Grover Underwood and the Sorceress' Secret

Part 3

Summary:

"Why have you got a branch?"

"I've got two." Annabeth says dryly. "The Stolls overheard the bit about the Headmaster thinking that Rachel's was a staff so they kindly procured an olive branch for me."

Hazel stifles a laugh. "And the other one?"

***

Packing for a new quest so soon after the last one ended is not Hazel's idea of fun. Most of her things were lost when Zeus slapped them across the sky and having to do this just reminds her of the things that are missing - a present from her brother and Frank, a souvenir from her first quest, a picture of her, Piper and Annabeth taken by the pinhole camera Leo absentmindedly made.

It's nothing that can't be replaced. None of it was worth someone's life but it was hers. It was hers and after so long with no material possessions, trapped in the Fields of Asphodel with only the illusion of clothes to call her own and nothing else, she had been overjoyed to have things. Memories made solid. Tokens of affection from friends.

All of them gone and none of them were worth the price she would have had to pay to save them.

She shakes her head as though the physical movement can dispel the sadness that has seeped in and turns her attention back to packing. Her SPQR t-shirts will have to stay here.

"Hazel?" Frank stands at the doorway of the barracks, one arm by his side and the other resting against the doorway. He's wearing an SPQR t-shirt. The purple is as comforting as painful. When he shifts slightly, her eyes are instead drawn to the subtle flexing of muscles in his left arm and she sends him a small smile, trying to ignore the part of her that worries that Frank has changed and not for the better. It's silly. She knows that.

"It's going to be a long quest." Hazel tells him in lieu of a hello. "I don't know how long yet."

He shifts again, definitely uncomfortable this time. "Hazel..."

"I love you." she admits, blushing slightly at saying that out loud so brazenly. "I..." Why is it so hard to say what she needs to? "I want this to work but I'll be in Scotland for maybe a year and you have Praetor duties."

He doesn't say anything.

"And I know you've had Praetor duties and I've had Centurion duties but it's only been two months and I don't know if-"

"Hazel." A calloused hand gently reaches for hers. "I get it." She lets him hold her hand, raising her head slightly to better look at his face. He looks... he looks like he's been expecting this. She doesn't know how he saw it coming. She didn't. "People are different in war. I think... I think we both need time to find out who we are without it." He looks as nervous as her by the end of it. She squeezes his hand then lets go.

"Help me pack?" It's a plea rather than a question but he acquiesces and helps her stuff some unicorn nectar into her backpack. They don't speak, ignore the way their hands brush against each other as he hands her the medical tape, gauze and bandages.

When at last she is finished, Hazel stands on her tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to his cheek. Frank doesn't return it, just wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her in so that her face is hidden against his chest. Neither of them acknowledge that their faces are wet.

Gwen's face is beaming as she opens the apartment door. "Your voice hasn't changed at all!" The block Gwen lives in - along with all the other blocks in New Rome - has a pad at the door that lets you call any of the door numbers.

Hazel's former centurion gave her her address a month after war had ended, insisted on writing it down "somewhere you won't forget" and told her that she was always welcome. She seems rather pleased to see her and Hazel wishes she could have warned her in advance but they don't use IMs as much as Camp Half-Blood and she wanted to deliver this message in person.