Camp Half Blood

Goddess Of The Hearth

Three weeks, and still wasn't claimed, he spent the first couple of days in the big house, but then Chiron suggested that he stayed in the Hermes cabin because he was the god of travelers.

So he did, they gave him a set of clothes that were 'borrowed' consisting of jeans, shorts, and enough orange t-shirts to last him till he was twenty.

He trained with the Hermes kids, he went to activities with them, sat with them. But he still didn't belong.

He's felt abandonment before, but this was a whole different scale. He looked at other kids, all of them siblings, working together, acting like a family. But then there was him, the awkward cousin that didn't know where he fit in.

It was at the point where he didn't think he was a demigod even more, a part of him always doubted it. A part of him hoped he was, to be part of something bigger than himself, to be a Demigod like Hercules, Achillies, Theseus.

But nope, he wasn't even important enough for his Mother or Father, or whatever the hell his parent was, to even be claimed.

Before curfew he often walked alone on the beach, just looking at the horizon, watching the sun set, and the moon's glow intensify. Then something strange happened one night.

Where he would usually walk, there was a small campfire, a girl that looked around twelve, with fiery red hair, and eyes that resembled the warm embers of the fire right beside her. When she looked at him, she smiled kindly, the kind of smile that told a person they were trustworthy.

"Hello," She greeted,"You prefer to be called Stiles, yes?"

"Uh, yeah. Little girl, who just happens to be on the beach in the dark with a fire going."

She chuckled, not like a kid's laugh, more like an adult's,"I do not blame you for being suspicious. I am Hestia, goddess of the Hearth."

Stiles had pictured many ways of how he might meet his first god. This had not occurred to him.

His legs went slack, and he let himself fall into a cross legged position, he landed with a small thump, and he couldn't look away from Hestia.

"I take it I'm not what you pictured?" She assumed, turning back to the fire, poking the flames with a stick so that they could get more oxygen.

"I mean, yeah. Definitely not what I pictured at all."

"And what did you expect? I'm always curious to hear that."

"Well, I did read a bit of mythology when I was ten, and it said that since you were eaten by Kronos first..." He paused, seeing the goddess wince,"Uh, sorry."

"It's okay," She replied,"You can continue."

"Since you were, you know, first. You spent so much time in the stomach that you were partially digested, so with your godly essence you looked like a flame."

"That is partially true," She replied,"My siblings and I...we do not like to speak about our imprisonment. It reminds them that they're not all powerful as they assume to be. The only true all powerful being would be Chaos, he created the Earth, the sky, the sea, the infernal pit."

Stiles nodded,"So does that mean Chaos is actually God?"

Hestia smiled mischievously,"That is the one question no one knows."

With a wave of her hand, a plate appeared in Stiles's lap, filled with his favorite foods. Homemade fried chicken drowned in gravy, corn also drowned in gravy, and potatoes with a pool of gravy on top.

"Eat, I know you are hungry despite having just had dinner," She told him, and taking a fork, he flicked a single piece of corn into the fire.

"Thanks," Stiles said, taking a bite out of the chicken, and he froze, not having tasted something like that in a very long time, almost seven years to be exact,"This tastes like my Mom's recipe."