Fan The Flames

Forbidden

"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"

A figure crept past the cabins. The harpies were prowling around the area, watching for any campers trying to sneak around. Campers like him.

It took him only a few days to realise how inefficient they were in their watch. Their pattern was predictable, slow and left blind spots for him to take advantage of.

He was grinning as he slip past them, his green eyes glimmering with mischief and amusement. He reached his destination: the amphitheatre. He went to the centre, where the firewood, nothing but soot and charred logs now, lay.

From his pocket he produced a small pouch of red powder, nearly empty. He took a handful and tossed it into the hearth.

The familiar warm sensation enveloped his senses as his world went black for a few moments before he reappeared in another room: a room not unlike the sitting rooms in those houses in the suburbs. Behind him was a brick fireplace from which he came out from. There were two armchairs made from mahogany, which he remembered for some reason. At the sides were bookshelves stocked with a plethora of books of many genres - myths of old, cookbooks and classics like Jane Eyre (based on a daughter of Athena. Big surprise) and other books he read once in class and have long forgotten since then.

She was standing in the centre, an expectant expression on her face. She was in her usual form: the 15 year old teenager, dressed in a fiery orange and red t shirt and jeans.

"I need more of this stuff." He pointed at the pouch. She sighed with a tad more drama than usual and waved her hand. The pouch instantly expanded, refilled.

"That's the first thing you say to me?" She held her arms akimbo. He grinned.

"Hi Hestia." The demigod in front of her, the so famous Perseus Jackson, gave a gallant bow. She detected some playful mockery.

"Well come on. What are you standing there for?"

He flashed her a smile that made her go a little weak in the knees. He strode forward and took her by the hand. Still a gentleman, she thought.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"The usual."

"Nice."

They teleported away, reappearing on a lush green hill. There was a bench besides them, which they sat on, overloooking Central Park.

Lampposts dotted the paths that swirled and swerved through the playgrounds and fields. They could see the pond in the distance, the dark marine moonlit, sparkling like sapphires. There were many trees, including one hanging above them, its branches stretching over them as though in an embrace. Above them was the stars, not many of them were visible due to the urban landscape, unfortunately.

The two sat in silence. They'd been here many times, each time talking about a lot, but the topics drained themselves. Not to say each other's company was not welcome. Hestia found herself leaning against Percy's shoulder. Percy stroked her hair - something he was finally comfortable with after months of tentativeness. She closed her eyes, indulging in thr warmth of him and the cool night breeze, the peaceful silence and the sleepy melodies of nature.

Then she addressed the elephant in the room, the same one that had been present since 6 months ago, "How much more should we hide this?"

Percy was silent. At first Hestia thought he hadn't heard, but he replied, his tone void of humour, "How long more do you want to?"

"No more." She whispered. "It's driving me crazy, having to hide this."

"It's your vow, isn't it? This - this relationship we have, it's unthinkable if this were to go out."

"I know, but —"

He interupted her. "It wouldn't just by my life in danger, but yours too. I...I can't bear to imagine if you lost your immortality, or worse."

"Maybe there's something we can try, to remove my vow."

"You swore on the Styx. didn't you?" Percy was solemn.

She remembered that oath she made an eternity ago.
At that time she was adamant she would never fall in love, but now she met Perseus Jackson, and what she wanted now more than ever was to go back in time to change her fate.

"It wouldn't help, you know?" Percy's voice startled her from her reverie.

"What?"

"Changing fate. It never works." He stared at the blank night sky. "I know." Those words spoke years of experience of dealing with prophecies. Hestia never forgot that. The victim of a Great Prophecy, which had beaten him into the person he is today.

They lapsed into a momentary silence before he spoke again.

"Don't blame yourself for the oath you took. You couldn't know what would happen now, and you had good reason to take it."

"I didn't," she replied bitterly. "I was selfish and desperate. I never gave the other gods a chance. I assumed they would be like my father. I mean, they resemble him somewhat now, but I could have done something, possibly, changed them. Who knows, Olympus could be different from what it is today if I never made my oath."

"Well, then you wouldn't have met me." He tried for a smile and got a slight one in return.

"Fate doesn't give exceptions. What's done is done," He said with a note of finality.

"So what? I can't do anything?" Frustration clenched her fist.

"Maybe," He answered quietly. "Maybe we can't do anything, or reveal what we have. But if this ever gets out, and something happens to you...I'll stop it. I'll do anything to. I swear on —"

His voice was cut off to the feeling of someone's mouth on his. It was Hestia. Hestia, kissing him, on the lips. They were warm. She tasted like cinnamon. He gave up trying to think.

They broke apart after a few seconds. Their heartbeats were racing. Percy's eyes were wide and he was gaping. Hestia's expression was steely.

"Don't say it," she whispered. "Don't swear anything more. What happens...it'll happen. We'll go through it together."

He blinked a few times. "Alright then," he said.

Hestia took his hand and leaned against his shoulder. The night felt much more warmer now.