"in the time of gods and monsters, what is the worth of a man?"
dorothy trelawney, a girl out of time with a goddess to save and a world to learn.
(fem!o/c x jason grace)
book one of four : the lost hero - the son of neptune
i only own dorothy trel...
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*.·:·.⟐.·:·.*
LAS VEGAS NEVADA 2010
THE FUZZY HAZE IN Dorothys mind felt a disturbance when something stopped her from eating yet another lotus flower. A spike of anger went through her but when she looked to the person attached to the hand that stopped her, confusion stirred her consciousness. The boy she was staring at was familiar, yet a stranger. She blinked and squinted as she stared him down. His shaggy black hair fell in dark brown eyes with sagginess that came from what Dorothy could only say is from months of no sleep. He was sickly pale yet still standing and seeming healthy. She could see the pain in his eyes.
"Dorothy?" He asked, his voice was deep, to Dorothy, he was grown enough.
"Have I met you?" She asked, his accent was foreign to her, sounding like he lived in a city on the east coast. She was thinking York.
"Do you remember Bianca di Angelo and-"
"Nico," Dorothy interrupted him, memories of the two kids flooded back as she looked around, the haze in her mind was gone and a new ache settled in her head as she took in all the machines and technology around her. She was no longer in the Lotus Saloon. This was a new building, she had no idea where she was.
Dorothy never let her emotions overcome her but there were some things that simply just went out of her control. As she looked around, her eyes taking in the machines around her, she felt her chest closing up. The temperature in her face was rising and her eyes welled with tears. She clutched onto the counter and Nicos forearm to steady herself. Her throat constricted and soon she was losing air. She looked to Nico who was studying her face. He sighed and looked at the device on his wrist.
"I don't have time for this," he spoke and looked back to her, "I'm sorry, Dot, you'll see your horse soon."
Dorothy only remembered him drawing the sword that was hung on his waist and the butt of it smacking against her temple.
Dorothy dreamt of the time her Uncle Morgan took her out fishing. It was the day she was exposed to the world that her father raised her in. Her and Uncle Morgan were fishing by the creek near the new camp they were living in for months now, she was making a flower necklace while he caught a few fish, releasing the smaller ones. She had just finished it when two men on horseback approached him. Her first instinct was to get behind Uncle Morgan and his first instinct was to hide her face.
"Morgan Van Der Linde?" The older man called out, "that you?"
"Who're you?" His gruff voice was different from the one he uses toward her, scarier. Dorothy was trembling behind Uncle Morgan as he talked to the two officers.
