Chapter Text
Training wasn’t Jason’s favorite pastime on the Argo II.
They spent enough time on their feet with their weapons in their hands as it was. Adding daily drills into the mix? There wasn’t a single day his muscles didn’t ache, he was practicing his footwork in his sleep, and his ears rang all the time from the constant, deafening clashing of blades.
At least, he thought as he parried Frank’s jab, it wasn’t his one-on-one day with Percy.
It had been Annabeth’s idea. They trained constantly at Camp, she reasoned, and being on a months-long quest wasn’t cause to stop; if anything, it was a reason to train harder. Coach Hedge agreed immediately, and once she secured Percy’s vote, it was over. She drew up a schedule, and they began the next day. An hour and a half straight of Annabeth shouting drills and positions, of running laps around the deck, of pushups and sit-ups and burpees and weights training and the gods-damned pacer test. An hour and a half of grueling exercises, and then a ten minute break.
Ten minutes. That’s it.
Only ten minutes to rest before the sparring session. The way Annabeth drew it up had them rotating: five days of sparring, with a different partner each day, followed by one day paired with Percy. On the seventh day, they rested.
When Piper asked why partnering with Percy was the week’s endgame, Annabeth had just smiled.
When Hazel asked why Percy didn’t get days off, Percy had just smiled.
Jason didn’t like it. No one in their right mind enjoyed not having days off training. Even Reyna liked days off of training. And maybe if she were here, he’d get her on his side, but she wasn’t, and Jason was stuck.
Frank swept the shaft of his pilum at Jason’s feet, and he barely managed to jump out of the way.
Piper watched from the control console, shouting encouragement to Hazel, whose Imperial Gold spatha was up against Annabeth’s Celestial Bronze kopis. An even match, Jason thought. Just like his spear against Frank’s pilum. Nice pairings. And then there was Leo and Percy’s match. Percy had Riptide, his leaf-shaped xiphos, while Leo was wielding a double-headed battle axe. He’d modified it; added flashy, ornate bronze flames to the handle, and tempered the heads until they could withstand him lighting them on fire.
Jason finally managed to cut Frank’s pilum in two, and they both immediately turned to watch the match. Soon after, Hazel knocked Annabeth’s sword from her hands, and they did the same.
Leo had been aching to use his axe all week. Percy was the only one who had experience against axes, Annabeth had argued, so to avoid accidents, Leo would have to wait until his spar with Percy. Today was the day he’d been waiting for, and he wasn’t holding back. Even with Leo enthusiastically swinging at him, Percy managed to look completely at ease. He pointed out missteps, corrected Leo’s grip and footwork, and danced closer to adjust his stance with a smack with the flat of his blade before dodging out of range and resuming the fight.
After a while, Percy backed up and flourished his sword. “I think you’re ready, Leo,” he said with a grin. “All out?”
“I hate all out,” Leo complained, but adjusted his stance and his grip on his axe. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“This is training, Leo,” Percy replied. “Don’t let yourself get hurt.” With that, he threw himself forward.
Leo’s defense was stronger than his offense, but neither were holding up well against Percy. He’d gotten inside Leo’s reach in about ten seconds, then started whaling on him like a punching bag. Jason knew from experience—he was only using the flat of Riptide’s blade, and Leo had leather arm guards on, but he’d be a walking bruise for the next few days. With luck, he’d heal up just in time for his next one-on-one against Percy. All that was left was waiting—the duel would end either when Leo got a hit on Percy, or Percy decided he was done smacking Leo around.
As the minutes passed, it became increasingly clear that Leo wouldn’t get a hit. “Come on, Leo,” Percy urged. “One hit. You’re gonna face someone more skilled than me, someday.”
“Oh, please,” Leo scoffed, yelping as Riptide connected with his rib cage. “No one’s more skilled than you.”
Jason stopped listening. He couldn’t argue; in all the years he’d been in the Legion, and now the almost-year he had at Camp, he’d never seen anyone better at fighting than Percy. Annabeth came close, and maybe a few others, but Percy was on his own level of skill. Everything thrown at him was blocked, parried, or thrown right back with the same level of intensity. It still hurt to hear. That his friends put more trust in Percy than Jason to protect them, that they thought he was better. It hurt, and he tried not to let it, but it was true. He was better.
In one of Jason’s one-on-one sessions, they’d both been using spears. Percy had looked less sure of himself than normal, but he’d still had Jason flat on his ass in under five minutes. In one of Piper’s one-on-ones, Percy had been using a knife to fend off Katoptris. While the spar had lasted longer than any of the fights where he’d been using Riptide, Piper hadn’t gotten one hit in. She came away with barely intact vambraces and even more bruises than usual. Even Annabeth could barely win against him. Their spars always lasted the longest, paced the fastest, drew the most blood. Percy didn’t use the flat of the blade when he fought Annabeth, and neither did she. With her favored dagger, and a spare knife she’d picked up from their measly ship armory, and her five years more training than Percy had, the two were evenly matched.
Jason couldn’t understand it, couldn’t figure out how.
Leo tripped backwards trying to dodge Riptide, and his axe went scattering across the deck. Spar over. “Practice your footwork,” Percy instructed as he helped Leo up, “and work on your grip. The rest we can work on again next week.” Leo nodded and went after his axe.
Percy turned to face the others. How he did it, Jason would never know, but somehow he managed to keep track of the others’ fights as well as his own, and always gave encouragement and feedback. “Good job, Frank,” he noted today. “Hand-on-hand with a throwing weapon isn’t easy.”
“Yeah, well,” Frank blushed, “you can’t exactly throw things at Jason and expect a hit.”
Jason pasted a grin on his face. “You’re welcome to try,” he offered. Frank snorted and shook his head.
Percy turned to the girls. “Nice footwork, Hazel. You’re improving quickly.” Hazel flushed with pride and nodded her thanks. “Annabeth.” Percy’s eyes met hers with an amused glow. “You were distracted.”
She shrugged. “Your fight was something. Can you blame me?”
“Yeah, I can,” Percy replied back, getting closer. His eyes were bright and his smile mischievous. “Hazel’s formidable. She could’ve hurt you for real.”
Annabeth got closer too, grinning at Percy’s challenge. “We’ll just have to work on distractions during our next spar, then,” she drawled.
Percy smirked down at her. “I think I can manage that.”
“Break it up, you two!” Hedge shouted from the rail.
“Jealous, Gleeson?” Percy snarked, turning to the satyr. “We can work on distractions, too, if you want.”
Coach Hedge blew a raspberry at Percy and eyed his club. “How ‘bout we work on dodging, instead?”
Percy grinned deviously. “Oh, you’re so on.” He turned to the rest of them. “That’s it for you guys. Stick around if you feel like it.”
Jason wouldn’t. His first priority was a hot shower to sooth his aching muscles, and if that distracted him from how his friends trusted Percy more than him? Even better. As Jason walked belowdecks, he could hear Percy telling Hedge, “If it won’t break a bone on contact, you’re not swinging hard enough. Ready?”
A whistle, and the sounds of a fight began.
No one else came with him. Well, that was their loss. Jason would get the hottest water.
Annabeth was preening. She’d been timing everyone’s spars with Percy. In only three weeks of crossing the ocean, she said, the group average time had risen by seven seconds. Longer spars built muscles more efficiently than just exercising, apparently, and it meant they were getting better at fighting. It was time to throw in some variables, she had decided.
They landed on a rocky beach in Spain.
“You’re kidding,” Piper breathed. She stood, arms akimbo, atop a boulder as tall as Leo.
“No,” she replied, “but I have a treat for after our sparring session.” The determination in Annabeth’s grin left no room for argument. Jason thought perhaps she’d have faced more resistance if it wasn’t her day to fight Percy. As it was, Jason and Leo paired up with little grumbling, while Hazel climbed to take Piper’s place on the boulder while she slid down to spar Frank.
Percy slowly backed up towards the water before Annabeth caught him and laughed. “Get back here, Seaweed Brain.”
“Maybe you should come get me, Wise Girl,” he called. A wave crested behind him, reaching across the shore to tickle the back of his sneakers.
“Any of those waves come any closer, and I’ll think you’re scared,” she taunted, flourishing her kopis as she stalked forward. Jason turned his attention to Leo; the gladius he’d taken to training with when he wasn’t using his axe was already flickering with fire.
Jason won by a much slimmer margin than he had last week. Leo’s footwork was miles better than it had been when they started, and while his technique with his sword was more fit for his axe, it did its job keeping Jason on his toes. When he glanced around, Frank had Piper’s knife, Katoptris, under his boot. She was chatting with him as they watched Percy and Annabeth.
The two of them had floated down the beach. Percy had a bleeding cut on his forehead, and Annabeth’s sword arm was held to her chest, dagger gripped tightly in the other fist. The group of them shouted in shock as Annabeth charged Percy. He danced to the side, twisting and tripping her, sending her tumbling to the sand. She laid there for a few seconds before rolling to her feet and sniping a comment to Percy. He shrugged. They stopped sparring just long enough to trade weapons, and then the fight was on again. It was, perhaps, the closest fight he’d ever seen Percy win. Annabeth caught Riptide on Percy’s bicep, and instead of flinching away from the cut, Percy shoved closer, making his wound worse and getting his other arm around her neck in one move.
Annabeth did not stop shouting about ‘reasonable risks’ and ‘reckless behavior’ until Percy emerged from the ocean with a ripped sleeve and a raised red line underneath, and they both approached the others.
“Frank! Great job, man,” Percy grinned, “spear on knife fights are hard.” Frank blushed and shrugged as Percy offered Piper advice on fighting with reduced reach against a longer weapon. “And Leo, bro—I know you prefer your axe, but your sword play is getting a lot better. You’ve really been keeping up practicing your footwork, huh?” Leo blushed, too. What was it with people and blushing when Percy complimented them?
“I hope none of you are too tired,” Annabeth said. She side-eyed Percy, before lurching forward, smacking Piper’s arm, and shouting, “Tag, you’re it!”
Piper squealed in excitement, and immediately turned to Jason. He bolted. Leo tripped backwards trying to follow Hazel and Frank around a boulder to higher ground, and Percy started leaping from one boulder to another. Jason couldn’t look back to check, but loud cussing made him guess Leo’d been tagged. He grinned and sprinted faster.
Leo tagged Frank, who zeroed in and chased Hazel down, and in turn she tackled Annabeth. It wasn’t until Annabeth tagged Percy that Jason got worried. He hadn’t been it yet. Percy was going to try and hunt him down. What kind of training was this? Endurance? Terrain? Strategy? Jason could clear his footprints with some wind, but was that cheating?
He decided not to. Percy was sneakier and could run farther, but Jason could run faster. All he had to do was lead Percy to someone else, and he could tag them. Jason stopped, crouching in the shadow of a massive boulder, careful not to disturb the pebbles beneath his feet, and tried to hear something past his heartbeat.
On the other side of the boulder, someone kicked a rock. Jason grinned and bolted the opposite direction. A second of silence, and then—the sounds of pursuit. “Give up now, Grace!” Percy called cheerfully.
“I’m good,” Jason shot back. He dodged a few huge rocks, hurdled some smaller ones. He skidded to a stop in front of one and turned to face Percy. His eyes were narrowed at Jason, and Jason feinted right. Percy leapt, and Jason quickly changed gears and ran left. But when he turned to check his pursuer’s progress, he saw Percy on the ground in front of the rock, curled up and gripping his foot.
“Oh, no.” No, no, no. A broken toe, foot, or ankle could put someone out of commission for weeks. They needed Percy; he was their strongest player. Jason jogged over, reaching for the square of ambrosia he kept in his pocket.
As he detangled it from his baggie of bandaids and his small roll of gauze, Percy’s hand wrapped around Jason’s ankle and pulled him to the ground. Jason landed hard on his butt. “You’re it,” he panted with a grin, stretching out and wiggling his feet happily. He started laughing between breaths, and Jason couldn’t help but join him.
A shrill scream pierced the air.
They were on their feet in an instant. The whole way, Percy was half a step in front of Jason. He charged into the clearing Hazel was in, sword still growing from its pen as he threw himself at the earthborn surrounding her.
Jason took his cue and skidded to a stop in front of Hazel. While Percy protected them, he made sure she was alright. “Hazel! Are you okay? What happened?”
“Some of these boulders?” She shook her head. “Not boulders. I was hiding behind a pile of them, and then they moved.” Her spatha already had a light gold dusting, and Jason found himself immensely glad she’d been doing so well in training.
“Shit!” Percy’s shout drew both of their eyes to him. Behind the three earthborn he was already fighting, another five were uncurling from where they’d been disguised as boulders, roused by the noise. Percy bit his lip, eyes darting from one monster to another. “Guys?” Riptide twirled in his fingers. The hilt was backward, blade running back to Percy’s elbow. “Run.”
And with that, he plunged his blade into the sand at his feet.
Nothing happened for a long, quiet moment, and Jason’s heart sank.
Percy pulled Riptide out, and started to run towards them. The sand where he’d been standing rumbled. Another moment later, a loud swoosh cracked through the air, and the earthborn vanished beneath it. The sand erupted like something below it exploded, and began to sink, faster and faster, radiating out until there was a tug at Jason’s sneakers.
He grabbed Hazel’s hand and listened to Percy; he ran. He ran until he heard Percy behind them slow to a stop, and turned to look.
A huge area, round like a whirlpool, sank down in a cone. Boulders from the size of a car to ones closer to Jason’s sneaker had fallen in the funnel and sunk down. In the center of the sinkhole, maybe fifty feet away, a single earthborn hand reached out, a rock shaped almost like an obelisk sticking out of the sand where the rest of the monster would be. As they watched, the hand disintegrated.
“What…” That had nothing to do with water. That had nothing to do with the ocean. Was Poseidon the god of beaches?
Percy bent over, putting his hands on his knees and panting. “Earthshaker.” He shook his head. “Dick.”
Thunder crashed, and Jason would swear later that it shook his teeth in his skull. He’d never heard anything even half as loud before. It screamed over the howling wind, demanding to be heard. The wind itself was vicious, tearing at everything in its path, trying to rip them up and fling them into the raging sky. Stinging rain pounded the deck in sheets, pummeling the ship as if trying to punch millions of little holes in it.
The waves, as tall as the Argo II itself, rocked the ship so violently he was certain they’d capsize soon. One after the other after the other pounded the warship. Jason would have lost his balance, maybe even fallen overboard by now, if he hadn’t been bungee corded to the mast.
The rain and the winds bucked against his control, and Jason refocused on trying to rein them in. Every muscle he had was shaking with the effort; these winds were wild. They refused to recognize Jason as their master.
Next to him, Percy seemed to be similarly struggling with the waves. He stood braced on the deck, glaring out at the ocean as if it had personally offended him. At his sides, his hands were open, fingers tense. Jason watched as he breathed deeply, and slowly clenched them into fists so tight Jason thought he might be drawing blood.
As his fists closed, the waves collapsed in on themselves. They broke against each other, against the ship, against the air, as if breaking on a beach. The ship rocked dangerously back and forth once, twice, three times more, before the ocean was calm.
Jason’s jaw dropped. The sea was as still as a mirror. Not even the rain made ripples in the calm sheet, because the rain had frozen in place, floating in the sky. The wind howled furiously, demanding its companion return to its side, but Percy growled viciously, and a few long moments later, it too died.
“Percy…” Words had abandoned him.
Jason’s father was the Lord of the Sky. How was Percy commanding the rain and the winds? And the—Jason watched, disbelief blooming in his chest as the rain danced down gently, trying not to wake the sleeping sea, and the charcoal, almost black storm clouds curled in on themselves and melted away to reveal the sun.
Jason hadn’t been able to wrangle the rain. The wind had ignored him. He’d been struggling too much to even think about the clouds yet. It didn’t make sense. Percy’s heritage granted him power over the ocean. Was it because this was a storm on the sea? How did it connect? The rain, Jason could understand. It was water. Clouds were a stretch. But wind?
Jason shook his head as Percy turned to him, tired grin painting his face in a mischievous light. “Stormbringer,” he panted, gazing out at the clear, calm picture Jason couldn’t even have imagined ninety seconds ago. He huffed out a laugh. “Asshole.”
The title echoed in Jason’s ears. Stormbringer.
Jason just blinked. Earthshaker. Stormbringer. Lord of the Seas. And damn, he gave Percy all of it.
Was that why Poseidon favored Percy? Because he was so powerful? On the flip side, was that why Jupiter didn’t care about Jason? Was Jason too weak for a child of Olympus’ King? Maybe if Jason worked harder, trained with his powers more, they’d grow. Maybe then his dad would love him. Besides, if Poseidon was the more powerful of the two, he’d have become King, wouldn’t he?
Jason tamped down on the train of thoughts swirling around Percy, and his power, and how he shouldn’t be more powerful than the son of the King—he tamped down on the jealousy and the hurt and the hope that practice would earn him more power, to impress his father with—and just resolved to train harder.