Chapter Text
"Is it normal?" Luke watched in horror as Percy pulled another feather.
Percy sat cross-legged on the smooth green floor, tongue slightly sticking out in concentration as he examined the soft white feather between his fingers.
He looked fascinated, gripping the feather. "Can I keep it?" He tilted his head to Annabeth, who nodded eagerly, scooting closer so he could see better.
"Why are you so calm about this?" Luke questioned Annabeth, who held a mirror to stare at her feathers from her back. She twisted dramatically, nearly losing her balance before Percy grabbed her sleeve, giggling.
"They are tiny and pretty, I don’t mind," She responded, trying to angle the mirror again. "Look! This one is fluffy!" She wiggled her shoulders a bit. A few downy feathers floated upward and drifted lazily in the water like dandelion seeds.
Percy gasped. "They’re swimming!" he declared, chasing one before it dissolved into shimmer. "Does it hurt when I pull?" Percy asked with wide eyes, already reaching again.
"No, but stop pulling, you have a feather now," Annabeth huffed, swatting his hand away. "I need these to grow."
Percy clutched his prize feather to his chest like treasure. "I’m keeping it forever."
He then gently patted the tiny down still growing from her back, very serious about it now. “I’ll guard them.”
Defeated, Luke turned to Metis, who was watching the exchange with a fond smile.
Meanwhile, Annabeth had abandoned the mirror and was now trying to see if she could “feel the current” move through her feathers.
She flapped her arms once. Nothing happened. She flapped harder. Percy immediately joined her.
Luke facepalmed.
“Maybe you need to jump,” Percy suggested.
“Don’t jump,” Luke warned instantly.
Annabeth ignored him and did a small hop anyway. She floated slightly higher than she should have. Her eyes widened as Percy squealed.
“You did it! You flew!”
“I did not! But almost!” she protested, though she looked delighted.
Metis chuckled softly.
"She is growing her down," Metis explained. "It is a normal growth for 4 days, they would grow and fall, then her permanent feathers would grow,"
"I would have full wings!" Annabeth said excitedly, now spinning slowly in place, testing how the water moved around her shoulders. "Would I be able to fly?"
Percy gasped again, grabbing her hands. “You could carry me!”
“No I won’t!”
“You have to!”
“Only if you don’t pull my feathers!”
“I won’t”
“But you are heavy!”
“I am not!”
They were already arguing, Luke felt a headache.
"Flying, why not little pearl," Metis crouched down, letting children melt into her embrace. Percy climbed into her lap without hesitation. Annabeth leaned fully against her, examining the embroidery on Metis’s robes like it was treasure.
Percy traced a pattern with his finger. “Is this real gold?”
Metis smiled. “It is sea-gold.”
“Sea-gold is better,” Percy declared confidently.
“And you are so pretty with it,” Annabeth added, giggling as Metis held her tighter.
Luke stood a few feet away, watching two children giggling.
They had been here for 4 days now. And they were full of energy from the start, on move, without a stop. They had both waved enthusiastically at guards, every time they passed. Kept running, well, swimming. On halls, kept trying to catch fishes that swam innocently.
Now they were on the move again.
Small dolphins darted through columns. Bright fish shimmered in clusters. Even the currents seemed playful, nudging the children forward instead of pushing them back.
He has been chasing two 7 year olds around, trying to keep them safe.
Metis though, told him not to worry, as the children has the sea in their souls, no one would harm them here.
The guards that watched the palace were not human. Tall figures with tridents carved from white coral stood at entrances, their armor shimmering like fish scales, their eyes steady and watchful, but never hostile.
Still, Luke was not at ease.
They met with Triton, who was kind to all of them, accepting them and letting them leave whenever they wanted. He sat upon a throne carved from a single massive shell, spiralled and luminous. His hair flowed like dark water around his shoulders, his trident resting beside him, its’ points glowing faintly.
He was fond of little Annabeth and Percy, saying Annabeth looks just like her beautiful mother and grandmother, and Percy looks so much like his father, he is honored to welcome the new miracles to his home, blessed by the mighty fates.
Pallas, was also so happy to meet the children. She was young, head full of blond wavy hair and sea green eyes. She was thrilled to learn her friend has a child now, a miracle, kept pestering Triton to send a word to Olympus, hoping that Athena would get a chance to visit. She didn’t even bother to learn how it happened, she was just happy to expand her family.
Luke watched them play at the big garden, Percy and Annabeth running carefree, chasing Pallas, who laughed, faking to fall and grabbing the kids.
The palace was beautiful, too beautiful. The garden stretched beneath an open dome where sunlight poured down in shimmering columns. Coral trees arched high above, their branches adorned with glowing shells like lanterns.
She was kind enough to ask Luke to join, but he didn’t want to, still wary.
Percy and Annabeth were young, it seemed like they didn’t remember much.
But he remembered, much more now as the time passed. He remembered the gods, he remembered their ignorance, he remembered Kronos, he remembered fighting with the children, seeing their blood on his hands…
And here, they were laughing. As if fate had decided to rewrite everything.
Luke clenched his jaw, beautiful things had fooled him before.
“Are you better now, sister?”
Apollo’s hands were warm around hers, steady but tense, his eyes openly worried. Athena stood rigid, eyes still closed, jaw locked as she forced her breathing to slow.
Her wings had burst free without warning.
Golden-white feathers arched behind her, wide and powerful, catching the chamber’s light and scattering it across marble and stone.
She no longer showed them to mortals. There was no need. With time, the gods had chosen to appear more human, smaller, simpler, less divine. What was the point, as they barely believed anyway.
“I will be alright,” she said at last, though the words came through clenched breath. “We need to worry about tonight. The meeting, the Fates.”
Artemis stepped closer, her gaze sharp, not as a huntress now, not as a goddess, but as a sister.
“Your feathers look normal. There’s no redness on your skin,” she said quietly.
Athena opened her eyes and shot her a look.
“I am fine, sister.”
Her wings shifted once, a slow, involuntary movement, the feathers gleaming as they settled. She did not acknowledge them.
“We need to prepare,” she continued, her voice sharpening into strategy. “We must convince father that we need to act. We plan our questions carefully. We do not waste our chance.”
Ares exhaled sharply, his spear striking the ground with a metallic crack that echoed through the chamber. “I still don’t believe he will see any reason for us to intervene.”
The word intervene hung in the air, bitter and familiar.
Hermes paced once, restless energy barely restrained, he was never meant for stillness.
“We can’t be sure of that, brother. We have to try.”
Dionysus leaned back against a column, arms crossed, purple eyes shadowed.
“He is right though,” he muttered. “Since when does Father allow intervention when it concerns the half-bloods?” His gaze shifted to Athena. “What do we do if he declines?”
That question altered the room.
Artemis straightened, Hermes stopped pacing, even Ares’s fury cooled into something more deliberate.
Athena did not raise her voice when she answered, she simply lifted her chin.
“Then we act.”
It wasn’t defiance or anger. It was calculation, the same kind she had used in wars long before mortals learned to record them. The same tone she had used before...that event.
Apollo studied her carefully. He recognized it. He had heard that voice before.
There was no hesitation in her posture now, no trace of the weakness that had forced her wings free moments ago. She stood tall, composed, as if the pain had merely refined her resolve.
“We won’t back down. Not at all.”
Ares’ grip tightened around his spear, not in fury this time, but in agreement.
The central flame in the chamber burned brighter, reacting not to magic, but to unity. Something had solidified between them.
This was no longer about persuading Zeus gently. It was about preparing for the possibility that he would refuse.
Hermes exhaled slowly, tension flickering across his features. Dionysus looked between them all, unusually quiet. Artemis’ hand, still resting lightly against Athena’s arm, pressed just a little firmer.
Athena did not look at any of them. She was already thinking three steps ahead.
If Zeus declined, If the Fates refused, If destiny itself resisted.
Then Olympus would face something it had not in centuries.
Rebellion.
And she would stand at it’s center.
“This is not our home,” Luke told the children that night, finally managing to settle them a bit before the bed.
The chamber was quiet now. The sea hummed softly beyond the walls, light shifting faintly across the ceiling like slow moving shadows. Percy and Annabeth sat close together on the edge of the large bed, insisted that they stay together, their shoulders touching without them noticing.
They looked at him with their wide eyes, innocence in them. Luke felt a sting, but he needed to make sure they remember.
“It is not,” Annabeth whispered, “we know.”
She said it bravely, but her fingers were twisting the edge of the blanket. Percy leaned slightly into her side, holding her small hands.
Percy nodded. “I… I mean, they are nice.”
He hesitated before saying it, like he was unsure if he was allowed to feel that.
“And they mentioned my mommy,” Annabeth added quickly, as if that solved everything. “Maybe she can come here to get us.” Her grey eyes shined with stubborn hope. A few pale feathers still clung loosely near her shoulders.
Luke’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think that is possible.”
Percy frowned at that immediately. “Why?”
Luke exhaled slowly. “Because… this isn’t our Olympus. These aren’t our gods.”
Percy blinked. “But Triton said he knows my dad, he said I look like him.”
“That doesn’t mean he does,” Luke replied gently.
Annabeth tilted her head in confusion.
“So… are there two different gods now? Do we have 2 moms and dads?” Percy asked after a pause.
Luke froze.
“No. It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?” Annabeth pressed, small brows furrowing in frustration. “If she’s my mommy, then she’s my mommy.”
“She is,” Luke said quickly. “Just… not this version.”
Percy’s face scrunched in confusion.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know,” Luke admitted quietly. "I am as lost as you, but I remember enough to know we can't stay ,"
Annabeth looked down at her hands.
“There is nothing we can do,” she muttered. “We can’t run. We can’t go back. We can just wait.”
Her voice was smaller now.
Percy rubbed his eye, his dark curls getting more messy. He leaned closer to her again.
“Maybe… maybe they can help us,” he said softly. “They’re powerful.”
“They are powerful, it can happen,” Annabeth agreed, but there was hesitation now.
Luke shook his head slightly.
“Not yet. They believe that we are miracles sent by the Fates. We don’t know how they would react if they learn about the truth.”
Percy went quiet at that.
“You mean that, we have to go home?” he asked after a moment.
Luke swallowed.
“That we don’t belong here.”
Percy’s fingers tightened on the blanket.
“Do they looking for us?” he asked quietly.
Luke looked at him.
“I don’t know, maybe their memories lost or something, like how ours is a bit...fuzzy,” Luke said carefully.
Percy’s eyes widened.
“That’s not fair,” Annabeth said immediately. “Mom would remember me.”
“We don’t know this,” Luke replied softly. “And here, they can’t have children.”
Percy blinked again.
“So they’re sad?”
Luke hadn’t expected that.
Annabeth’s expression shifted.
“If they’re sad…” she said slowly, thinking, “maybe that’s why we’re here.”
Luke stared at her.
She was confused, but she understood sadness.
“As we wait, we can see if we can trust,” Annabeth said after a moment, lifting her chin a little.
Luke nodded slowly.
“Yes. Yes, that can happen.”
Percy yawned suddenly, small and tired.
“Do you remember our cabins?” he asked drowsily.
Luke hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What did my cabin look like?”
Luke opened his mouth.
Annabeth frowned. “I think… it had shells.”
“No,” Percy said softly. “It had blue.”
Luke felt something tighten in his chest.
Their memories weren’t gone. They were fading at the edges.
“Get some sleep,” Luke said gently.
Annabeth lay down first. Percy curled beside her instinctively. After a second of hesitation, Annabeth reached for Luke’s sleeve.
Luke didn’t pull away.
“This is not our home,” he repeated quietly.
“We would be alright,” Annabeth whispered. “We would go home,” She drifted off quick.
Luke forced a smile before allowing himself to rest, trusting to his sister more than anything.
Olympus, Where the Curse Lived
“Are you sure, my daughter? Three more children, you say?”
Zeus sat upon his throne carved from storm-veined marble, the gold of Olympus woven into its edges like frozen lightning. His long white beard fell over his chest in waves and his blue eyes did not merely shine, there were lighting in his eyes.
The air in the throne room shimmered faintly with divine presence. Columns rose impossibly high, their surfaces etched with living constellations that shifted slowly across the stone.
“Yes, Father,” Athena said, her expression bright. “Triton sent word. I trust him. And my mother gathered the children.”
At the mention of Metis, Hera’s lips thinned. Her fingers rested elegantly on the arm of her throne, but her knuckles had gone pale. She said nothing, she couldn’t. Not when the joy was this present in the room.
Near Hestia’s fire, two small figures ran in wide circles, their laughter echoing.
Young Will Solace darted forward with enthusiasm, golden hair flashing like captured sunlight. Young Nico di Angelo chased him with fierce determination, dark curls bouncing as he lunged and missed, only to tumble onto the polished floor and burst into laughter.
The fire did not burn them. It just bent gently around them as if it knew.
Hestia watched with a soft smile, her flame rising slightly higher whenever they passed close, casting warm halos around their small forms.
Several gods leaned forward without realizing it, their eyes bright, fondness on their smile.
Happiness looked like this, small hands, careless joy. Something they didn't have for centuries.
“If that is the case,” Zeus’s voice rolled through the chamber, loud, “Go, my daughter. Bring them home.”
The words settled like a decree written into the air itself. The constellations carved into the pillars brightened faintly. Even the winds circling Olympus slowed.
Athena bowed deeply. Her excitement evident, as her wings wiggled with energy, she did not bother to hide her big smile. Light gathered around her form. Her figure dissolved into gold and white, disappearing from the sight.
The wind left in her wake stirred Hestia’s fire higher. Nico and Will paused mid run, both turning toward the fading light, sensing something without understanding it.
Zeus remained seated. But his gaze lingered on the empty space where Athena had stood.
Olympus had not felt this in centuries.
Hope had returned.
And this time, it was alive.