Can you imagine water at it's loudest?
The President was shocked: when they'd found out that there was a secret community of Gods and myths living within their borders, his advisors had called for war. Told of highly trained soldiers and omnipotent deities, the country's defence had been kicked into high gear (along with the rest of the world) and they'd been scared. Defensive.
Then they'd found out they were teenages. Every age from five to nineteen (if they were lucky and skilled enough to survive that long) and the fellings changed; fear becoming horror; defence becomming disbelief.
Still not quite believing it, the President's last dilusions had shattered and fell away around his feet as a stormy-eyed, blond-haired girl with scars dancing across her face, shadows of past pain, and a centaur in a suit with wise, solemn eyes stood before him. The pain in their faces was heart-breaking.
"Good afternoon, it's a pleasure to meet you." In that moment the leader of the free world chose to accept them, he acknowledged their threat and made the choice to protect them. Imagining his own children with the look he saw in his military commanders, he vowed there and then. They would be protected.
Feeling the callouses in the eighteen year old's hands when they shook (barely old enough to enlist), he offered them a seat (he'd gone to pull it out for her but she's gotten there first, wary and independant).
As they sat down, they got talking. The two representatives ignored the offered refreshments as they spoke. Answering and dodging questions like his most hardened politicians, answering strategic, political, military, defensive, historical questions. Anything and everything that could be brought up, was. Then they asked the personal.
On live TV, broadcast nationwide, they asked for a story.
And they were given one.
The teenager's face remained impassive, only the ghost of emotions broke the mask, flitting across her face as she told the story of Percy Jackson.
Retelling how her boyfriend teased and stumbled, annoyed Gods, made friends, trained, fought, trained, loved, cried, laughed, fought and trained.
She told them about stolen lighting, seas full of monsters, curses from Titans, battles in labyrinths, wars on Olympus. She told them about lost heroes, son's of Roman Gods, coins from owls, houses of darkness and unfortunate nosebleeds. She told them about loyalty and courage and bravery and war, of mischief and silliness and pranks and laughter.
She described her love like an artist painting a picture, like a leader giving a speech, every perfection and flaw was shown and the audience couldn't have been more captivated.
People all across the couontry-the world-silently pleged their support for the heroes who grew up too soon and the leader who protected his friends.
"He sounds amazing." It took a minute for the President to regain his composure, he had more respect for this teenager he was being told about than any leader he'd ever met.
"Yes." The daughter of Athena was curt, wary, as if annoyed that she'd already said too much and was scared of betrayal, prepared for it.
Now he was nervous, almost scared of his next request.
"He sounds like a valuable person to meet, a role model for our country, may we meet him? He deserves all the honours we can give him." He assumed the son of Poseidon hadn't come because he was either busy or they weren't risking their leader on a possible political breakdown, but from the stories, the seagreen-eyed soldier didn't seem like the type to let his people take the risk for him, least of all his girlfriend. Hence the question.
"I would be truly honoured, and he would be thrilled but....I...I've told you how gruesome the battles were and I'm sure you can imagine at least the basics...well...."
The president felt a cold stone settle in his gut, claws pulling at his insides as his face paled.
"No..."
"I'd really love to introduce you, but....I.....the last battle......
Percy died." Such simple words that caused the entire country to fall silent. Caused the entire nation to weep.
When asked to imagine water at it's loudest, you'd probably say a waterfall, all crashing tides and white spray; but in that moment-that single drop of salt water that rolled down her cheek and hit the floor- was the loudest sound in the world.
