Chapter Text
May came with a soft breeze and warmer temperatures. Being San Francisco it still rained, but on this particular Sunday late in the month the weather was brilliant - endless blue sky without a cloud in sight. It was an official holiday for both the Legion and New Rome, the day when the new shrines that Jason started and Percy finished were finally unveiled and consecrated.
It was also a formal event, everyone wearing festival togas to mark the occasion. Unlike the typical white used for Senate meetings, festival togas were colored and styled with embroidery to denote a person's divine heritage. Such togas were often handed down the generations within old families from when such events were more common. But since there hadn't been one in years, an assortment of seamstresses - mostly nature spirits - had popped up to design and make togas for those who needed them. All of it was free, which Becca suspected was another scheme of Percy's.
She wasn't used to wearing a toga but her neighbor helped her make sure it was tucked and folded right. She still felt subconscious as she made her way to Temple Hill. For some reason the central piazza was blocked off so she wound her way through the side streets. She was finally free of her knee brace, having run the allotted time given for her “recovery.” People marveled at how steady her gait was so she just smiled and thanked the gods. It felt nice having all that behind her now.
Her parents even flew out for the ceremony, although she knew it was really to check in on her. After everything that happened, they wanted her back in Alabama but Becca was doing okay in New Rome. She stopped by their guesthouse to pick them up. Her dad’s toga matched her own, light blue with a darker blue design of flowing water on the trim. Her mom didn’t want to advertise her own Underworld heritage so she wore a simple white toga with dark gold lines on the trim.
Heather and Gwen saw them first when they got to the site, Gwen actually squealing when she saw her and gushing over how pretty her toga was. Her parents urged her to join her friends and would catch up later. They headed off as the three girls gossiped about who was here and what to expect.
The site itself, which seemed to be a large raised square maybe 400 feet long on each side, was still roped off. Unlike the other temples it had no roof and was open to the sky. Before the actual platform stood two slanted marble markers on each side of the entrance giving the site its name: Campo Gratiae in Latin on one side, and Field of Grace, the English translation, on the other. Several flowers had been placed at the base of both markers, likely a tribute to Jason.
They wandered around, catching up with some other people and generally just enjoying the day. Eventually a bell sounded and the consecration ceremony started. A young girl that Becca didn’t recognize stood in the middle behind a gold brazier. She was dressed in a white toga with flame designs incorporated along the trim. It wasn’t until she started the ceremony, talking quietly and yet somehow projecting her voice for everyone to hear that Becca realized the trim of her toga were actual flames; she was a goddess. When she started the prayer, it was revealed to be Vesta, which had several people kneeling on reflex. Romans weren’t used to gods showing up, or at least they hadn’t been before Percy came. They were slowly getting used to it but Vesta was one of the most revered gods in Ancient Rome; even back then few had ever seen her in human form.
Frank and Hazel stood to one side, representing the Legion. Frank’s toga was a dark red with solid gold trim, while Hazel’s was solid gold with black trim and what looked like gems sewn into the border. On the other side stood Percy, who someone finally managed to get into a toga. It was sea green, a few shades darker than his eyes, with blue, silver, and bronze waves embroidered on the trim. Next to him stood Jason’s sister Thalia, wearing a silver toga with an electric blue meander trim. She looked quite unhappy with her outfit.
Seeing them up there made Becca feel transcendent. She rarely cared much these days about the history of Rome and her role in it, having become too jaded over the years, but she could feel the thread that linked all of them to that history and those people from millennia ago. It was a humbling feeling, but also filled her with a kind of pride she hadn’t felt in years.
Offerings were thrown into the fire and Vesta called upon the gods to recognize the honor Rome had given them that day by honoring Rome in kind. It sounded a lot more balanced than Becca was used to when talking about their relationship with the gods; she wondered if that was new or if it had always been that way.
Finally the ground was deemed consecrated and named sacred to the gods. Vesta waved away the ropes and invited everyone to come and bask in their new creation.
And it was beautiful. Rome has hundreds of minor gods so an individual shrine or temple to all of them just wasn’t possible. What Percy created was a bit of a compromise. The Field of Grace was divided into different sections, each representing a theme: agriculture, botany , wind and air gods, water gods, gods of the Underworld, and so forth. Although the entire thing was built with white marble, each section was decorated and designed to represent those gods with a central pillar for offerings. The names of the gods themselves were then written on stones that surrounded each pillar, along with their domains, titles, and small depictions of some of their sacred objects. Pamphlets with a map and description of each section were handed out, along with a directory for the gods represented. All in all, several hundred gods were honored.
She found her parents at one of two Underworld sections, her mom staring disbelievingly at the stones that honored her ancestor Vejovis. He was a god of healing and protection but his association with death also placed him in the Underworld. Becca knew it was probably a huge shock. She grabbed a few flowers from one of the passing nymphs who carried them in baskets for the worshippers, handing one to her mom and placing the other at the base of the platform with a small silent prayer. After a moment, her mom followed her actions.
Hazel walked up and Becca quickly introduced them. She told her mom they made a daughter of Pluto a Praetor but she seemed in awe to see Hazel standing there, claiming her Underworld heritage so freely. Hazel did the expected small talk as host, thanking them for coming. She also gave a cryptic message with a gleam in her eye that both of them understood perfectly; finally their own divine heritages were being respected. She squeezed Becca's arm with a smile and left to work more of the crowd.
As she wandered through the shrines she noticed that Vesta was not the only divine presence there. Several gods wove through the crowds, some in the Greek form and some in their Roman. She could only tell the difference because the Roman gods wore togas. Lord Apollo was giving a personal tour to his Roman daughter Madison who Percy brought to camp a few weeks ago. She was really young, only six she thinks, so Percy bypassed Lupa for the time being. Becca didn’t know the details but knew she had no mortal family to go back to. There was talk of taking her to Camp Half-Blood for a couple years so she could grow up a bit before being thrust into military life at camp. The Greek demigods living in New Rome were there as well, not in togas but still dressed formally as they helped the nymphs with offerings, directions, and refreshments.
She spotted Percy off to the side talking with a tall man in a dark blue short sleeve button-up that looked so much like an older version of Percy she actually did a double take. She figured that must be Lord Poseidon. As she watched, the god slung an arm around his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. Even from afar the pride was palpable.
After some more socializing and checking out the shrines, Becca and Heather lined up at the refreshments table. A little ways away, Percy stood talking with Jake and Drew, Madison now happily sitting on his hip. It seemed Jake and Drew were giving him ideas for what he needed to do for Camp Half-Blood now that the shrines were done. Percy whined about having too much work.
“Whatever,” he grumbled. “I guess that’s what they say - semper ad meliora.” The two Greeks just stared at him.
“Yeah,” Drew nodded. “I totally say that all the time.”
Percy smirked while Jake asked what it meant. Little Madison was trying to work it out in her head.
“It means, oh it means… ‘always…flowers’? Is that right?” she asked with her nose adorably scrunched up.
“ Meliora , not melora ,” Percy corrected her gently. She was really too young for Latin to fully come to her but it was a good start.
“It means ‘always towards better things’,” Hank called out from the table.
“Nice,” Jake nodded. “Not sure it needs to be said in Latin, but…”
They continued to banter as Becca and Heather laughed, heading out again into the crowd with their snacks.
After a few hours, people started heading back into the city. Terminus let them all by without his usual OCD commentary on their appearances. Just past the gates, Camilla came running up to them.
“Did you see?’ she asked breathlessly.
They didn’t know what she was talking about so she grabbed Heather’s hand and started dragging her into the city. Becca soon realized they were headed to the central piazza.
Which somehow, overnight, had been completely rebuilt.
A new grand fountain sat in the middle, a mix of old and new styles. Stone benches lined the piazza once again, but that is not what Camilla was so worked up about. “Look!” she gasped, pointing to the ground.
Beneath their feet the gravel had been replaced with large stones, each one engraved with a name. Looking around, Becca realized it was the names of those who had served in the Legion during the wars, both living and dead. She and Heather immediately started looking for specific names. While she looked, she noticed it wasn’t just names of legionnaires, but of people in the city, both those who fought in the Axillary and the civilians who helped take care of the wounded and rebuilt after the battles. There were no cohort numbers given with the names, or titles or any other descriptors, just the names themselves; they were all treated equally.
It took twenty minutes but near one of the newly installed lampposts, Becca found the one name she had been looking for: Lien Minh Vu. And next to it for all prosperity was her own: Rebecca Jean Watson.
She bent down to touch the stone reverently with one hand, while another covered her mouth. Lien’s death was still a sore point for her but it was getting better. The idea that she would be remembered like this, for everyone that came to the Legion and the city after, had her absolutely speechless.
“Do you like it?” a voice above her asked. The hem of a sea green toga entered her view. She looked up at Percy. “I figured you would want to be together.” She jumped up and gave him a hug, which surprised him but he gently hugged back. She asked him how he managed to do all this.
“You gave me the idea, actually.” Her face scrunched in confusion. “Your ancestor? Juturna? Goddess of fountains? I didn’t know there was such a thing. Took a while to track her down but she was pretty game once I did.”
Becca laughed. Somehow it didn’t surprise her that Percy Jackson could look up a goddess he had never heard of before and almost immediately get her to do what he wanted.
Heather came over, looking a bit emotional herself, and wrapped an arm around Becca’s shoulder when she saw the names. She thanked Percy sincerely, but he just waved it off with a smile. Someone called his name and he left for the other side of the piazza.
She spotted Quin over by the fountain and the girls wandered over. Quin had chilled out over the past month, especially about the Greeks. She wasn’t sure what brought about the change, but she was glad to see more of the friend she grew up with in the Second Cohort than the uptight ass he became after he was named Centurion.
Unlike the old tiered fountain, this one had water that cascaded from bowl to bowl in a spiral pattern. Different motifs were carved into the white marble catches. Becca spotted different flowers, grains, waves, birds, arrows, swords, spears, and more all mixed together. She realized they represented the different domains of the gods, but not the gods themselves. Quin was staring at the inscription in the center of the pedestal that read:
Si monumentum
requiris,
Circumspice
“If you seek a monument, look around you.”
And she realized that is what this was, a monument to all those who fought to keep Rome standing. Some weren’t with them anymore, but their sacrifice endured. The monument was the city and the Legion and Rome itself. Of their struggles and pain and perseverance. Because in the end, they were the legacy.
She threaded an arm through Quin’s and leaned her head on her shoulder. She felt lighter than she had in a very long time.
Marcel, Antonia, and Jordan soon joined them, talking excitedly about the piazza renovations. It finally felt alive again after more than a year of being a sad reminder of everything they lost. The charge in the air was palpable.
Heather was watching Percy talk with Nico and Vesta - or rather her Greek form, so Hestia she thinks? - on the edge of the piazza. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, turning their attention to the son of Poseidon, “the naiad who made my toga called him the Prince of Changing Tides for how much change he has brought to Olympus.”
“And the camps,” Becca added.
“The tree nymphs–”
“Dryads.”
“Sorry, the dryads call him the Lord of Wild Waters,” said Jordan.
“Savior of Olympus, two-time Hero of Olympus,” noted Becca.
“General of Olympus,” Antonia added.
“Hero of Atlantis.”
“Child of prophecy, hero of the Prophesied Seven,” listed Marcel.
“Bane of Titans. Bane of Giants. Bane of Gaea.”
“Pristinus Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata,” Quin finally chimed in. They fell quiet for a moment.
“They say he’s going to become a god,” Antonia mused.
“A Greek god,” Marcel corrected.
Quin hummed. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe a Roman god too.”
“If it happens,” warned Jordan. “Because apparently he already turned down godhood once.”
“If it happens,” Antonia agreed.
Becca smiled. She knew they would come around on Percy Jackson eventually. She was starting to think it was almost impossible not to. “Well in the meantime,” she said, looking up at Quin, “ Semper ad meliora.” He smiled back.
“Semper ad meliora.”