Aquagirl (Fem. Percy x YJ)

78

"Who do you think it will be?" Garth asked. his fingers were laced with mine as we walked down the hall. "Our king usually informs us specifically when there are guests. Maybe a healer? Or a nobleman?"

"Both are equally likely," said Tula. "Or maybe the guest is supposed to be a surprise?"

Or perhaps the guest is a god and one not eager to reveal his true identity or motives. 

As we entered into the living room, Tula pulled me from Garth and towards the kitchen. I watched with veiled interest as she pulled out a plate and pans. Only once she scraped the freshly cooked eggs onto a plate did I realize what she was doing: showing me she did not put anything harmful in it. 

"Here." She handed me the plate and placed a fork onto it. "Eat up, or I'll tell your mother and we both know how that will end. She's gotten on my case for not eating, and all I did was forget to eat breakfast." 

I smiled. "Thank you, Tula." I almost mentioned that pancakes are much better than eggs, but my mind wandered to Aunt Sally. I would have to call her later, rip the band-aid off and allow her to tease me. 

A hand touched my shoulder; I jumped, sending my plate crashing down and shattering. Metal skittered over stone. I couldn't help it. I could not help the way my breath caught nor the way my instinctual reaction was to hurry to my room, mind screaming for me to get somewhere safe. There wasn't a place like that, but my room was the next option. I could hear them calling out to me, asking me to stop. Their words didn't register, not really. I stumbled through my door and sat on the floor. A rug sat under my butt, and as I closed my eyes and bowed my head forward I found myself grateful.

The door opened at some point; I didn't look up. Heavy footsteps entered my room, stopping right in front of me. The person said nothing, and I dug my fingers into my knees. Go away. Go away. I wanted to say it, but I found I couldn't. Something kept me from voicing that allowed. It was probably Father. He has not said much to me the past few days. Not Mother. She is quieter, so that meant it had to be Father. He was the only one who would care enough and that would be deemed close enough to come after me. Yes, it had to be Father. That was why I could not bring up the nerve to tell him to leave.

"Look at me." Hands tugged at mine. Failing to pry them away, those same calloused hands cupped my face. I wanted to flinch back. My body begged me to pull away, but at the same time the aura surrounding me was calm. "Child, I am not going to harm you, okay? I am here and I am not going to let anything happen to you while I am." My head was tilted back and my eyes came to rest on the weary face of my father. My true father, the one of blood and ichor rather than bond. My heart stopped. I wanted Father. He would...

I sniffed and pulled my hand across my eyes. The droplets of my tears smeared across the back of my wrist. "Can I hug you?" My voice wavered. I expected him to deny it, to push me aside how he so often did. He would. It wasn't something I should expect to change just because. Father would hug me, Dad won't. That is not something that will change. I'm a demigod and he's a god and I mean nothing. 

Then I was pulled forward. The scent of the sea surrounded me, enveloping me in familiarity. Dad looped his arms around my back. Warm hands pressed me close to him. A gentle hum left his lips. And the strange thing was, he never tried to pull away. No matter how long I sat there, he said nothing and made no move to remove himself from the embrace. 

In fact, I was the one to leave the hug first. I pulled my hand back across my eyes. The edge of the bed pressed hard against my bandaged wounds. The pain was manageable. I settled next to Dad, not too close but not too far. Perfectly within his reach, not enough distance to make him think I am being rude. A lap desk appeared on my legs, complete with a sheet of paper.  I poked it. The hard surface did not yield. It was real, but-

"Here." Dad handed me a box of crayons.  I pulled one out, black, and touched it to the paper. I looked at Dad. Was this all there was to it? " I don't know why you're looking at me like that." 

"Do you- um, do you want to draw too?" 

"Do you want me to?"

I nodded and shifted the lap desk. Dad took a crayon from the box. Silence surrounded us, broken only by the scratch of the crayon wrappers against the paper we were drawing on. Manatees and cows and dogs and all sorts of other animals covered the page, most of them drawn by Dad. And it was easy to tell which one's he did compared to me. I was never much of an artist, preferring to leave stuff like that to Topo. 

Crayons laid scattered around us, and a few were up against the wall from when I accidentally kicked them. If Dad decided he wanted one, a little bit of water would grab it and bring it back. Sometimes he'd even let the water flow around us and form small shapes. I stared up at the lightly glowing horses, tension fleeing my body.

After a while, Dad moved the lap desk. He picked up the paper, now completely covered in drawings, and folded it twice before slipping it into a pocket. The arm between us lifted and draped over my shoulders.

"Dad?" I mumbled. A yawn slipped past my lips. That only seemed to feed into whatever was going on, seeing as Dad pulled me closer to his side. He brushed a piece of hair away from my face. I hummed and turned. Curling against him, I let my hand close around the loose fabric of his shirt. It was...nice. The thought came unbidden, and I forced it away as quickly as it appeared. If I acknowledged it, then it would go away. I didn't want it to go away.

"If you're tired--" Dad tightened his arm. "--then go to sleep." Every muscle in my body tensed and I curled a little tighter. Sleeping brought nightmares. The nightmares brought threats of flashbacks. All I could do was shake my head and hope he would not press this. I had to hope he would forget that mortals need sleep. Doubtful, considering he has mentioned needing sleep himself. "Don't worry, little one." The name had me looking up at him in surprise. Softly glowing eyes glanced down at me. "I can make sure you sleep well," he said. "One of the perks of being a god."

Swallowing, I nodded. Trust him, just this once. Fool myself into believing he actually cares. Make myself believe he did not have another reason for acting this way. 

A soft lullaby floated through the air in a deep baritone, accompanied by the rumble of Dad's chest. I closed my eyes. "Dad?"

"Hm?"

"What language is that?"

"Go to sleep, little one." He brushed his hand over my hair. The cloth of his shirt pulled from my hands. I whined and grasped for his shirt again. "Hush now." 

"Dad."

"Hush."  A blanket settled around my shoulders and a rough calloused hand took mine, bringing it back towards Dad. My hand closed around fabric. "There you go." Another kiss was pressed to my head. "Sleep well." And the lullaby began anew. 

Hi guys and welcome to "fire threatens to stab me if I don't give characters so fluff' 

I'll be honest I don't know how good this is, but it's fluff and its nice and fluffy. 

Please enjoy, maybe leave a comment or something idk I'm very tired and I'm getting stabbed by fire a lot because books. Which i appreciate because otherwise I'd have 30 new books

And for old times sake: What do you think is going to happen next

See yah