Longing | Percy Jackson

of meetings and manipulation

Larry Martin smiled at the approaching demigod.

The son of Neptune was putting up a show of his power and he knew it, parting the Little Tiber so easily with not so much as lifting a finger.

Internally, the son of Mars seethed.

Someone had defied him. The Greeks were not supposed to know. The only alive uniter of the two camps was especially not supposed to know. At least, not yet.

The Romans respected power. They even accepted a Greek for power. Now, if the presence of the son of Neptune creates disruption in his plans, the Romans would once again bow to his power.

Everything will be consequential.

He thought he figured thought that the demigod was humble and also very oblivious to common details.

He had been at the feast the day the Greek warship arrived, the Argo II. Larry was the witness of Percy Jackson allowing his own trustee to badmouth him, calling him stupid. He witnessed the abuse of his relationship and the pressure he took. And yet, and yet, the demigod did nothing.

He was not humble. Percy Jackson was stupid.

Percy Jackson was not able to see the bad side of the world and he hated him for it.

But he had not discovered that Percy Jackson was also proud. The demigod stood in front of him, meeting his stare and not backing away.

Then, he took notice of what he wore. A purple shirt.

He was here as one of them. The son of Neptune had never been one of them and today he stood before him looking and behaving like the only ideal Roman.

He didn't know if it was possible to burn with hate, but he was ready to burn those who stood in his way with that same fire.

Why was Percy Jackson even here?

Larry was not the imperator yet. He could not simply order for the green-eyed demigod to be thrown of his city. This person who stood before him was also an ex-praetor and in his short time of service, he had managed to leave a lasting impression on the Senate.

The son of Neptune had an unorthodox method of fighting, both with his words and behavior, and his weapon.

Larry Martin did not like feeling threatened.

(And that was the only respect he had for Percy Jackson. Like all, he respected his power. Everything else about him, he hated it with every fiber of his body.)

"Percy Jackson." He greeted with a delightful voice.

Percy's jaw clenched. "Perseus." He corrected in a clipped tone.

Larry pursed his lips and strained a little smile, "Of course, I apologize, Perseus."

He could not disrespect the demigod or otherwise he would have already shouted out his opinion, spat the insults building in his mind. He refrained. (Disrespecting the hero of Olympus would be a crime against Olympus and an insult to Jupiter. Forget the rage of Neptune, Larry Martin would be dead much before.)

The son of Mars fought to urge to scowl. Percy Jackson was maybe an inch shorter than him, but only his presence was enough to repress his heart.

Larry stared down at him.

Sea green eyes flashed with gold and fear gripped him.

They always called this demigod 'the divine one', it would be no surprise to find out he had ascended.

The arrival of a god here would mean that Olympus had found out about his schemes. They would put an end to him. Maybe his own father would help do so.

He knew he was playing a dangerous game. If he lost his race with time, he would also lose his life string.

He needed to hurry through his plans. He needed to be Imperator.

-

Trevor saw the brute demigod flash a smile and continue, "You've arrived at quiet a time, hero of Olympus. I will myself give you a tour. Many new things to see."

He had no idea how he could talk without stuttering in front of the hero, but again, he guessed, this was how he was attaining the power of rule. Larry Martin certainly had the features of a king.

(This New Rome was never satisfied with the rule of a king. No. They wanted glory. They lived for glory! They craved it. No king could give them enough of it. New Rome wanted the blessing of the gods reincarnated.)

Their future ruler dismissed the audience that had gathered and gestured to him to return to his post. Without waiting for his formal reply --Larry Martin had made set of rules even for such things as a response to one of his dismissal-- he turned, motioning the son of Neptune to walk along.

Trevor sighed as he watched them walk away, feeling a pressure that was building lessen.

He knew where the tour would end, the grand palace that was being built at the place visibly higher ground level as the rest of their housing structures.

Romans mastered the art of building beautiful pieces of art. It took barely half an hour for them to construct a fort for the war games and they were ready to go.

To think, the palace had been in construction for almost two months and only now was coming to a stage where only the detailed carvings and painting was left to be done...

The result of two months of Roman craftsmanship would without a doubt be magnificent.

The hero of Olympus had chosen quiet a time to visit, now, he agreed. A tour today and tomorrow the demigod would wake up to see the palace shine with the rising sun at its complete beauty.

Trevor started to walk back and at some point, water splashed. Only then, he noticed that the river had been parted to give him a way back.

He smiled.

He wished he had recognized Perseus first. He was not like his stories portrayed him, but kinder and so effortless.

Trevor did not feel wrong about his mistake of taking the son of Neptune for a god.