The Sea's Serpent

The Dreams

AN: Here we go! Why do I have a feeling that this chapter will be shit?

Time: Twenty years before the Second Titan War, about the time the cannon Percy was born

Artemis entered her Camp, a deer carcass on her shoulder.

The Hunters were as lively as ever. Not all of those who joined Percy's Hunt, remained, and none of the new Hunters knew about their original patron.

Hades, none of those born after his death knew about him. They just thought that he was a legend, a bogeyman created to scare the children. And what saddened Artemis, even more, was that the Romans had made him into an evil deity, darker than Saturn.

She shook her head. Percy had been dead for years. Perhaps he had faded. It was for the best, she thought bitterly, as he would be hellbent on eradicating the Olympians.

Yes, she still loved him. No, she wouldn't stand by his side if he decided to kill the Olympians. Even though they had betrayed him, they were the best rulers around.

Artemis knew that Percy would not rule. He would most likely ally himself with the Titans, seeing as the Giants were still bitter about him killing them in the First Giant War. The same day he met the same fate.

Artemis hauled the deer carcass off her shoulders, and immediately some Hunters came to collect it, dragging it over to the cooking tent. They didn't know about Percy. He would be sad.

Artemis shook her head. No use getting these thoughts. Percy wasn't the same person that he was.

'You made him into this. You killed him.' A small voice in the back of her head reminded Artemis.

She dropped her bow and arrows in the armoury tent, where some Hunters were sharpening the dull arrows. They groaned as they saw the new arrows they had to sharpen.

Artemis stifled a laugh.

Atlanta was teaching the newest recruits archery, while Zöe and Phoebe were in the arena, teaching them hand to hand combat, and how to defend against too eager males. The twangs of bowstrings and shouts echoed from the background.

Artemis entered her tent, dropping her hunting knives on the desk beside her bed. It had been a tiring day, and the goddess knew that she wouldn't be getting any sleep that night.

You see, it was a new moon night. The reason Artemis didn't take out her chariot on new moon nights was that she was under a curse. She had been cursed by the Fates when she had killed her lover. Every new moon night, she would see Percy. And no, not the old happy memories. She would see him as he was at that point in time. How much of his body had reformed, and where he was.

But it was a blessing in disguise for Zeus. The knucklehead had enough sense to know to keep tabs on Percy, knowing that the god would be out for his blood as soon as he reformed. It didn't matter that it hurt his daughter. All he cared for was his throne. He had even forced Artemis into an oath on the Styx. She would tell him always, truthfully, and with every detail, what she saw in her dreams about Percy, so he could keep a record on him.

Artemis stood in front of the mirror, examining herself. Percy had always loved her body. Percy had always loved her. He enjoyed playing with her auburn hair. She hadn't changed it. It was still the same length as it had been the day he had played with it last. Her silver eyes were still the same. However, they held a broken, incomplete look within them. She would only be complete when she was with Percy.