Climb (Percy Jackson x Reader)

three

✺ THE ESSENCE OF MAGIC ✺

"You have to admit, it's clever."

Hades nearly jumps in surprise as he swivels towards Zeus, his flailing arm very narrowly avoiding Hestia's face. The god of the skies had spoken begrudgingly, rolling his master bolt on his chair's armrest back and forth with his finger. Poseidon looks at Zeus with incredulity, almost betrayed, as Demeter lifts her eyes with interest.

"Allies?" Clarisse asks, extending her hand towards (Y/N).

The daughter of Persephone smiles, taking it. "Allies."

Zeus sighs, glancing between his siblings. "What? She's playing the game psychologically—breaking them down from the inside. Can I not acknowledge the intelligence that an individual has?"

"No," Poseidon responds instantly. Hades flicks a matchbox-sized fireball in his direction.

Hestia groans. "I thought we'd moved past this," she says, her hair mussed from the amount of times she'd pulled at it in annoyance.

Hades grins at his sister. "You know us," he says, walking over to drape his arm around her shoulder. He shakes her playfully before ruffling her hair further. "And you were asking for far more than is possible."

Hestia lightly shoves the god away from her. "I'll hold out hope, thank you very much."

The room falls into a hesitant silence at the words, reminded of the prophecy. Hades glances around for his wife, who sits in the corner of the room with Hecate.

The sorceress hovers cross-legged in the air while she flips through one of her spellbooks, the worn leather of its giant spine cracking slightly from eternal use. Hecate's lips move silently as she reads, her brow cinched as she quickly turns pages with a practiced, careful touch. At her side (and on floor-level), Persephone's skirts flare over her pouf as she meditates, the metallic accents on her green dress twinkling with the occasional glimmers of Hecate's magic. The queen's face is relaxed, yet her eyes move quickly behind closed lids, her lips just slightly pursed as her folded hands twitch every so often.

Hades easily notices her signs of stress, but his foot halts in its motion as he tries to step towards her. His entire leg seems to lock up, caught in midair by some invisible force. He looks over to Hecate in question, who merely shakes her head.

The power releases, and Hades casts one more concerned look to his queen before turning again to face the vision.

Demeter glances at him as he sits, and she leans over to whisper. "Look at the way they're fuming." She inconspicuously jerks her head in Zeus and Poseidon's direction, and Hades glances to them with a raised eyebrow.

Zeus leans back in his seat, his master bolt rolling between his hands, while he stares at the magical image with slightly narrowed eyes. His eyebrow twitches occasionally, his knee bobbing repeatedly—with anticipation or restraint, Hades cannot fully tell.

Poseidon, however, clutches his armrests with such force that his knuckles lose most of their color. His jaw, clenched for what has to be the eighth consecutive hour, ticks rhythmically as his eyes swirl a clouded, stormy blue. Had the teenagers not been outside of Poseidon's domain, Hades would by no means trust his brother to keep his composure.

The minutes pass, the air tense and sparked with irritation. Hecate glances at the gods from her corner, her eyes warily scanning the room.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N) isn't perfect after all," Percy says, laughing. He leans against the dock rail, moonlight washing over his figure as waves lap gently against the ship. "I must admit, I'm disappointed."