A Thousand and One Nights (a Percy Jackson AU)

A Thousand and One Tears

            As he placed a wreath of celery around his wife's curly tresses, Percy felt another wave of pain ripple through him. He felt as if the sea itself was pounding at his heart, threatening to make it crumble to sand like the sea eating away at a rocky outcrop. His wife looked so pale and fragile in her coffin that Percy wished that he was lying in it instead of her. He gazed once again at the wreath of celery and thought painfully of her bright smile and quick laughter. 

       As the coffin was closed, Percy felt as if his heart sealed too. His wife was dead. What was the point of being the king of Ithaca if his wife had been snatched away by cruel Hades? It was spring and the beauty of the day seemed to mock his grief. Percy briefly wondered whether she was gone because Hades had snatched her away to console himself while his immortal wife, Persephone, spent the spring with her mother Demeter. Thoughts like these had been haunting him since she died two nights ago. After all, how else could Percy explain the horribly sudden death of his pregnant young wife? 

*****

       "You haven't been eating, it's not good for you, King Percy."

       Percy ignored the voice, choosing instead to bury himself deeper under his thick ox hide blanket. It was a wedding present and it still smelled of her. The only thing he wanted to do now was curl up under his blanket and let Morpheus take away the pain temporarily. Even the sea no longer interested him. The idea of eating made him feel as queasy as his wife had been only a week ago every morning.

       "Percy, you need to eat," another, gentler voice said,

       Percy felt a weight on his shoulder and he opened his eyes to see his mother staring up at him, her face pinched with concern.

     "You need to eat," she repeated. "Your kingdom needs you."

        Those words were like a breeze perfuming the room with the salty tang of the ocean. Percy sat up, feeling weak and weighed down with grief. He still had no appetite, but he felt the yolk of duty strengthen. He silently accepted the jug of honeyed wine his mother had brought him to ease the stickiness clinging to his throat and he even consented to eating a few figs despite the churning in his stomach.

      Not long after he finished, he heard footsteps approaching the room. In a palace such as his, there was always noise, but few people had visited him in the past few days. There was only one person who would dare bother him now. Percy didn't even bother to hide his scowl as Octavian strode into the room, his black chlamys looking as pristine as could be. Octavian was a powerful priest, which meant that Percy was stuck listening to his advice despite the fact that he was ruthless and power hungry. His favorite pastime was reading the "entrails" of childrens' toys. 

      "King Percy, my condolences to you on your wife's passing," Octavian said smoothly.

       Though his pale face looked impassive, his voice seemed to tremble a little as he continued, "I know you are grieving still, but it is important that you find another bride," he said,

       Percy felt as if all the water had been drained out of his body. He sat up straighter and growled, "You think I wish to marry another?"

     "I know you are grieving, but the kingdom needs an heir," Octavian said. "If you do not have a son. . ."

     "Fine," Percy said tersely. "Here my order now. Each day I will meet a new woman. If I like one, I will marry them. If not, she will be made a slave."

    Octavian looked as if Zeus himself had offered him ambrosia. "You will consent to marry another woman?" he asked, sounding relieved.

     "You could send a thousand and one women but none will tempt me," Percy said. "I don't care how beautiful, funny, or witty they are. No one will ever replace Rachel."