionysus was uncomfortable with this line of conversation, not sure how the hellhound had gotten in, and concerned his father would be bringing it up in due time, not to mention Poseidon about the safety of his first mortal daughter.
Sure enough, as Dionysus listened in on the yelling between Poseidon and Zeus, the topic was Poseidon’s first mortal daughter. With a long suffering sigh, Dionysus leaned back in his throne and patiently awaited for the meeting to officially start. It may take some time for the gods to settle down enough to talk rationally. If only they were quieter and Dionysus could take a nap.
He was brought back to present by the shout of his name. He looked up at the person who yelled at him. His father. What had he said?
He managed to hold back a cringe at the fierce looks on both Zeus and Poseidon. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He asked in a drawl.
“The girl has been impertinent. Dionysus has had to threaten her to stay in line many times now. She should not be the child of prophecy!” Zeus yelled. Ah, so not a question, just an angry statement on his father’s part. Dionysus slumped back into his throne. In the clear.
That is, until Poseidon yelled back, “If you’ve been watching her, you are aware she is unwell!”
Zeus waved his hand at her brother dismissively. “All a farce, brother. No human is that insistent.” Dionysus raised an eyebrow skeptically at that claim, well aware that Rhea was completely sincere in her wishes.
Even Apollo murmured quietly next to him, “Even I know that’s not true, and I’ve only been watching bits and pieces.” There was a firm nodding by Hermes next to him.
Dionysus saw Artemis’ face twitch at the words.
“You will not hurt her.” Poseidon warned.
“Even if that’s what she wishes?” Dionysus interjected, just to be devil’s advocate and to gauge the rest of the council’s thoughts.
Poseidon turned his harsh gaze on him, pinning him in place with it. “You of all people know she is not in the right state of mind.”
Apollo broke the silence from that statement with a hum. “Would that be considered assisted suicide, then, dad? If you did help her?” His face was twisted in thought. “Is that…morally right?” His question caused the others to blink in surprise.
That seemed to make Zeus pause, if only for a minute.
Then the arguing started again.
Dionysus laid his chin in his palm and closed his eyes, resenting his existence for once and trying to ignore the loud shouts around him.
