𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 | percy jackson

hephaestus

Ciarda spent a moment staring at Hephaestus, her eyes squinted and head cocked. She then, in her own time, turned back to the shimmering cogs. "I said, I'm not leaving here without my friend." Although not as clever as Annabeth, she would find a way to break Percy from the chair's hold. 

"And if you are not going to help me, which I assume you're not because Gods don't help anyone but themselves," Ciarda glanced at the shield in spite, "Could you please leave me alone so I can focus?"

"In spite of what my brother might have told you, I am not someone who'll be pushed around," Hephaestus spoke clearly and loudly. He was getting angry. But he had some catching up to do, Ciarda was already furious off her scale. "My father is a lying piece of shit, who is selfish, self-absorbed and a cheat. I am none of those things, and I never will be. Now please, leave." 

Hephaestus, albeit unspoken of his thoughts, was pleasantly surprised. There had been much low-lying gossip about the prodigy child of Ares and Aphrodite. A large prophecy awaited her; one not even Chiron knew. It was discussed between Zeus, Ares and Aphrodite, and left that way. The secret could not be bribed out of any of them, for whatever price. 

Hephaestus was intrigued. Ciarda had been watched by all the Gods, along with her companions. She was special, ruthless, loyal. Mean and stubborn, with unwavering courage. She would bite back at a God and take whatever they threw at her. In her eyes, they were not superior to her, so if they wanted something, they would have to be human and ask her for it. 

"I know your mother begged Zeus to see you recently," Ciarda's hands halted on the gold. They shook, courtesy of her father and his magic, but they stilled enough to show Hephaestus she was listening. Her mother wanted to see her? 

"If you had been told earlier, I wonder if we would be in a different situation right now. I've seen that Aphrodite's kids can be pushovers, but you weren't raised that way. Her genes have always been in you though, the way people listen to you. You have natural charm. Perhaps, you have inherited abilities? If you know where to look, you will know if they're there." 

"Why don't you tell me what you want? You hate me. I'm their love affair mistake. Shoot me down with a bolt of lightning or get it over and done with. I don't want to see my mother, she couldn't even be bothered to claim me." 

"Unfortunately, lightning is not my speciality. But I do know my wife has a very caring soul. She let Ares claim you because she wanted you to be bred strong and unforgiving. If you were claimed by both Ares and Aphrodite, you never would have been able to leave Camp Half-Blood with the amount of monsters you would attract. We couldn't hold off on the secret getting out, some Gods are gossipers, as you have seen with Medusa. But you seemed to handle her quite well. And I don't hate you." 

Ciarda stood to her full height and craned her neck to look him in the face. For a thirteen-year-old girl, she was quite an intimidating figure. "To meet her one day, you have to walk out of here with that shield. You'd be a hero on your way to the greatest glory, and you would go to Olympus. You would see her, talk to her even. You could speak to your own mother - a woman who loves you very dearly." 

Hephaestus talked too much for her liking. "Things could go to how it should be." 

"It isn't how it should be," Ciarda fought back, surprising Hephaestus once more. She stretched to her full height. Deadly eyes scrutinised him. So Ares really wasn't joking about his feisty youngest. Hephaestus tilted his head when Ciarda began her monologue. "It isn't. Eat or be eaten. Power and glory and nothing else matters. Ares is that way. Zeus is that way. My mother is that way." 

Hephaestus understood it now. It had taken mere minutes, but he could feel it shake his bones: why she was different from the rest. No matter how much the girl could be tested and poked and prodded, she refused to fear. She stood up to her own horrors, she grew up learning to accept the spiders and snakes and heights. The youngest daughter of Ares did not fear anything - and so, she did not fear the Gods. 

He understood now. 

"He isn't that way," Ciarda looked to Percy, drenched in gold. He was the only one as impertinent, fearless and aggregated by the Gods as she was. Nobody had ever matched her in that way. "He is better than that. Maybe I bent to that way once, by offering my food to get my father's attention, but I am not that girl anymore." 

"I won't be like all of you." 

Hephaestus observed her, his eyes solemn under mooned glasses. He understood what it felt like to be powerless to another God. To be hurt by them, and controlled by them, even if he was a God himself. 

Ciarda was brave enough to stand there, alone, and tell him their entire system was wrong. He could see the hurt that swam in her spirit, no matter how many walls she put up to hide it. The Gods could see through it all, and notice how bad she was hurting inside. Their system had done that to her, and maybe it made her stronger on the outside, but she was crumbling internally. She would be an emotionless, ruthless warrior one day. 

Unless it all changed, because of the boy in the chair. Hephaestus had eyed them in their boat, holding hands, talking. She was opening up and cared about him. No matter how much she denied it, he brought her emotions through to the forefront. 

And that would make her an even greater warrior.

Hephaetus played his flute in a perfect chord, before the gears ground. This whirred and moved, and Ciarda ran to the front. She left the shield forgotten and unworthy on the floor. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she could hear her pulse in her ears. 

The gold began unwinding from Percy, his face becoming human again. His hair was still wet, and his eyes were still glossy. A huge pant of air came from his mouth and Ciarda broke down. She cried, laughing happily whilst the sobs wracked her frame. Her emotions had beaten her, and yet she didn't care. She hadn't failed. He was alive. 

Percy got up out of the chair, Ciarda helping him limp onto the marbled platform. She supported his body weight whilst he looked up at Hephaestus. "Some of us don't like being that way either," He told them both, Ciarda watching him. She nodded, attempting to pull herself together.

"You lived up to all my expectations, and then exceeded them, Miss La Rue. You're a good kid. I'll put in a good word with your Mom and Zeus for you." He then left, leaving the ladder for them to escape. 

Silence coated the room, apart from the splashing of crashing waves against the podium. Ciarda closed her eyes, taking a moment for herself to pull it together. She was too emotional, and she needed to build back her walls. Make her stronger again - but deep down, there wasn't an inkling of her mind that felt weak anyway.

"You are something else, Ciarda" Percy breathed, the pair of them staring at each other. Deep breaths filled the room. They stared at each other, both still dripping water. Nothing was said. 

Then suddenly, the pair broke into heaps of hysterical laughter.