Fated To Fall: PJO

Damian Wayne or Jason Todd

The King of the Gods stared at the two children with an unimpressed look but Theo wasn't paying attention. Hades must have designed his palace after Olympus.

Massive columns rose into a domed ceiling which was covered in moving constellations. Theo's eyes found the Corona Borealis and a small smile grew on his face.

Further ahead, twelve thrones sat in an inverted U-shape. Just like at camp. A large fire was crackling in the central hearth pit. All of the thrones in the room were empty except for two. The head throne and the one immediately to its left.

It didn't take a genius to figure out who was who.

They were in giant form, just as Hades had been, but it felt harder for Theo to look at them.

Zeus, the Lord of the Skies, wore a dark blue pinstripe suit. He sat on a throne of platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled black and gray. His face was proud and grim and his eyes were a rainy gray.

The god sitting next to him was his brother. Of that, there was no doubt. They were dressed very differently. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it.

His skin was deeply tanned, his hands
scarred like an old-time fisherman’s. His hair was black, like ink. His face
had that same brooding look that would have gotten him branded a rebel. But
his eyes, sea-green like Percy's, were surrounded by sun-crinkles that told him
he smiled a lot, too.

His throne was a deep-sea fisherman’s chair. It was the simple swiveling kind, with a black leather seat and a built-in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.

The gods weren’t moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air, as if they’d just finished an argument.

Percy moved forward, kneeling at Poseidon's throne, "Father," he said.

To his left Zeus scoffed. "Should you not address the master of this house first, boy?"

Okay. Theo didn't like him.

Poseidon merely raised his hands in a placating manner. "Peace, brother. The boy defers to his father. It is only right."

“You still claim him then?” Zeus asked, menacingly. “You claim this child whom you sired against our sacred oath?”

“I have admitted my wrongdoing,” Poseidon said. “Now I would hear him speak.”

Wrongdoing.

Was that all Poseidon thought of his son? If Sally Jackson's son. Percy was many things: reckless, idiotic, fiercely loyal to a fault, but he wasn't a wrongdoing.

Theo felt his jaw clench at the words and was suddenly grateful that his mother seemed like he cared, whether or not she actually did was still to be determined.

“I have spared him once already,” Zeus grumbled. “Daring to fly through my domain…pah! I should have blasted him out of the sky for his impudence.”

“And risk destroying your own master bolt?” Poseidon asked calmly. “Let us hear him out, brother.”

Zeus grumbled some more. “I shall listen,” he decided. “Then I shall make up my mind whether or not to cast this boy down from Olympus.”

“Perseus,” Poseidon said. “Look at me.”

Theo watched Percy look up and switched his gaze to Zeus. He didn't know why the master bolt was stolen or who did it, but he was feeling a lot less sympathetic to the god who had his source of power stolen.