Chapter 8: Son of Poseidon

If you’d told Percy that he would not only be claimed by his divine father so soon, but also experience the worst second-hand embarrassment of his life as a result. It’s not even his fault, and yet he can’t help but groan as he slaps his hand across his face and shoots Hestia an apologetic look. “Goddess, I’m so, so sorry…” Blinking, Hestia looks at him and then sighs again, offering him a soft, warm smile. “Oh Percy, you have nothing to apologize for my dear. Your father’s decisions are his own and you cannot be held accountable for circumstances outside of your control.” Percy still hangs his head sheepishly. Sure, he might not know Poseidon on a personal level whatsoever, but the second-hand embarrassment was really that strong. He’d literally just had a sexual encounter with the man’s older sister, and Poseidon just had to what… BRAG about it? Honestly, it seemed his father was a truly ridiculous being. Percy wasn’t nearly so interested in meeting him now, if he was being truthful. “Regardless… well met, Son of Poseidon. There is still the other matter, however. I can confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt that no God or Goddess is looking at us now. My… attention grew lax for a moment there admittedly, but this IS my Hearth, and no spy nor vagabond may enter it without my permission. We have absolute privacy, Percy. So I ask you again… do you wish to know who your previous Reincarnation was?” Oh man, in all of this mess, Percy had almost forgotten about that. Not only was he a confirmed Son of Poseidon, not only was his dad a stinking pervert doing the equivalent of two thumbs up and “that’s my boy!”, but also… he was a Reincarnation. Swallowing thickly, Percy looks down into his hands for a moment, thinking long and hard. But in the end… he knows what his heart says, even if it feels strange. “… Would you think less of me if I said no, Goddess?” Hestia blinks, looking a little surprised as Percy looks up to meet her eyes. Shrugging somewhat helplessly, he scratches the back of his head. “It’s just… I’d rather forge my own path forward, I suppose. I want to be me, not the Reincarnation of someone else. I don’t really care who I was before this life. All I care about is who I am now and who I will be going forward. Is that weird? Is that dumb?” He’s rather anxious about his feelings of insecurity… but then Hestia sits down beside him again, placing a hand on his shoulder while offering him a wider smile, just as warm. “It’s not weird at all Percy, nor is it dumb. Your life is your own, and to want to be everything you can be without being swallowed in the shadow of your past life is perfectly natural. I won’t tell you if you don’t want to know… but I do feel I must warn you all the same.” Here, Hestia’s smile drops and she looks rather dour as she frowns most severely. “… As you can likely guess from the fact that I recognized you immediately, your Reincarnation was not unknown to the Gods and Goddesses of Mount Olympus. There are those among my kin, among my brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews… who will desire you not for you, but for your Reincarnation. I have not told them about you just yet… but it’s likely only a matter of time before they learn.” Percy’s eyes widen at that, and he glances towards the spot where Poseidon’s Trident had floated in the air, signaling his status as the Ocean God’s son. Hestia follows his gaze and squeezes his shoulder once more, shaking her head. “No, he would not know Percy. He might have heard me talking about your Reincarnated Status, but unless you were stood right in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to tell who you once were. None of them can properly inspect you either, so long as you are within the bounds of Camp Half-Blood and under my protection. They can observe and my kin often do, but they cannot truly SEE.” Well, that was relieving he supposed. Swallowing thickly, Percy nods to Hestia and gives her a wan smile of his own. “I appreciate the warning, Goddess. Thank you for looking out for me.” There’s a moment where Hestia continues to smile warmly… and then the true reality of the moment hits them. The Goddess of the Hearth is still naked and covered in his seed after all, and while he’d ignored that in the heat of the moment… it doesn’t make it any less true. Percy’s eyes dip down, following a trail of his cum as it drizzled its way down her breasts. Hestia, seeing where he’s looking, blushes somewhat as if finally realizing just what they’ve done together. “A-Ahem… it’s getting rather late now, Percy… I think you should probably get back to your cabin. Do you know which one is the Poseidon Cabin? You can stay there tonight, or you can go to your designated spot at the Hermes Cabin and then move in in the morning…” For a moment, he’s tempted to suggest something uncouth. Like maybe he could help her clean up first in a quick bath. Or maybe he could even stay here for the night… But no. Percy feels like he’s already pushed his luck enough, and with his godly father’s embarrassing actions, he’s certainly not feeling confident to try and go any further. Giving Hestia one last smile and doing his best to keep his eyes above her neckline, Percy nods and gets to his feet. “I do know which one is the Poseidon Cabin, Goddess. Thank you… and I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe.” “… Yes, tomorrow. Good night, Percy.” “Good night, Goddess.” -x-X-x- In the end, he goes to the Hermes Cabin first, sees the spot designated for him on the floor… and ultimately gathers his things and heads over to the Poseidon Cabin. Nobody tries to stop him, funnily enough. Not because word travels that fast, or at least Percy doesn’t think that’s it, but because it’s already pretty late by the time he gets back from the Big House and almost everyone is in bed. Poseidon’s Cabin isn’t bad, by any means. With all the windows facing out towards the sea that Camp Half-Blood is located on the coast of, it even feels rather comfortable in a way. But it is quite dusty, given the fact that no one has apparently lived in it in decades. Not so dusty that Percy doesn’t think it hasn’t been CLEANED in decades, but dusty enough that it probably only gets cleaned once a month at most. That said, he’ll take a little dust over how cramped the conditions in Hermes’ Cabin looked any day truth be told. That place was filled from top to bottom with people, and the vast majority of the demigods who resided there didn’t even get a bed, but instead had to do with a sleeping bag on the floor. In comparison, his new cabin had six empty bunk beds and walls that glowed like something straight out of an underwater coral reef. Swiping away as much dust from one of the beds as he could and tossing his sleeping bag down on the unadorned mattress, Percy all but collapses into the thing, asleep in moments. By the next morning however… it’s clear that word HAS finally reached everyone. He finds himself wandering over to the Dining Pavilion despite not knowing what it was at first, drawn by the scent of home-cooked breakfast food. Pancakes, eggs, bacon… all of the good stuff. Of course, Percy’s enjoyment of said ‘good stuff’ is slightly tempered by all the looks he’s getting. Immediately, he can tell that somehow, someone knew he hadn’t stayed in the Hermes Cabin last night. More than that, they maybe even knew where he HAD stayed. Just as many people were looking at Hestia as they were at him, as though they were just waiting for the Camp Director to either punish him for sleeping in a cabin despite being unclaimed… or announce that he HAD been claimed. As Percy gets his food, he also glances to Hestia, raising an eyebrow. The Goddess has the good grace to blush at least, before rising to her feet. “Campers. There is an announcement to make. Last night, before my very eyes… Percy Jackson was claimed by his divine father. As a Son of Poseidon, he is the first to occupy Poseidon’s Cabin in many, many years.” With that, the Goddess of the Hearth sits back down, even as the Dining Pavilion outright explodes in whispers and murmurs. Everyone is talking to everyone else while shooting him wide-eyed, disbelieving looks. Of course, Annabeth in particular doesn’t look anymore surprised that he turned out to be a Son of Poseidon than he did… but she does look surprised that he got claimed so quickly. She also looks a little worried. Unfortunately, Percy can’t go and sit with her. The Pavilion is set up so that everyone sits at their own God’s Table. And so Percy, with his plate piled high with breakfast food, makes his way over to the Poseidon Table, sitting down all alone. It’s more than a little awkward, but after the day he’d had yesterday… it’s safe to say he’s particularly ravenous, even if he’d gotten dinner the night before. Digging in, Percy tries to focus on his food, rather than all of the looks he’s getting and the conversations that are clearly being had about him. He knows full well that his existence breaks some sort of agreement that Poseidon had with Zeus and Hades. There’s no helping that though. It was like Hestia had said, he couldn’t be blamed for circumstances outside of his control. Not that he thought that would stop anyone from blaming him, but at the very least, he refused to beat himself up about it. As if summoned by his thoughts of beating someone up, a shadow suddenly falls over him and Percy looks up to see Clarisse standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. She’s technically not sitting at his table, he supposed… so she’s not breaking any rules, is she? “Poseidon’s get, huh? I guess I should be lucky that you didn’t blast me and my sisters with toilet water yesterday.” Percy blinks for a second, feeling a strange sensation pass over him at her words. Then, he realizes what’s happening. Clarisse La Rue, in her own gruff way… is actually trying to make peace with him. She’s trying to find some sort of common ground. Leaning back away from the table for a moment, Percy chuckles and shakes his head. “I suppose you’re lucky I didn’t have to.” A small shadow crosses the Daughter of Ares’ face at that as she’s reminded of her and her sisters’ complete inability to get him off. It’s clearly a point of soreness for her. And yet, she doesn’t get angry. Quirking up one corner of her mouth, Clarisse just shakes her head. “You’re certainly something, Jackson. Which is why I want you on my team for Capture the Flag this Friday. Dunno if anyone’s told you about that yet, but it’s kind of a big deal.” Clarisse isn’t exactly being quiet… and the Athena Table isn’t that far from the Poseidon Table, as it so happens. Percy meets Annabeth’s eyes as the blonde jerks in place at hearing Clarisse’s offer, looking like she wants to get up and march on over right then and there. Sliding his gaze back to Clarisse, he wonders if the Daughter of Ares knows he already agreed to be on Annabeth’s team. Even if she did, he’s confident that she’d still be trying this. She’s that kind of person. “Annabeth told me all about it. When I agreed to be on her team this Friday.” The slight widening of Clarisse’s eyes is evidence enough that she DIDN’T know… but it doesn’t really matter. She’s not backing down so easily, not now that he’s been claimed it would seem. Scoffing, she crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. “Of course you were going to be on her team before. She already got Luke and the Hermes Cabin on her side. And Cabins don’t tend to split, it can cause too much bad blood. You had to say yes, so long as you were unclaimed.” Stepping forward, Clarisse plants her hands on the Poseidon Table, leaning in as she stares Percy down. “But now that you’re claimed… now that you’re a Son of Poseidon, all bets are off. You can do whatever the fuck you want. So what do you say, Jackson? Want to join the winning side?” She’s certainly confident, Percy will give her that. But… no. He doesn’t even consider if truth be told. He’s not the kind of guy who willingly betrays his friends. And he and Annabeth are at LEAST friends, if not more than that. He’d made her a promise and he fully intended to keep it. That didn’t mean he needed to fully burn all of his bridges with Clarisse though. Sure, the woman was a bully… but she was a bully who recognized his worth. Else she wouldn’t be over here, trying to make a play for him. “Sorry Clarisse, but I made a promise to Annabeth and I don’t go back on my word. Maybe next Friday you can properly sway me to your side, or whoever is in charge can do so. I wouldn’t mind eventually playing on your team one of these weeks. But for now… my loyalty is to Annabeth.” From the way Clarisse’s jaw clenches, he can tell she doesn’t like hearing that. At the same time, Percy thinks he’s probably navigated the delicate situation pretty well, because she also has this growing respect in her eyes as she pulls back and crosses her arms over her chest again. “… Fine. I can respect that. A wager then. Winner gets you next time.” Percy raises an eyebrow at that and shakes his head. “That sounds like a wager you should be making with Annabeth, Clarisse. But even then, I would have to agree… and it doesn’t sound like there’s anything in it for me, really.” Clarisse growls but is forced to admit he’s right given the way she rocks back on her heels for a moment, mulling it over. Finally, she nods. “Okay. Wager between us. Whoever is on the winning side gets to order around the other for the next week, with the loser having to be on the winner’s team the next Friday. It’s a good deal. You’re only a one man cabin, but if you somehow win… you get all of Ares Cabin behind you next week.” Now that was an interesting offer. One Percy wondered if Clarisse could get away with making, since she was right, it did involve all of Ares Cabin as well. Somehow, he got the impression that she could maybe force the others into line for at least a week. But at the same time, did he want to risk Annabeth’s team losing and ending up as Clarisse’s chew toy for the next week? He was only one man after all, and he’d never even played Capture the Flag before. He supposed the question he needed to answer before he could answer Clarisse was… just how confident was he feeling?