❝ I'D PROBABLY STILL ADORE YOU WITH YOUR HANDS AROUND MY NECK. ❞
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AT CAMP JUPITER, THE ONLY WAY OF GETTING NOTICED WAS BY PROVING YOUR WORTH. Not exactly the best method in regards to teenage mental health in Dawn's opinion, but it was simply the Roman way.
Get your hands dirty, get recognition. Blow some shit up, you get a medal.
Dawn had easily proved herself when she had first come to camp by setting about twenty different monsters on fire. A feat that landed her big attention. Especially with the gods and praetor at the time.
As a daughter of Victoria, it was in her nature to love the idea of going on quests and rise to the top of the ranks as a demigod. And she did just that. She strived for victory. Always. Everyone knew this.
But now, for the first time in her short ass life, Dawn wasn't feeling so happy to be going on a quest. Especially since she was with the biggest dumbass in demigod history.
A quest where she would undoubtedly be forced to spend quality time with the stubborn, fish-for-brains guy who almost kissed her. The asshole who just showed up and attracted more attention from the gods than anyone ever. The guy who teased her, and never backed down from a fight, and sometimes held her hand. She didn't like it one bit.
But for some damn reason, Dawn couldn't help but feel like sprinting back into his Cohort and making out with him until the sun rose.
But instead, she calmly walked to her and Reyna's Praetorian chambers while sharpening one of her many blood stained daggers. She fell asleep to the haunting picture of his deep sea green eyes, and the smell of salt water and lavender.
She had dreams, of course. She always had dreams, but this time they passed like burning images in a blazing fire. She saw flashes of her field of lavender, and the dusty brown hues that painted the soft soil. She saw a picture of herself as an eight year old, sitting calmly in a field of corn stacks and lavender. The scene was serene in an almost eerie way. And suddenly, Dawn didn't feel very safe looking at the field of lavender.
She felt... stuck.
No harm could come to her, and no change could follow. It was as if that single memory of her eight year old self was suspended in honey. Holding her in place until she slowly lost her mind.
The dream shifted to an older twelve year old Dawn. A gleeful smile placed on her rosie cheeks, as she leapt through forests with Lupa and her pack of wolves.
And then it all just stopped. The scene shifted slowly into a battlefield. A slightly older, much more powerful looking Dawn standing in front of hundreds of demigod soldiers with seven other kids by her side. She couldn't see their faces, but she felt so close to them. As if she'd known them all her life.
