the archer - percy jackson x reader

xv.

chapter fifteen
but the monsters turned out to be just trees

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"Then I suppose it's too late to turn back, isn't it...?"

🝮

The fields of Asphodel were unlike anything Y/n had ever seen. It was like a football stadium's crowd (times a million) had been deposited in a field (also a million times bigger). But this field didn't have green grass, or bouncing beachballs surfing the crowd, or large Jumbotrons displaying the excitement and anticipation on everyone's face. This field radiated monotone and misery. The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees— Grover said they were poplars—grew in clumps here and there.

The atmosphere which surrounded them made Y/n want to curl into a ball, hold on to her happiest memory, and relive it forever without ever letting go. Maybe that's what all these ghosts wished for. To be able to even remember what happiness felt like. Y/n shuddered at the thought of being in their place.

Annabeth's hand felt the tremor and looked to her right to examine her friend's face. Distress was slightly visible with her eyebrows and shoulders tensed and her fingers pricking into themselves.

"You okay?" She whispered faintly, keeping the conversation just between the two of them.

"Fine." Y/n responded briefly, marching forward and swallowing her worries.

Y/n, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. They quickly came to the conclusion that the dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter— like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.

Each time a dead person did this, Y/n tensed more. Her restlessness and unease grew by the second. She longed for a warm bath and a cup of tea, and made a silent promise to herself to complete that wish once they were back at Camp Half-Blood. That is, if they survived long enough to make it back. It occurred to her how ironic the situation was. For the past two years all she had ever wanted was to join a quest— this quest. But now that she was fulfilling it, she wished for anything but.

She stared at all the lost, wandering souls, a sorrowful feeling settling in her stomach. Would she turn into one of them once death reached her? A mourning being, searching endlessly for closure, only to never find it? She became terrified. And as she continued to observe them she realized the dead aren't scary, they're just sad. Her heart felt heavy from their suffering.

Percy's eyes met hers and she couldn't be more grateful for it as they exchanged quick glances—glances which shared the words none of them had the strength to say out loud. They needed further reassuring they were alive and full of color and emotions. His sea green eyes brought images of the roaring waves on a beautiful, sunny beach day. Her pounding heart grew softer as she reminisced on the beauty life could bring. They both took a moment to appreciate their lives, no matter how hard they had been. They were still alive. And that was all that mattered in the moment.

But despite their thundering hearts and minds, they crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:

JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION

Welcome, Newly Deceased!