How Icarus Fell From the Sun (a Solangelo fanfic)

in which nico forgets he's dreaming and just suffers bc i'm nice like that

It is a costly thing, Cupid said, looking on the true face of Love.

A column fell near Jason, but Nico paid no attention to it. Cupid's voice was coming from about 60 feet away, and Nico needed to make sure he had pinpointed it. It was his only distraction from what he knew was about to happen.

My wife Psyche learned that lesson, Cupid said. She was brought here eons ago, when this was the site of my palace. We met only in the dark. She was warned never to look upon me, and yet she could not stand the mystery. She feared I was a monster. One night, she lit a candle, and beheld my face as I slept.

"Were you that ugly?" Jason said.

Nico ignored the way Cupid laughed. He paid no attention to the fact that he was pleased by Nico's fear. And he certainly didn't notice the glee in his voice as he got closer to what was to come. Instead, he listened as the voice moved, slowly but surely, away from where it had been , and closer to the two boys.

I was too handsome, I'm afraid. A mortal cannot gaze upon the true appearance of a god without suffering consequences. My mother, Aphrodite, cursed Psyche for her distrust. My poor lover was tormented, forced into exile, given horrible tasks to prove her worth. She was even sent to the Underworld on a quest to show her dedication. She earned her way back to my side, but she suffered greatly.

Out of nowhere, Jason thrust his sword upwards, and a bolt of lightning hit the spot the voice had been coming from. Nico wanted to yell out. He knew Cupid had moved. He knew he was coming closer. He knew a bolt of lightning that large would tire Jason out. But his trembling legs had now become his trembling body, and his voice failed him as Jason was sent toppling to the ground, and his sword skittered away.

Nico needed to do something. He knew what Cupid wanted from him. Was he really willing to offer it up? He felt like there was something he needed to remember. But there was no time to think.

A good try, Cupid said, his voice already impossible to find. But Love cannot be pinned down so easily.

Next to Jason, a wall collapsed, and Nico watched as he barely managed to roll away. He had to do it.

"Stop it!" Nico yelled. "It's me you want. Leave him alone!"

Poor Nico di Angelo. Do you know what you want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love. It was the only way to atone for her lack of faith. And you—what have you risked in my name?

He put on a brave face. He was scared, and exhausted, and hurt, but he needed to save Jason. "I've been to Tartarus and back," he snarled. "You don't scare me."

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

Jason began to pull himself up as Nico stood up straight. He was no longer tired, or scared. He was angry. He was going to get the scepter from this good for nothing god, or die trying. The grass around him died as quickly as he had shifted perspective. He could feel the spirits of the dead trying to push through. It was everything he could do to keep both his anger and terror in check to keep them from coming up through the ground beneath him.

"Give us Diocletian's scepter," he said. "We don't have time for games."

Games? Cupid moved again, this time throwing Nico sideways into a pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work—a quest that never ends. It demands everything from you— especially the truth. Only then does it yield rewards.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nico could see Jason stealthily retrieving his sword. Good, he thought. I need to keep Cupids focus on me while Jason escapes.