Livia marched forward, eyes considering as she regarded the demigods climbing their way into her city. A small part of her had hoped that Terminus would be able to keep them away and she wouldn't have to deal with them. But unfortunately, one of them was apparently a diplomat.
(A larger part of her was relieved. Jason. He was finally home.)
In front of her, the demigods made way for a blonde girl with eyes as grey as clouds in turbulence. Livia recognized her instantly.
Annabeth.
She and Reyna sized each other up, but Livia's attention was drawn to the person standing at her side. Livia's vision tunneled.
Jason smiled at her.
It took all her training to force herself to not move. Over his jeans and that hideous orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, he'd donned a toga and a purple cloak—symbols of his old rank as praetor. With his wind-ruffled blond hair and his icy blue eyes, he looked ruggedly handsome and in control—just like a son of Jupiter should.
But there was something—
("He will find you," Mercury told her. "But I do not think that you will like what you see.")
The god was right.
Jason had the look of a Roman, but there was this energy to him that was no longer truly roman. Her Jason was a tightly coiled bundle of nerves that was always in control. He never gave too much of himself nor too little. He had goals in his mind and worked hard to achieve them. Her Jason was born from tempered winds of a storm. He was the air that they breathed and the lightning that his Father wield. The calamity of an electrical storm.
Mortal as he may be; to push him well beyond his limits was to ask for the rage of nature. He was born from the celestial dust of the creatures within his fathers' respective kingdoms.
This was not her Jason.
The Romans murmured Jason's name, staring at him in awe.
The praetor, Reyna, straightened; finally finished with her dick measuring contest.. With apparent reluctance that she shared with Livia, she turned toward Jason.
Livia rolled her shoulders back, stepping forward. "Jason Grace, my former colleague..." She spoke the word colleague like it was a dangerous thing. "I welcome you home. And these, your friends—"
Livia tensed as Percy and Annabeth rushed towards each other. Her hand twitched, water forming a sword in her hand that she quickly dispersed before Terminus could feel offense. Percy and Annabeth grasped each other in their arms tightly, hugging each other as if they were afraid the other would disappear if they let go.
Livia felt a flash of irritation. They were not the only ones to lose someone for half a year. They could at least have some decorum. Her opinion about them was plummeting even further though they were not high to begin with.
Percy pulled away and studied her face. "Gods, I never thought—"
Annabeth grabbed his wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. He slammed into the stone pavement. Romans cried out. Pipes began to rattle ominous in the distance. Some surged forward, but Reyna shouted, "Hold! Stand down!"
Annabeth put her knee on Percy's chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn't care what the Romans thought. A white-hot lump of anger expanded in her chest—a tumor of worry and bitterness that she'd been carrying around since last autumn.
"If you ever leave me... us again," she said, her eyes stinging, "I swear to all the gods— And Apollo was—"
Percy laughed. "Consider me warned," he said. "I missed you both, too."
