You'll Learn to Love Me (Leo Valdez x OC)

Chapter 59: Diocletian's Palace

Jason drew his gladius alongside the other two with their weapons. They made their way under the low archways, their steps echoing on the stone floor. Barred windows lined the top of one wall, facing the street level, but that just made the cellar feel more claustrophobic, which Laylana did not enjoy. She was still wary of small spaces after almost being suffocated in the dirt.

 The shafts of sunlight looked like slanted prison bars, swirling with ancient dust. Jason passed a support beam, looked to his left and jumped, stumbling into Laylana. She let out a yelp as he slammed into her,  Staring right at them was a marble bust of Diocletian, his limestone face glowering with disapproval. Jason steadied his breathing before he slipped the note to Reyna between the bust and its pedestal and stepped back.

"That's just creepy." Laylana mumbled as she stepped back from Jason's side, favoring standing by Nico for the time being. 

"Hello!"

Laylana jumped, letting out a small scream in surprise. Before she could blink, Jason sliced off the emperor's head. The bust toppled and shattered against the floor.

"That wasn't very nice," said the voice behind them.

They all turned. The winged man from the ice-cream stand was leaning against a nearby column, casually tossing a small bronze hoop in the air. At his feet sat a wicker picnic basket full of fruit.

"I mean," the man said, "what did Diocletian ever do to you?"

The air swirled around their feet. The shards of marble gathered into a miniature tornado, spiraled back to the pedestal and reassembled into a complete bust, the note still tucked underneath.

"Uh –" Jason lowered his sword. "It was an accident. You startled me."

The winged dude chuckled. "Jason Grace, the West Wind has been called many things... warm, gentle, life-giving and devilishly handsome. But I have never been called startling. I leave that crass behaviour to my gusty brethren in the north."

Nico inched backwards into Laylana. "The West Wind? You mean you're –"

"Favonius," Jason realized. "God of the West Wind."

Favonius smiled and bowed, obviously pleased to be recognized. "You can call me by my Roman name, certainly, or Zephyros, if you're Greek. I'm not hung up about it."

Nico looked at him a bit confused. "Why aren't your Greek and Roman sides in conflict, like the other gods?"

"Oh, I have the occasional headache." Favonius shrugged. "Some mornings I'll wake up in a Greek chiton when I'm sure I went to sleep in my SPQR pajamas. But mostly the war doesn't bother me. I'm a minor god, you know – never really been much in the limelight. The to-and-fro battles among you demigods don't affect me as greatly."

"So..." Jason shuffled nervously. "What are you doing here?"

"Several things!" Favonius said. "Hanging out with my basket of fruit. I always carry a basket of fruit. Would you like a pear?"

"I'm good. Thanks." Laylana grimaced.

"Let's see... earlier I was eating ice cream. Right now I'm tossing this quoit ring." Favonius spun the bronze hoop on his index finger.

Laylana knew what quoit was, but she had no idea why this guy had a ring from the game. "I mean why did you appear to us? Why did you lead us to this cellar?"

"Oh!" Favonius nodded. "The sarcophagus of Diocletian. Yes. This was its final resting place. The Christians moved it out of the mausoleum. Then some barbarians destroyed the coffin. I just wanted to show you that what you're looking for isn't here. My master has taken it." 

"Your master?" Laylana echoed, suddenly having a flashback to a floating palace above Pike's Peak in Colorado, where she'd visited (and barely survived) the studio of a crazy weatherman who claimed he was the god of all the winds. "Please tell me your master isn't Aeolus."

"That airhead?" Favonius snorted. "No, of course not."

"He means Eros." Nico's voice turned edgy. "Cupid, in Latin."

Ah. That's why Laylana had the instinct that she would be good here. Eros was her father's brother, her uncle, according to some older myths, which were the ones she found made more sense. Later myths had him recognized as a son of Aphrodite, but it made more sense that he was one of the original primordial gods, as love has been around since the beginning of time. She had never met him of course, but according to her family tree he was supposedly the most tame god, compared to ones like death, demise, and suffering. 

Favonius smiled. "Very good, Nico di Angelo. I'm glad to see you again, by the way. It's been along time."

Nico knitted his eyebrows. "I've never met you."

"You've never seen me," the god corrected. "But I've been watching you. When you came here as a small boy, and several times since. I knew eventually you would return to look upon my master's face."

Nico turned even paler than usual. His eyes darted around the cavernous room as if he was starting to feel trapped.

"Nico?" Laylana tried. "What's he talking about?"

"I don't know. Nothing." Nico averted his eyes from Laylana's.

"Nothing?" Favonius cried. "The one you care for most... plunged into Tartarus, and still you will not allow the truth?"

The one you care for most. Laylana's eyes widened. Piper, Jason and her had a conversation a while ago, where Piper theorized that Nico had a crush on Annabeth. Laylana could see it to be honest. But clearly from that statement, if it was true, his feelings were more than just a simple crush.