Chapter Text
Dinner is an… interesting affair.
Of course, Annabeth was here, so Piper can’t really bring herself to complain that much, because at least she wasn’t at immediate threat from her very blood.
But still. Under the heavy gazes of the gods, sparse as they were in this world, she feels vaguely like a bug under a microscope.
The ambrosia on her tongue tastes better than usual, if that’s even possible, melting into a luxurious paste and being absorbed into her system like it’s been starved all her life.
Her blood sings.
(An itching, just underneath her skin; the flutter of feathers.)
They eat in silence, not daring to utter a word around these foreign gods who held them far too close for any feasible comfort.
Indeed, her mother’s hand rests against her shoulder, casually possessive in the most Aphrodite way imaginable. Athena’s watchful eyes refuse to be pried away from her daughter, as if she is attempting to memorise every cell, whilst Hephaestus and Ares’ flames curl warmly around their children with pride and protectiveness.
All in all, the demigods are fucked.
There is no way they’re getting out.
And unfortunately, unexpectedly, Piper can’t seem to care all that much.
Perhaps it’s because of that hand on her shoulder and the warmth emanating from it, or perhaps it’s just the presence of Aphrodite herself.
Perhaps it’s because for the first time ever, her mother is here with no ulterior motives.
(A sickly-sweet fragrance curls around her, putting her mind under a haze of comfort.)
Or at least, no ulterior motives Piper knows of yet.
Zeus sits at the head of the table, looking regal and kingly; a far cry from the tired, sleazy businessman she’d seen post-quests. He catches her eye and smiles, sky blue, achingly Jason-like eyes, lighting with mirth and what seems like genuine affection.
Hermes coughs lightly, drawing attention to himself. “I am unsure if this is the right moment to bring this to light, father, but the children have told us of where they hail from, and they’ve said it’s a…parallel universe, somehow. One where the curse doesn’t burden us, where demigods are plentiful and Olympus full of the divine.”
The king of the gods arches a brow, deep in thought. “A parallel universe? Then they were granted to us by the fates, there’s no other reason they would have been brought here.”
The gods all nod like this makes perfect sense.
“If they were granted to us, then they are ours. Those other gods don’t have any claims on them anymore.” Athena states with a tone of finality, eyes never once leaving Annabeth.
“I beg to differ.” A new- but maybe not so new- voice echoes across the dining room; the gods all turn to the source.
A devilish smirk, glowing white eyes and a delivery boy’s cap on his head.
Hermes. Their Hermes.
He zeroes in on Piper almost immediately, that grin growing sharp with humour and thinly veiled relief as he zips closer to her.
Aphrodite pulls her into her arms protectively, glaring daggers at the other God.
“Who are you?” She demands; the table growing alight with divine possessiveness. “What are you doing here?”
Hermes lets out a mangled hiss, moving backwards with his hands up placatingly. “Hermes. The Hermes of their world.” His eyes find the demigods imploringly.
Zeus looks to Annabeth, the closest demigod to him, as if asking for confirmation. Piper can literally feel the pride swelling up in her girlfriend at that, even as she tries not to let it show.
Annabeth nods.
The king of gods furrows his brow, directing his heavy gaze on the visiting Hermes.
“And what is your purpose for intruding on our dinner?” Zeus’s voice is calm, deceptively so; lightning sparks in his words just beneath a veil of benevolence.
“Well. I’m here to bring them back, naturally.” Hermes says, voice slightly pitching up near the end from the sheer weight of the glares on him.
He looks to the demigods, as if telling them to speak up.
When none do, his eyes narrow dangerously.
The snakes encircling Piper’s wrist tighten uncomfortably, constricting. She squirms uncomfortably in her seat.
Immediately, her mother notices, frowning. She grabs her daughter’s wrist and brings it up to her eyes, scrutinising.
The snakes seem to crumple under her glare, loosening their grip on Piper Immediately.
The goddess looks to her daughter for an explanation, head slightly tilted in invitation; Piper’s mouth is dry, but she clears her throat and answers the unasked question.
“Uh. I’m Lord Hermes’s Champion.”
Aphrodite looks downright murderous at the confirmation.
“How dare you?” She speaks quietly, but her words seem to shake the room. “How dare you lay claim to what is mine?”
Her hand tightens around her daughter’s wrist, looking in disgust at her cousin’s symbol. She hesitates for just a second before plunging a hand deep into the arm.
Piper takes in a shuddering breath as her mother breaches her skin, because it doesn’t hurt, somehow. It feels icy cold, and deeply, deeply wrong, but the expected pain she braced herself for never comes.
Her mother’s hand rips back out of her arm, now clutching the writhing snakes that had been embedded under her skin.
Her face wears disgust with elegance as she throws them to the ground at Hermes’s feet.
“There. You have no claim on her anymore. Leave.” She speaks resolutely, as if the conversation was already over, voice calm but authoritative.
Hermes’s eyes widen, fear grasping at him, and isn’t that curious? To see a God in the clutches of such a human emotion.
He looks at the snakes, crouching down to let them absorb back into his form with a sombre expression. His eyes still look to the demigods, sitting silently and avoiding his gaze, and a wry smile forms across his lips.
“I see. Those back home will not be pleased to hear this, however.” Hermes warns, “Farewell, children.” He pauses for a second, eyes lingering on the daughter of Aphrodite. “Piper.” He tilts his head in acknowledgement, before disappearing in a flash of light.
The gods all look more murderous than before, somehow, and the threat Hermes left with certainly didn’t help.
Piper looks at her arm, the expanse of her skin unmarked for the first time in months.
Her mother tracks her gaze and silently takes her hand; gentle in all the ways she wasn’t when Hermes was witness.
A dove breaks from Aphrodite’s form and swoops into the air above Piper, circling her head almost affectionately before diving into her arm and melding with the flesh.
The daughter of Aphrodite views the new mark of devotion on her arm.
Her back itches, bones stretching and feathers tickling.
Subconsciously, she knows that her life will never be the same again.
But now, looking around her at the gods and goddesses who chose to keep them by her side, at her beloved, at her dearest friends, she can’t seem to care.