𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 | percy jackson

he won the war for her

"Single combat," Percy decided, his voice carrying through the coastal air. "What?" The War God scoffed, laughing sweetly. "What?" Ciarda stated in sync with Annabeth and Grover, also. "One on one, but I set the terms. If I draw first blood, I keep the bolt and you surrender the helm." 

Ciarda grabbed Annabeth's arm in alarm. "Are you not gonna stop him?" She urged in disbelief. "That's usually your job," Annabeth defended herself. Ares' sharp mocking laughter cut between the females' disagreement. 

"Do you accept?" Percy kept his sword pointed at Ciarda's father's heart. Ares couldn't stop laughing at the eager, dumb demigod. 

"No, Blondie, we don't," Ciarda's voice shot through, tense and biting. "He does know Ares will chew him up and spit him back out?" Ciarda glanced at Grover who swallowed nervously. Undeterred, Percy didn't turn around to listen to Ciarda. He was ready and knew it.

"I mean, it's your funeral, kid," Ares grinned, flashing canine teeth which all the Ares kids had inherited. Almost imperceptibly, his flaming gaze flickered to Ciarda. There was a split second of vulnerability, of a fleeting apology, in his eyes. But remembering his role in all of it, he turned back to Percy. 

"Although, just to be clear, no funeral. Any trace of you leaves a trace of my plan, and we can't have that." 

"It wasn't your plan though, was it?" Ciarda started. There was a minuscule hint of hope in her voice, praying her father wasn't planning the genocide of an entire race. Humans would go extinct during a War of Olympus.

 If Kronos returned, there was an even chance the Gods would crumble. 

"It was Kronos," Percy finished her sentence. Ares' eyes darkened with a ferocity that vibrated in the air. The ghostly echoes of battle rang in Ciarda's ears, an instinctive call to arms reverberating within her. "It's starting," She mumbled to herself, hoping that the duel did not end badly. "It was Kronos' idea to frame Poseidon's kid, and steal Hades' helm and Zeus' bolt to start a war," Percy fueled Ares' itch to fight. 

"What?" Annabeth's face contorted into honest shock. When Ciarda only nodded, eyes fixed on her father with a rare and terrible intensity, Annabeth felt her hands shake with fear. Kronos was a power only spoken about in bedtime stories. It wasn't their future - it couldn't be. 

"Is that where he got to you, too? Through your dreams?" Percy pushed forward step by step, his sword at the ready. "Gods don't dream, little man," Ares sneered with a venomous growl, "And no one tells the god of war how to start a fight!" The force of his anger shuddered the ground.

It was genetic instinct, Ciarda's blood responding to the vicinity of her father. She felt the primal surge of a cool sword at her spine, flaring against its sharpener. She could hear the cries of men running into battle. The closeness to the War God's raw power made her fingers tingle.

Percy's face turned into a snarl of defiance. He planted his feet, grinding them into the sand. "And after you die, say hi to your mommy for me," Ares was beyond rage. He had been offended by mere mortals. Pathetic humans he could destroy in an instant. 

Percy's face hardened. He held his sword out in front of him, his grip tightening. The Son of Poseidon was ready.

Ciarda observed from the sidelines, her heart in her throat as Ares strode angrily toward Percy.  His sword arced down, blazing, aiming to cleave Percy in two. Percy sidestepped, narrowly missing the blow. Ciarda held her hand to her mouth, the feeling of nausea returning. For the first time, she understood what it was to fear—not death itself, but loss. 

Ares spun around rapidly and swung his sword out in a wide arch. Percy barely escaped the blade, jumping backwards. "Come on, Percy!" Grover's voice rang out desperately. Swords clashed against each other as Percy blocked Ares' consistent attacks. One would soon hit, and it would all be over. Everything they had done together, every monster they had outcompeted would be for nothing.