Still in the tower, early the next morning
Dragon sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee and sketching, her jacket slung across the back of the chair and hair falling into her face. Assorted grades and colours of pencils with identifying letters and numbers stamped onto the side were scattered around her, along with several piles of pencil sharpening and two different kinds of eraser.
Percy wandered in, one arm slung over Annabeth’s shoulders. Dragon didn’t look up, merely stating “There’s coffee in the pot.”
Percy grabbed a pair of cups and poured coffee, whilst Annabeth walked over to see what Dragon was drawing. It was a sketch of a dark haired girl with bold, blue eyes and a silver circlet. Dragon glanced at Annabeth.
“I’ve been seeing her in my dreams. She calls my name, sometimes. She says that she can promise me safety.”
Annabeth summoned Percy over silently with a quick hand movement. He leaned across to see Dragon’s drawing and dropped his coffee mug. The shatterproof ceramic bounced heavily off the floor and came to rest.
“Is that Thalia?”
***
Dragon glared at him. “Who’s Thalia? Another know it all kid from your camp, no doubt. I don’t know who this is, like I was telling Annabeth. It’s just… she knows my name. Not Dragon, but the one I’ve never told anyone. The name they gave to the Midnight Assassin. And I know – somehow – that she is real.”
Percy nodded absently. “Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus. She’s a Hunter of Artemis – in fact, she’s the-”
“- lieutenant. The others called her that, in my dream. It means… well, it’s a military rank, and even I know that.”
Dragon looked at him closely. “Artemis… Does she sometimes take the form of a ten year old girl? And she has access to Olympian Silver?”
She pulled her knife out, flipping it and catching it by the blade. “She gave me this. That’s where Thalia got my original name from. Next time you see her, tell her to stop calling me that. I hate that name.”
She stood, scooping up her drawing stuff and handing the sketch to Percy. “Tell her she can have this, as long as she stays out of my head. I’ve got enough shit in there already.” But still, as she left, she couldn’t shake the image of blue eyes and a promise of safety, a glittering circlet on dark, dark hair.
Dragon sat in the assigned room in Stark tower – in the conditioning room in the HYDRA laboratory – free, free and unchained – strapped to a table and gagged – no one would hurt her – the Handler was coming, and he was angry.
He had the whip in one hand, and his gaze was full of anger. “You failed to complete your assignment. This will not be passed over lightly.”
“I’m sorry, please, please-” Her voice was cut out by her screams.
Red walls, red bloodstains covering the floor. She stood opposite the boy – her age only ten, he almost fourteen.
“Fight. The winner liver, the loser dies. Understand, Midnight Assassin? Understand, Ice Warrior?”
They nodded assent and the fight began. His dagger raked across her shoulder, and her eyes flickered turquoise. She pushed it back.
He laughed, and she saw oh-so-clearly, he had let the Warrior out to play. She ran at him, kicking his chest with all of her ten year old strength. He lost balance and she swiped at his ankles, leaping on top of him and pressing the dagger to his throat.
“The Assassin wins. Finish it,” called the Handler. She stepped back, shaking her head. “He fought well. He is a good warrior. I will not.”
And the boy’s eyes flicked open; he leapt on her, and sliced through her skin again and again and again-”
Dragon opened her eyes and leapt to her feet, and then realised. She had fallen asleep again. “Stupid,” she told the empty room, grabbing a pen and drawing three fresh Sleepless glyphs on to her arm.
She knew she couldn’t risk her brother or Nico noticing, so she added five focus glyphs and a glamour glyph. Then she realised her brother would wonder why she had the glamour so she adapted it to give her full makeup and hide all her scars. Changing into a tank top and jeans, she resolved to find someone to fight with her.
She walked into the main room, where a game of Call of Duty was in full swing. Steve and Bucky were team playing against Natasha and Annabeth. It was one of the levels Dragon was more familiar with, so she sat down to watch.
Tony stared at the girl who had walked into his living room. She seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place her. She was confident and beautiful, wearing a dark smoky eye, black tank top and black jeans, and she leant over Steve’s shoulder, casually giving advice. Bucky looked at her.
“What brought the Glamour glyphs on again, Dragon? I thought you didn’t care about your appearance.”
The girl glared at him. “Actually, I did it to see Tony’s reaction.” They glanced across, and smiled simultaneously at the star struck billionaire. “Close your mouth honey, you’ll catch flies." He glared at her.
Percy frowned at her thoughtfully. “That scar of yours… I used to know a guy with a scar almost like that. His ran down his cheek, not over his eye.”
She met his gaze steadily. “I met a guy with a scar like that. It was, oh, maybe six months ago. He was unarmed, cornered by a gang, so I used a Transportation glyph to get us both out of there. For some reason he seemed certain he should be dead. I convinced him of a second chance. He crashed at my apartment for a few nights until he found a job and a place to stay. He’s probably still in touch with the Noctes.”
“What was his name?” said Tony, more out of politeness than anything else.
“He gave me a fake second name, I’m certain of it, but the forename he gave was Luke.”
Percy snorted. “Coincidences, hmm? The guy I knew was called Luke too. Luke Castellan.”
“Who are the Noctes?” interrupted Tony, attempting to regain some dignity.
“Support group, kind of, for people I’ve helped. They have a flat as a meeting base and a message group. I make a point of putting anyone I help in touch – most of them are demigods, legacies, or mortals with the Sight, and having others around you can make it so much easier.”
She glanced at her bare wrist, then sighed and asked “JARVIS, what’s the time?”
“Five minutes to seven.”
She grinned. “I’ll be in my room. Catch you later!” As she spoke, she slipped into an English accent, the change in tone surprising the team. Steve looked at Tony. "She only speaks like that when she's excited. What's she planning?"
Tony glanced around at the team, lounging on chairs in various stages of apathy. “Who thinks we should do something fun tonight?”
YOU ARE READING
Heroes and Dragons - An Avengers/PJO crossover
FanfictionPercy Jackson x Avengers fanfic Steve Rogers hasn't had an easy run of it. But just when he thinks he might be able to settle down into his new life with the Avengers, a ghost from the past wanders into his life. Well, she's dragged in against her w...
