Of Greeks And Romans (Leo Valdez x Reader)

XXIV

Percy

It felt nice for Percy to finally sleep in a real bed, but he never expected his dreams to he so weird. He woke, shivering even though it wasn't cold in the bunker. It was his dream that had terrified him.

He flashed back into the dream for a moment. The satyr that was looking for him, and some guy named Tyson. He was so sure for a moment that the goat boy was going to eat something he shouldn't.

Then, there was Anabeth. She seemed so relieved to see him, and it made him wonder how long she had been searching. Junior had said that he had been slumbering for a long time. How long? He had no idea.

Then she was gone. The images accelerated. He saw a huge ship in a dry dock, workers scrambling to finish the hull, a guy with a blowtorch welding a bronze dragon figurehead to the prow. He saw the war god stalking toward him in the surf, a sword in his hands. He even had seen Y/n there. It looked as if she was standing somewhere talking to someone, the pain was clear on her face. If his run in with her after the war games wasn't enough to tell him something was wrong, this was telling him all he needed to know. She was in trouble, in some way. Percy just had no idea how to help her if he didn't know the true problem.

Then the scene shifted. It could have been the same field for all he knew, but Y/n was gone. Instead, a face appeared in the landscape—a sleeping woman, her features formed from shadows and folds in the terrain. Her eyes remained closed, but her voice spoke in Percy’s mind:

So this is the demigod who destroyed my son Kronos. You don’t look like much, Percy Jackson, but you’re valuable to me. Come north. Meet Alcyoneus. Juno can play her little games with Greeks and Romans, but in the end, you will be my pawn. You will be the key to the gods’ defeat. But don't worry little demigod, you won't even be able to refuse.

The scene changed again. He stood in a theater-sized version of the camp’s headquarters—a principia with walls of ice and freezing mist hanging in the air. The floor was littered with skeletons in Roman armor and Imperial gold weapons encrusted with frost. In the back of the room sat an enormous shadowy figure. His skin glinted of gold and silver, as if he were an automaton like Reyna’s dogs. Behind him stood a collection of ruined emblems, tattered banners, and a large golden eagle on a staff of iron.

The giant’s voice boomed in the vast chamber. “This will be fun, son of Neptune. It’s been eons since I broke a demigod of your caliber. I await you atop the ice.”

Then, he was back on his bunk, shaking himself from the images of his dreams that had been terrifying. What did it all mean?

He sat up in his bunk. His roommates were rushing around, getting dressed and brushing their teeth. Dakota was wrapping himself in a long piece of red-speckled cloth—a toga. One of the Lares was giving him pointers on where to tuck and fold.

“Breakfast time?” Percy asked hopefully.

Frank’s head popped up from the bunk below. He had bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept well. “A quick breakfast. Then we’ve got the senate meeting.”

Dakota’s head was stuck in his toga. He staggered around like a Kool-Aid-stained ghost.

“Um,” Percy said, “should I wear my bed sheets?”

Frank snorted. “That’s just for the senators. There’re ten of them, elected yearly. You’ve got to be at camp five years to qualify.”

“So how come we’re invited to the meeting?”

“Because…you know, the quest.” Frank sounded worried, like he was afraid Percy would back out. “We have to be in on the discussion. You, me, Hazel. I mean, if you’re willing…”