Coming of Age Ch. 2 (Percy Jackson) (Patreon)

A/N: Yooo, welcome to part 2 of my new PJO fic. Now with a name, and also with a plot point shamelessly taken from your guys' feedback on the last chapter!

-x-X-x-

When they step out of the infirmary, Percy isn’t sure what he’s expecting to see based on what he’s been told so far. The inside of the infirmary felt like some sort of Summer Camp Log Cabin aesthetic, and Annabeth HAD told him he was in a place called Camp Half-Blood.

Thus, it stand to reason that he would step out into a Summer Camp of some sort. But that couldn’t be further from the case. Not unless one were to describe this place as the most extra Summer Camp of all times. They WERE in the woods after all… but the buildings themselves were not the uniform log cabin structures that Percy had half-expected.

Instead, each building in the ‘Camp’ has its own unique architecture. Some are so painfully Ancient Greece it’s not even funny, but others are so strangely out of place in other ways, like a red brick cabin, or a Victorian cabin, or a Wild West saloon cabin. There’s even a cabin that’s completely gold, with a sun motif protruding from its top.

Percy’s surprise must be obvious on his slack jawed face, because Annabeth doesn’t hesitate to loop her arm in his and all but pull him along.

“Each cabin is dedicated to honoring a different Olympian God. That’s why they’re all a little different. Wouldn’t do for the Gods and Goddesses to feel slighted, now would it?”

Percy slowly nods at that. That was a fair point, yeah. His eyes catch on some of the other people moving around. Everyone looks to be of an age where going to Summer Camp was a bit awkward, to be honest. They’re all just as old as he is at a first glance, with several of the girls stopping to stare at him for a moment. One even does a double take, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

However, Annabeth hanging off his arm seems to keep anyone from approaching, even as she purposefully guides him somewhere deep in the camp. Ostensibly to meet with this Director she’d mentioned. Percy isn’t sure what to think about all of this, but he’s definitely starting to feel his nerves creeping up on him. The events of the past couple days had not been fun, and as much as Annabeth’s good morning handjob had… calmed him and distracted him, they weren’t fooling around anymore.

“Percy!”

Luckily, before he can be alone with his thoughts for quite too long, a familiar voice calls out to him. Looking ahead, Percy sees what looks like a cozy farmhouse, complete with a second floor and a covered porch. On that porch stands Percy’s only friend in the whole wide world… Grover.

A feeling of relief rushes through Percy as he pulls free of Annabeth’s clutches and races forward. Grover meets him halfway, and the two embrace. Sure, Grover’s goat half is more than a little odd, but Percy can deal with it. He’s just happy to see Grover is okay with his own two eyes, regardless of Annabeth’s assurances.

Of course, when they pull apart Grover still has a bit of guilt on his face.

“Look Percy, I’m sorry for the deception. I couldn’t get into it before because of everything that was happening, but I never wanted to lie to you about who I really was.”

Percy shrugs, giving Grover a crooked sort of smile.

“S’alright G-man. Just tell me this… was the friendship part fake?”

Grover’s reaction, a wide-eyed look and a rapid shaking of his head, is honestly all Percy needs.

“N-No, of course not-oof!”

Grabbing the Satyr in another hug, Percy lifts Grover off the ground for a moment before setting him down again with a laugh. That swimmer’s body of his was good for something at least.

“Then don’t worry about it. You did your best… and I appreciate you having my back.”

Grover looks honestly touched for the moment that it takes Annabeth to finally reach the porch and interject.

“The Director is waiting inside, I assume.”

Blinking, Grover nods absently.

“Oh yeah, she and Chiron are just inside. They’ve been waiting for Percy to wake up.”

“Good.”

That curt response is all the Satyr gets from Annabeth before she grabs Percy by the hand and tugs him into the farmhouse in front of them. Percy and Grover exchange a slightly bewildered look before Grover follows after them.

Inside, the place looks… quite nice. Cozy, even. A sense of warmth fills Percy’s body, suffusing his very bones with this almost satisfied feeling. It’s like coming home, really.

But of course, this isn’t home. And the occupants inside aren’t exactly familiar to him. Though, the woman, who looks to him with startling warmth in her glowing eyes, feels familiar despite them never having met before. It takes him a second to realize that sense of home is coming from her, not the room itself.

Meanwhile, the man beside her… is no man at all. Percy’s eyes widen a little bit at seeing the upper body of one of his teachers, Mr. Brunner, sat upon the lower body of a horse. It appears that Mr. Brunner is a centaur. Though, given Grover turned out to be half-goat, that’s not THAT strange. Still a bit of a shock though.

“Percy Jackson. It’s a pleasure to meet you… at long last.”

Percy’s eyes slide off of Mr. Brunner’s centaur body and over to the golden eyed woman sitting near the fire. She’s beautiful in an understated way, and so very inviting and warm in both appearance and tone. Her smile is honest and her entire presence just… it helps in ways Percy hadn’t even known he needed help in.

As the invisible weight on his shoulders finally begins to ease up, Percy nevertheless notes that the something in the woman’s countenance does seem a little strained. But he doesn’t know enough to possibly say for sure one way or the other, and he wasn’t about to call her out on it.

“I am the Goddess Hestia of Home and Hearth. And I am the Director of Camp Half-Blood. This, as you may not already know, is Chiron. He is the Assistant Director here at Camp Half-Blood, in charge of activities and the like.”

Wait, wasn’t Chiron the famous trainer of a bunch of Greek Heroes from mythology? Percy can’t help but be a little taken aback by the juxtaposition of a legend standing here as the Assistant Director of a Camp. Then again, the Director of the Camp was literally a Goddess, wasn’t she? That was… a little hard for him to wrap his head around.

While Percy is still reeling from this new information, the now named Chiron steps forward, giving a nod of his head.

“A pleasure to finally meet you properly, Percy. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances, but you’ve acquitted yourself well in all the battles you’ve been forced to fight so far.”

The mention of battle brings Percy back to the past couple of days. First was Mrs. Dodds at the museum. It was only thanks to Chiron himself in the guise of Mr. Brunner that Percy even survived. Mrs. Dodds had turned into a monster and forced him to run her through with that pen-sword Chiron had tossed him.

However, that battle is barely a passing recollection in Percy’s mind, which is suddenly racing as he gets to the NEXT battle. The Minotaur… his mom…

Only in that moment does Percy realize just how badly he’d been repressing those events. He’d thought of them completely clinically until this point. But being in Hestia’s presence, feeling that warmth of home… it felt good, don’t get him wrong, but it also reminded him that his mom was gone. And he could never go home again.

It’s a little embarrassing, but Percy damn near breaks down right there in the living room of the Goddess Hestia’s home. Grover has to catch him, his friend suddenly by his side and keeping him from outright collapsing to his knees in despair.

“M-My mom… she… the Minotaur got her…”

The expressions of concern on the faces of Hestia and Chiron turn towards understanding and they exchange a glance. Meanwhile, Percy is furiously wiping the involuntary tears from his eyes as they fall regardless of how hard he tries to stop them. He doesn’t want to be seen as some sort of crybaby or anything like that, especially not in front of Annabeth… and yet, it hurts. Losing his mom hurts.

He almost wishes he could go back to having that weight on his shoulders, because it was letting him ignore how painful losing the only true family he had felt. The Goddess Hestia’s presence was as much a curse as it was a boon in this moment.

“If it helps, Percy…”

Blinking, Percy looks to Chiron again, the Centaur speaking up with a grimace.

“… I can at least tell you that the Minotaur did not kill your mother.”

Wait, what? Percy straightens up at that, his eyes widening. Chiron’s grimace intensifies as he continues on.

“The way in which your mother’s disappearance was described to us by Grover… is not the way in which the Minotaur tends to dispatch its victims. More than likely, your mother was spirited way somewhere else. And if the Minotaur was not sent to outright kill her… then it is likely she is alive and well elsewhere.”

That was… Percy’s entire body shudders as he lets out a gasping breath and nods.

“I-I see… t-thank you, um… sir.”

Chiron gives him a somewhat fatherly smile and a nod. Meanwhile, Hestia, while still seated, suddenly pulls his attention in some way. Not just his, but the attention of everyone in the room.

“I cannot say where your mother is, Percy. But I can say with some certainty that she would want you to be safe above all else. Here at Camp Half-Blood, you are safe. You are among your own kind, that of demigods. So long as you stay within the Camp’s boundaries, I guarantee your health.”

That was… nice. Some small part of him wanted to go hunting for his mom right away, but the far greater whole that was Percy Jackson admitted he was in no way ready for such a thing just yet. Hell, he didn’t even know where to start, not really. So for now, he bows his head in gratitude towards Hestia.

“Thank you, um… Goddess.”

He didn’t really know how to address her. Hestia just smiles and shakes her head, her lashes fluttering for a moment in a somewhat strange fashion.

“Please, Percy… call me Hestia. We can talk more later on. For now, Annabeth will show you to your lodgings in the Hermes Cabin.”

At that, Percy can’t help but furrow his brow.

“Hermes? Wait… we’re all demigods, right? Here in Camp Half-Blood?”

He’s still wrapping his head around that particular revelation, but he remembers at least that much from Annabeth’s explanations. Hestia and Chiron exchange another glance, before Hestia slowly nods.

“… So my dad was Hermes?”

Even as the words leave his lips, Percy knows they’re wrong. In fact… it’s a little odd, but he feels like he knows exactly who his true father is already. Isn’t it incredibly obvious? Hestia just shakes her head, however.

“You must be claimed by your godly parent before you can take up residence in their cabin, young Percy. Until that time, the Hermes Cabin is where all unclaimed demigods stay.”

Oh. That sort of made sense, he supposed. So it probably was obvious to everyone that he was the son of Poseidon, and not just himself. Nodding slowly, Percy plasters a smile on his face before turning to Annabeth.

“Alright then. Lead the way!”

She does so, with him and Grover heading out behind her. That sense of warmth lingers even as he leaves Hestia’s presence, bolstering Percy and making him stand tall. Somehow… he knew he was going to like it here.

-x-X-x-

“Hestia? Is something the matter? Normally you would not have remained seated. But… it was almost like you were having to hold yourself back.”

Still sat in her chair by the hearth, Hestia bites her lower lip, slowly calming the rapidly beating heart in her chest down to something approaching a normal pace. Then and only then does she turn her golden eyes towards Chiron and let out a sigh.

“Percy Jackson is more than we could have guessed, I’m afraid.”

Chiron’s brow raises at that. They both know, of course, who’s son Percy truly is. Hestia because she’s Hestia, and Chiron because the young man’s father had given him Riptide to give to Percy in the first place. Of course, the first time had been on loan. Percy still needed to prove himself worthy to be allowed to have Riptide on a more permanent basis.

That said…

“MORE than we could have guessed? Goddess, what does that even mean?”

It was bad enough that Percy’s parentage was in direct defiance of the Big Three’s Oath to father no more children. But more than that?

Hestia shudders a bit, before answering.

“It’s not his fault, of course. Percy… is a reincarnated soul. And not just any reincarnated soul, either.”

Chiron’s brow furrows, as he tries to figure out who could possibly provoke such a reaction in Hestia. He can’t think of anyone, but luckily Hestia is happy to spell it out for him once she finishes collecting her thoughts.

“Percy Jackson is the reincarnation of Adonis himself. The man who’s very presence made even Goddesses swoon.”

Chiron blinks at that. Then he blinks again, as understanding truly begins to hit him.

“Oh. Oh… that’s, uh… not good? But then… he doesn’t SEEM like the most handsome man in the world.”

Hestia’s answering smile is a small, fragile thing as her fingers knead at her dress down in her lap.

“He has come of age. In the next few weeks, I imagine he will grow into his looks, just as Adonis did. But even as he is now, there is a presence to him. One that the female demigods of Camp Half-Blood will not be able to ignore.”

Chiron blanches at that, true understanding finally hitting him. They were technically set up as a Summer Camp… but all of their residents were of university age. That meant there were… plenty of dalliances already. You couldn’t stop young people from fucking, it was an exercise in futility. That said, if Percy truly was Adonis Reborn… he was going to end up taking the Camp by storm. Hell, he already had the intellectual and focused Annabeth zeroed in on him, didn’t he?

“That’s not even the worst of it. I am… obligated to inform the rest of the Pantheon of this development. Aphrodite and Persephone would be bad enough, but the other Goddesses, Hera included, have long been jealous of their monopolization of the original Adonis.”

As Chiron’s eyes go even wider, his mouth opens for a moment… before he notices the way Hestia worded her statement.

“… Will you follow that obligation, Hestia? Will you inform the Pantheon of Percy’s reincarnated nature?”

In truth, Hestia’s hesitation to answer is all the answer needed.

-x-X-x-

A/N: Poor Hestia is feeling a stirring in her loins she's not allowed to act upon fufufu.

Hm, what ARE the rules for Virgin Goddesses in PJO anyways?