To Swear On Styx

Chapter Two: Kronos Gloats to My Dad

Playlist Part Two:

Danse Macabre in G Minor, OP. 40 - Camille Saint-Saëns

Run - OneRepublic

~*~

When Percy woke, everything was too bright. His arms were too bright, his legs, his chest, the palms of his hands. Everything was shining and flaming and hot. Not knowing what was happening, what was wrong, Percy let out a panicked cry, trying to take a step backwards, or forwards, or something- anything- when a set of strong hands gripped his shoulders.

"Perseus," a vaguely familiar voice yelled out. "Calm down."

Percy stilled, his eyes wide and frightened, flashing back and forth and trying to find the person holding him. "I can't," he sobbed out finally. "I- I don't- I-"

"Deep breaths. Imagine your body. Imagine sinking back into it, calmly, gently, Perseus."

The voice seemed to know what it was talking about, so Percy took in a deep, albeit shaky breath, letting his eyes flicker shut as he imagined the light slowly going out, and the molten heat making up his body cooling back into skin.

And then, he was opening his eyes, only to find himself face-to-face with Kronos, Krios, and Perses. They all had varying wary expressions lining their faces, Kronos' gold eyes lidded in consideration.

Hesitantly, Percy cast his gaze past the Titans, eyeing the throne room. Everything was covered in a thick layer of soot, aside from a few sets of footprints scattered about the floor before him.

Kronos pulled away, crossing his arms over his chest. After a tense moment, he let out a barking laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly. "I don't know why I even bothered to promise not to destroy the Olympians' thrones when your divine form very nearly did it itself."

Percy blanched. "I- What?"

Rolling his eyes like what he had said was obvious, Kronos reached forward, tugging Percy out of the throne and to his feet. All of the blood in Percy's body rushed to his head, and he grimaced, pressing a hand to his forehead and stumbling, falling against the Titan King.

Too nauseous to care, Percy took in a deep, shaky breath, his hands clenching into fists as he felt Kronos reach forward, one of the older's hands settling onto Percy's shoulder and the other tracing circles on the small of his back.

"Looks like your little prize is nothing more than a clingy child, Lord," Perses remarked from somewhere behind him.

"Quiet," Kronos replied shortly. "He's just had his blood melted. I dare to say you too would be clinging to me for balance if you had just been through the same."

Percy let out a grunt of pain, lurching away from Kronos and catching himself on the arm of the throne. His knees shook, before giving out, and he fell back into the seat again, squeezing his eyes shut against the pounding headache shuddering through his skull.

Sighing, Kronos reached forward, gathering Percy up into his arms and beginning to make his way down the stairs. Krios and Perses trailed behind them, a scowl etched onto the later's face, his fingers tapping against the hilt of his sheathed sword like he wanted to cut something- or someone- in two.

There was a squirming, unsettled, shiver of revulsion curled around at the base of Percy's stomach, and it grew the longer Kronos held him. Percy wanted nothing more than to shove the other away, strike him through the skull with Riptide, and run for it. But- that just wasn't viable. Percy could hardly stand, much less kill Kronos, and he was pretty sure the oath he had sworn prevented him from doing that anyway. Regardless, Percy's skin was crawling under Kronos' touch, burning uncomfortably where the older's fingers bit into him.