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panda-noosh · 6 years

Text

Hiraeth {part two} {demigod!Lance x reader}

Words: 7k

Summary: Your life changed forever that day in the forest. The day the voices got too much. The day that single word brought you to what felt like the very brink of death - that was until Lance McClain, son of Poseidon, arrived to take you home.

Genre: percyjackson!au - angst

Notes: part 1 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9 - epilogue -yeehaw, the drama has started.

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Hiraeth - (n) a homesickness for a place you can’t return to, or that never was.

Chapter 2

Lance stayed by your side when the two of you were finally called for dinner by a most uncertain sounding camper. The girl – Lance later informed you that she was a child of Apollo – had been ordered to merely poke her head inside of the Hades cabin and tell you and Lance that dinner was ready; she had done so, but not before giving you a look that told you she was about to burst into tears simply by stepping foot inside of the cabin.

Lance's jokes died down. He didn't try and make light of the situation, didn't try and take away any of the shock you were feeling as you walked beside him towards the feasting area of the camp. Your hands were trembling, and you plunged them into the pockets of your coat in any attempt to hide them from prying eyes; what would people around you think if they saw how terrified you were right now?

Because that was truly the only word you could think of to describe the feelings coursing through you right now, the only logical explanation for the feeling of pure weakness slamming into you. You had lived your life on the streets, had almost been kidnapped on multiple occasions, had been forced to sleep on the cold brambles of a forest almost everyday for the past few years – but this was by far the most mortified you had ever been.

Lance led you over to the Hades table once the two of you finally reached the feasting hall. Twelve other tables were lined up, filled with chattering people, all of whom paused their conversations to look at you and Lance when you entered.

Lance placed a hand on the small of your back, pushed you through the gawking crowd a little quicker. “Just ignore them. They do this every time I walk in.”

You nodded slowly and allowed Lance to lead you over to an empty table on the far side of the hall. It was a direct contrast to the other tables which were spread out before you; they were packed full, some people even being forced to drag extra chairs over just to fight for a space upon the bench. The table you sat down at, though, held no such privilege, as it was completely empty.

Lance winced as he sat down next to you. “I really shouldn't be sitting here, you know. My table is over there.” He nodded towards another empty table set beside your own.

“You can go and sit over there if you want,” you mumbled. “I don't mind.”

“No. No, it's alright. I like the company.” He nudged your arm gently, but you paid him no attention. “Besides, it gets a little lonely. I'm sure Chiron won't mind if I give our newcomer a bit of a run-down on how meal times work.”

“I'm not really all that hungry.”

Lance frowned. You could feel his worried gaze pouring into the side of your face, could tell he wanted nothing more than to tell you to suck it up, because every single person in this camp had been through the exact same experience you had just been through; being told the deadbeat parents they always believed they would never figure out the identity to was actually an Olympic god.

And it still felt so surreal, even though you had pinched yourself a thousand times just to confirm it wasn't a dream – a nightmare.

Lance didn't say much after that. He simply stood up, went over to the buffet and stacked two plates full of food. He placed one in front of you, sat down, and started eating from his own.

“I scraped a little bit into the sacrifice fire for you,” he told you through a mouthful of rice. “That might entice Hades to come forward a little sooner.”

You raised a brow, head shooting over to look at him. He didn't seem to realise what he had just said, as he continued to stuff rice into his mouth, curiously glancing around at the campers.

“Come forward?” you repeated. “What are you talking about?”

“The claiming,” said Lance, as if it was obvious. He glanced over at you, noticed your confused expression and sighed, setting his fork down and turning his full attention to you now. “A claiming is basically whenever a god finally – well, claims their child. It's a big deal around here, and it's not usually very subtle.”

“Have you had yours?”

He nodded, but seemed to almost wince at the memory. “Mine was awful. Dad must have thought he was being a prankster or something – trying to keep up with the kids, you know? He ended up doing it whenever I was doing my introduction speech to the camp. Nobody knew who I belonged to – I was just the five year old who walked in with bruises, not knowing where he was. Chiron ended up making me introduce myself to everyone, and it was then that good old Poseidon decided to inform him of my parentage – it was traumatic.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What happened?”

“This massive trident thing started glowing above my head,” he explained. “Obviously, everybody else knew what it was but me, and they all started freaking out. 'A child of one of the Big Three!' You could have sworn I'd just spontaneously combusted in front of them all with how panicked they got.”

He scoffed and shook his head, diving back into the rice he was eating with a casual aura glaring off of him – you continued to stare at him, hand trembling. How had he gotten over such a thing? How could he sit beside you now and talk about such a moment with little care in his voice at all? You were certain that if something like that were to happen to you, you would be traumatised forever.

You swallowed thickly and turned back to the plate in front of you – there would be no point in dwelling on it now. No point at all. What was done was done, and you couldn't help who your father was. You would just have to try and push through, just like Lance had been doing all these years.

Dinner continued. Conversation from the other tables was loud and boisterous, but you and Lance were fairly quiet. Every now and then Lance would nudge your elbow and point out something he believed to be humourous, and you would put on a fake little laugh just to make him happy – in reality, all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep, forget this day had even happened. Maybe you would wake up back in the brambles, a headache still splitting through your skull. Maybe this was a dream, and you were just struggling to get out of it.

As dinner drew to a close and the sun slowly started to descend behind the mountains, Chiron stood up from the table that was placed at the front of the hall. You hadn't even noticed him sitting up there until now, though now that he had made himself known, you were unsure how you could have missed him at all. Sitting next to him was a shorter man in a Hawaiian shirt, a greying beard and curly dark hair – he seemed to be scowling up at the centaur before him, taking frequent sips out of the wooden mug he had.

“Half-Bloods!” Chiron suddenly cried, making you jump. The camp immediately went quiet and directed their attention to the centaur. “I hope you all ate plenty, for training will continue tomorrow and you will need all of your energy for next weeks game of Capture the Flag.”

Howls erupted from the Ares table, a boy standing up on the chair and yelling, “We're gonna destroy you!” to nobody in particular.

Lance leaned in and whispered, “The Ares kids get a little bit excited about Capture the Flag.”

You dumbly nodded.

Chiron continued. “Alright Sebastian, settle down, settle down. Although Capture the Flag is a big topic of conversation lately, there is something else I know you are all extremely curious about – our newest camper.”

You clenched your jaw as heads span around to look at you. A few people even went as far as to stand up on their seats in an attempt to get a better look at you.

“This is Y/N L/N, an unclaimed Half-Blood who came upon us today thanks to Lance McClain, son of Poseidon.” Lance grinned, waved as if he was waving to a crowd of fans. “You will all treat her with the utmost respect and I hope you can all find it in your hearts to welcome her with open arms – we all know what it feels like to join Camp Half-Blood for the first time, and it is nothing short of a scary experience.”

“How can you expect us to welcome a child of Hades?” a voice yelled out over the crowd. Immediately a bursting symphony of agreement fled over the hall, enticing an entire conversation that blocked out Chiron's speech.

You wanted to disappear.

You huddled your arms into your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible as the protests continued. Lance placed a gentle hand on your arm before ruining the gentle moment by swinging his head over his shoulder and yelling at a Hephaestus kid to mind his own business.

“Everyone! Everyone!” Chiron barked, slamming his hoof against the wooden ledge he was seated upon. “Y/N is unclaimed as of right now, meaning none of us have a right to claim her to be the child of the Underworld ruler – but if that is the case-” He knew full rightly that was the case. “-then we will continue to treat her with just as much respect as we would treat anybody else. This is not up for debate! You all know better than to judge a person based off of their parents actions!”

“She can raise the dead, Chiron!” someone yelled. “I don't mess with that kind of black magic!”

Your eyes widened. You weren't sure where the panic stemmed from, but it burst within you at a moments notice and there was no catching it. Lance's hand tightened on your arm as the exclamation settled – he had clearly meant to tell you that little nugget of information later on.

You span around on the bench to face him with wide eyes as Chiron continued trying to settle the crowd down.

“Raise the dead?” you hissed.

Lance winced, tried to cover it by awkwardly smiling at you. “Surprise?”

You tugged your arm out of his grip. You felt like water was rising above you, slowly dragging you under, slowly clawing away at your oxygen supply until there was nothing left. You stood up from the bench before you could stop yourself, before you could realise that you were currently standing amongst a group of demigods who could so easily put you down with a simple flick of their wrist.

“Y/N, please-” Lance started, reaching up to grab you.

You stumbled away from him, and the crowd grew quiet, turned to see what you were doing. You didn't care. You looked up at Chiron just the once, dared him to say anything, before you were spinning on your heel and marching away from the dinner hall.

You got as far as the Athena table before your head started to hurt.

It might very well have been the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Blinding, white hot, as if somebody was continuously splashing flames against your forehead. You cried out, gripped your temples tightly in any attempt to ease the pain that was coursing through you, but it was no use. It continued to fight against your grip, forcing you to your knees. Despite the camps previous protestations against you, you were surprised to find a few of them rushing to your aid, calling out for somebody to get a medic.

“Let the Apollo kids through! Let them through!”

But it was Lance who crumbled to your side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugged you into him and started whispering soothing words in your ear; you could hear him. You could hear him, you realised, because there were no voices. It was just pain. Just pure, unfiltered pain and you had no idea where it had come from.

An Apollo kid kneeled down on your other side and gently took your head in her hands. She ran her fingers along your forehead, concentrating, tongue peaking out of her mouth. You had an urge to pull away, to tell her to leave you alone, but you had to admit that the touch she currently wielded upon your skin was bringing you some form of relief.

But then her blue eyes widened, and her hands were falling from your face. She stumbled back, very nearly trampling over the shoes of the people circling you. Even Lance's grip seemed to falter across your shoulders, but he made no attempt to pull away from you.

“Oh gods,” the Apollo girl whispered.

“What? What's wrong?” you asked, before another strike of pain darted through your forehead, causing you to keel over. Lance tried to hold you up, but his grip was weaker now and it was clear he was feeling the same sense of shock as everybody else surrounding you. “What is it?” you cried. “What is happening?”

Lance's hands zoomed up from your shoulders and to your jaw; he tilted your head upwards, forcing you to look at the blinding light above you – it wasn't the sun. It had definitely not been there before.

Through the prickle of tears, you could just barely make out the symbol glowing, big and bright, above your head – a skull and crossbones.

Chiron stepped down from the dais. Everybody fell silent, but you could still hear the pantings of scared campers.

“You have been claimed,” the centaur said, a slight hint of disappointment evident in his voice. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, daughter of Hades – god of the Underworld.”

---

You didn't sleep well that night.

All alone, curled up in the Hades cabin with the covers draped over your head. You were trying to block out the noise of the draft wafting in from the under the door, the sharp scream of the wind outside; Lance had told you that the weather was controlled entirely by Chiron, and you had half a mind to get out of bed and tell Chiron to stop making it so drafty.

But you didn't, because you felt as if you could barely move.

Your stomach was made of lead, it seemed like. Your legs were still weak from the pain that had coursed through you only a few hours prior, and, quite honestly, you just didn't want to leave the confines of the cabin. That meant facing people – people who very clearly didn't want to see you.

The next morning, you didn't leave your cabin until a few hours after you had awoken. You could hear the other campers filing out of their cabins, making their way to the breakfast buffet which you had hastily decided to skip – you would get something later on, whenever the dining hall was less packed full of people who thought you were going to kill them.

It was only whenever the darkness of the cabin started to gnaw at you did you finally get out of bed, get dressed into the orange shirt and trousers that had been left for you, and head outside.

The camp was in full spirits. People were sword fighting to your left, people were messing with the elements to your right. Chiron was wading between people, grinning and giving them pointers on how to hold a gods damned spear.

You nearly guffawed, very nearly stumbled over your own feet at such a bizarre sight – these people couldn't have been older than eighteen, and yet they were marching around with weaponry in their hands, slicing at the air as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Shocking, huh?”

You span around, nearly slamming into Lance. How he had snuck up behind you without making a noise was beyond you, but you decided not to question it. Instead, you folded your arms over your chest and ran your eyes down his figure.

He was dressed in an orange shirt that matched yours, his blue jacket draped over his shoulders. He was eating a churro, and holding a still fully-intact churro in his other hand.

He noticed you staring at it and quickly thrust it in your direction. “I noticed you didn't come down for breakfast this morning.”

You gratefully took the churro from him and nibbled on it as you watched the campers fighting in the fenced off area in the middle of the camp.

“You're gonna have to start doing that eventually, you know,” Lance said.

You scoffed. “I'm okay, thanks. I don't think I'd work well with a sword in my hand.”

“Well, it doesn't have to be a sword,” he said. “You could have a dagger, or a spear, or a trident, or a -”

“Or a pitchfork. Those are most commonly seen as symbols of death.”

Lance pursed his lips, immediately making you feel guilty for bringing the mood down; you shouldn't be speaking to him in this way, with so much hostility. He was one of the only people in this camp who were truly still supporting you, who didn't shiver every time you looked in their direction.

You sighed and nudged him gently, similar to the way he always nudged you. “Sorry. I'm still a bit . . . Shook up over what happened yesterday.”

“At dinner?”

You nodded. “I just don't understand why it had to happen there. Surely Hades – my – my dad – has a bit more kindness towards his kids than that.”

“My dad did the same thing. They're very strong gods, Y/N, meaning they make very strong children.”

“I must have got more of my mothers genes-”

Lance suddenly grabbed your elbow, forcing you to look at him. His face had morphed into a stern expression, his sharp jaw clenched and the veins in his neck protruding from the tanned skin. “Don't say that. I know this is weird for you, but this is your life now – this is who you are. There's a reason people are so scared of the children of the Big Three. We're powerful. Once we lodge ourselves into our powers properly-”

You shrugged your arm out of his grip. “I don't want to lodge into my powers. From what I've heard, I have the ability to raise the dead, and that doesn't sound like something I'm particularly excited to do.”

“They were being dramatic whenever they said you could raise the dead,” Lance mumbled, sheepishly taking another bite of his churro. “You can control the dead – you're not making them come back to life or anything. It's skeletons who are under your control.”

Your mouth ran dry. You fought off the urge to laugh at him, because you knew he was telling the truth. That was all he had been doing since the day he met you – just because it sounded unbelievable, didn't make it a lie.

“The sooner you start training, the better,” continued Lance. “How about me and you go down to the lake after lunch today and see what you can do?”

“I can't do anything,” you replied. “I didn't even know I had powers until yesterday.”

“Well then we'll start you off.” He smiled down at you, as if the idea of your life changing forever was something that amused him. “I'm a good teacher, I promise.” ---

The lake glistened. At the moment, it was the only comfort you were being given as you nervously waited for Lance to make his appearance.

You had agreed. Foolishly agreed to let him train you in the art of godly powers. Lunch had just ended, and you had spent the time pacing the camp nervously, not having the confidence to show your face amongst the other campers just yet – you weren't sure if you ever would.

They had every reason to be terrified of you, of course. You knew that. Apparently you held a power that they could only dream of, and because of your parentage, they were terrified of you. Again, you couldn't blame them. If you were in their position, you would be scared as well.

You folded your arms and stood over the edge of the lake, half tempted to slip your shoes off and dip your toes in. You could see the tiny little fish swimming around, darting to the surface every now and then before splashing back amongst the soft waves with a splash.

You smiled. It was peaceful. There was nobody here to disturb you, nobody who was terrified of you. It was just the fish, and the moon, and the soft sway of the-

Your thoughts were cut off as the lake suddenly exploded.

You cried out, stumbling back so hastily that you ended up tripping over your own feet and crashing onto your backside in the dirt. The water exploded up around you, rained down on your head until – for the second time in two days – your hair was draped over your eyes in soaked sheets.

After the water had splashed back into the lake, you could make out the sound of Lance's hysterical laughter behind you.

“I had to!” he exclaimed. You scrambled back onto your feet, turned to face him with a glare. He was doubled over, one arm looped around his middle, one hand pressed against his knee. “I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay? I just – The opportunity was too perfect to miss!”

You grumbled under your breath, slamming your hands into his shoulders. He chuckled at the action, slowly straightening himself back up and giving you an apologetic smile that you merely scowled at in response.

“Alright, alright. Let's get started,” he said, a hint of humour still evident with every word. “We should probably start by doing nice stretches.”

You raised a brow. “Stretches?”

He paused, looking at you curiously. “I don't really know what powers you were granted when you came out of the womb, meaning we have to be prepared for anything. You could very well injure yourself if we're not careful. Now, this is a stretch I like to call the Cockroach-”

“Can we not just – I don't know – mess around with some tactics and see which one works?”

Lance frowned, pausing in the odd pose he had taken up. Upon seeing that you hadn't been following his instructions, he quickly scrambled up and ran his hands down his blue jacket, coughing awkwardly. “Right. Yeah. That sounds like the best option.”

“Show me how you work your powers,” you said, stepping away from the lake and allowing Lance to take centre stage. He shot you a wary glance before stepping forward, and you could make out the soft hue of pink that was slowly crawling up his neck.

You hid your amused smile behind your hand, watching him closely.

You had to admit that Lance was powerful. He worked the water so well, as if it was made for him, as if he had formed every lake in the universe and knew exactly how each of them worked. He had closed his eyes, took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders back – and then he started.

It was like watching a water show at the zoo or something. It oddly brought you back to childhood, and you realised that it wasn't entirely down to the water that was currently forming shapes around you – it was Lance as well. It was the energy he gave off, the pure and raw joy he seemed to radiate at all times, but now more than ever. He was always smiling, always telling little jokes to make people laugh, but you had never seen the man look so. . . at home.

He moved his hands fluidly in front of him, and the water rose up into the air. It was in sheets at first, before he crossed his hands over his chest and the droplets crashed together, forming the shape of a dolphin leaping out of the water. The figure wiggled in the air for a moment before Lance put his hands back to his side and it delved back into the lake, disappearing for good.

And then he was creating more shapes – wolves grazing through mountains, a kitten playing with a ball of yarn, a centaur that looked suspiciously like Chiron – that one made you laugh, a real laugh that you hadn't heard from yourself in a very, very long time.

But Lance kept his eyes closed, and you were too in awe to stop him. Your fingers were itching to do the same, to work the water even though you knew you couldn't – whilst Lance had the beautiful abilities of manipulating the water into gorgeous shapes, you would soon find yourself doing the complete opposite.

Your powers were ugly, and his glistened.

It took a few minutes for Lance to finally come back to earth. His eyes popped open and he let his hands fall to his sides, the water dropping from the air and landing with a splash back into the lake. He turned to look at you, nervously scratched the back of his neck and gave you a sheepish smile that told you he very rarely showed off his powers to people – you had no doubt in your mind that nobody ever really asked.

You started clapping, slow and truthfully. Lance flushed a deep red colour, waved his hand in front of his face as if telling you it wasn't a big deal, but you couldn't stop the smile from arising on your cheeks.

“That was incredible,” you said. “You're incredible.”

Lance grunted. “It was nothing. That's not gonna help me if I'm under attack.” He turned back to the water, clicked his fingers, and immediately the water started swirling around at a speed you could barely comprehend. It blew your hair out of your face, sent tiny droplets of water spraying across your skin. You could taste the salt water, crinkled your nose up but continued to watch with curiosity nonetheless.

“A whirlpool,” Lance explained. “I know you have those in the mortal world, and they're very dangerous.” He clicked his fingers again and the whirlpool froze. “I don't do that often. Chiron warned me it wasn't the best for my reputation to start showing people the height of my strengths.”

“He isn't exactly wrong.” You stepped forward, craned your neck to get a better look at the water. “I think it was beautiful, though.”

Lance was silent for a moment. You continued to look down into the water, curiosity getting the better of you. It was funny how you could change mood so quickly, how you had once been dreading the idea of working your own powers, but now that you had seen Lance do it so well, you suddenly craved to feel the same way.

Lance coughed, breaking the silence in his usual, awkward way. “Alright then. Let's get started with you, shall we? Stand in front of me and don't break eye contact. Whatever you do, keep your eyes on me.”

You nodded, unsure as to what he was doing but refusing to question it. You stood in front of him, let your eyes burn into his blue ones. He narrowed his own, raised a brow, tilted his head – testing you to make sure you never once broke the eye contact.

You giggled as he quickly zoomed to the left. Your eyes followed him and he grinned.

“Good. Now, what I want you to do is conjure up an image that makes you angry – any image at all. A memory, a person's face – think of Keith, for example. Keith Kogane. The guy with the ugly hair and the red jacket.”

“I don't know who that is.”

“Lucky you,” mumbled Lance, before shaking his head and getting back to business. “I need you to think of something that just infuriates you. Strong emotions are key for bringing up somebody's powers.”

There was plenty that made you angry, you realised. You thought long and hard, the different experiences you had been through in life flashing through your mind, reminding you of all the times you could have very easily slammed your fist into a wall.

But there was one memory that was immediately brought to the forefront, a memory that immediately made true anger swell in your very being.

It was the one memory you had left of your mother – the memory of her drinking as your young self stood in the doorway, begging for her to make dinner. She had acted like she hadn't even heard you, continued to take a swig of her drink, before she had turned to you and spat, “You aren't my daughter. I didn't give birth to a mutant.”

Lance must have noticed the flash in your eyes. He nodded slowly to himself, placing his hands on your shoulders as he continued to give instructions. “Now I need you to channel that anger all throughout your body. It might sound confusing, but I know you can do it. You'll feel it – all of us Half-Bloods do. It's strong, unlike any human emotion. Do you understand?”

You nodded. You understood perfectly. The memory you had chosen was dancing on the brink of your brain, and you understood, even though it was nothing you had ever experienced before. You clenched your fists, felt the anger spearing through you, trickling through your very system like the water Lance had just manipulated.

Mutant. Mutant. Mutant.

Your stomach clenched. You gritted your teeth. You had never let your anger go on for so long, so harshly. You were usually so adamant to stop it, never wanting trouble that was unnecessary.

But now it was being let free, and you thought about your mother and the shit she had put you through purely because of your father.

It was her fault you had been alone your entire life. It was her fault you had never known who you were, where you came from, where you belonged. Because as you stood on the edge of this lake now, with anger spearing through you and Lance nodding enthusiastically in front of you, you realised that this very place was where you should have been the entire time. With people like you. Proving to them that you could be an equal, even though your father was a god who provoked such fear in people.

And then something popped.

You heard it dimly in the back of your head, and it immediately startled you back to reality. Your fingertips tingled, every bone in your body vibrating beneath your flesh.

You backed out of Lance's grip, suddenly afraid of hurting him somehow, even though you were completely oblivious to what you had done. Lance was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes twinkling.

You continued to back up, back up, back up, until your heel crashed against something and you fell backwards with a yell.

You crumbled to the floor, eyes immediately darting to the thing you had fallen over – and what you saw made your heart fall to your stomach.

It was a single bone, sticking up out of the mud. It looked to be the bone of a finger, as if a skeleton had tried crawling out of the ground but had gotten stuck just as they reached the surface.

“No,” you croaked out. “No, no, no. I didn't do that, did I? That was here when we got here, wasn't it?” Your eyes snapped up to Lance, who was looking at you in shock, as if he had fully expected you to love the idea of yourself causing skeletons to crawl up out of the floor. “Lance, please tell me-”

“I told you it was dark magic!”

Your eyes snapped up to the path that led out of the lake. Standing there was a tall man with long, white hair tied up in a ponytail. He wore a purple jacket and the same orange shirt underneath, a fairly well-beaded necklace strung around his neck.

He was looking at the bone at your feet, half in horror and half in amusement.

Lance was immediately standing in front of you, kicking the bone back into the mud and covering it with soil. You watched him do it, feeling horrible – was that truly the hand of a dead person? Lance had just kicked it back into the dirt as if had been nothing.

“Get back up to camp, Lotor,” Lance growled. “There's nothing to see here.”

“Well clearly that's a lie,” 'Lotor' sneered. “She's just tried bringing the dead back up! When Mr D finds out about this, he's going to be-”

“Mr D knows that Y/N needs to train. He isn't going to do anything.” Lance smiled then. “He already thinks you at the Ares cabin are pretty wimpy anyway. Wouldn't want to throw your siblings under the bus any more than they already are, would you?”

Lotor's lips curled into a snarl as he kept his eyes firm on Lance – Lance knew he was stronger, and Lotor knew that too. Although he had yet to back down, he had yet to make a move, either.

Finally, Lotor scoffed and swung his head back, the stray strand of white hair being pushed back by the movement. “You should watch who you spend your time with, Lance. This might very easily come back to bite you in the ass, and we both know your father isn't too keen on protecting his off-spring.”

With one final glare in Lance's direction, Lotor turned on his heel and headed back up the path.

You leaned forward and pressed your head in your hands. “They all think I'm doing dark magic.”

Lance sighed. You heard him kneel down beside you, felt his skinny arm once again wrapping around your shoulders. “Don't listen to Lotor. He's just angry because his dad isn't one of the Big Three and he doesn't feel special – Ares sleeps around with mortal women all the time, which means Lotor is one amongst many. He's just angry that Chiron doesn't pay him as much attention as he does to us.”

You nodded slowly, trying to understand what Lance was saying but failing to do so. Lotor didn't seem like the type of man who was just pushed off to the side – he had a sense of authority radiating off of him that had almost stunned you when he first appeared, very nearly made you feel as if you were about to be told off by a superior.

“You did a good job today, though,” said Lance softly. You looked up and gave him a grateful smile, despite the horror you still felt at the idea of you unearthing a dead, decomposed body. “Not many demigods are able to grab onto their powers so early. You must have been really angry.”

He chuckled nervously. You gave him the benefit of the doubt and laughed along with him, even though you didn't feel humourous or joyful in the slightest.

“I think we should wait until later on until we do anything else,” you said. “At least until the other campers have gone to sleep.”

“You don't really care about what they think, do you?” Lance asked, helping you up as he did so. “Y/N, you have every right to train with your powers – just as they do. They can't stop you.”

“I know that. I know.” You ran a hand through your hair. “I just don't want the campers to be any more afraid of me. Whilst I have a right to train, they also have a right to not live in fear, you know? I've only been here a day – I'm trying to make a decent first impression.”

Lance pursed his lips and continued to stare at the back of your head as the two of you descended from the lake.

---

Lance all but forced you to join him for dinner the previous day.

You had been avoiding his training sessions all day, instead busying yourself with trying to rack up a few more clothes from the other cabins – the campers had been too afraid of you to say no, and had given you everything you needed upon you asking for it.

But now, you sat beside Lance at the Poseidon table, trying your hardest to avoid the glares being sent to the back of your head by Lotor and his friends over at the Ares table, which was always the loudest at dinner.

Lance chewed on a piece of steak, letting out soft 'mm's' of appreciation. You picked away at your own meal, finding it too difficult to eat anything that you had to chew – you felt as if your throat had closed up completely.

Lance stuck his fork in your face, a piece of steak pierced through the tongs. “Want a bite?”

You pushed his arm away. “I'm good.”

“You have to eat something.” Lance groaned, set his own fork down and picked up yours. You watched on in amusement as he pierced a piece of asparagus and brought it to your lips – you couldn't hold back your giggle, giving Lance the perfect opportunity to slip the asparagus into your mouth.

You chewed on it, shaking your head. “I'm not a baby.”

“Until you start acting like an adult, that's how I'm gonna treat you.” He roughly bit at his steak again, gravy spewing down his chin. “I did not travel for four days straight to find you, just for you to arrive at Camp Half-Blood and starve to death. It's not happening.”

“You must feel real good knowing you've basically saved my life.”

Lance shot a glare in your direction, mouth still full of steak. “I don't appreciate the sarcasm.”

You giggled, but continued to eat your dinner – he was right. At the end of the day, eating was the best thing you could do. Years of malnutrition should have had you mauling the food in front of you – you had a chance to repair your damaged body, and you needed to take it.

Dinner went on. You and Lance continued to joke around, him finishing his meal and immediately beginning to complain about how he would have had more if he wasn't forced to scrape half of his meal into the sacrifice fire up at the front.

You listened to his complaining until they were drowned out by the screaming.

Your head snapped up, fear slamming through you instinctively. It seemed as if the rest of the camp didn't have those natural moments of debate, as almost immediately, Lance and the rest of the campers were jumping out of their seats and barrelling down the hill towards the noise.

You swallowed thickly before following close behind them; they were all heading down to the lake.

“What's going on?”

“Is anyone hurt?”

“Let the Apollo cabin go first, just in case!”

You lagged behind, standing on your tippy-toes at the back of the crowd in your attempts to see what all the hassle was about.

The gasps confirmed something for you – this was not a false alarm.

A girl in a green jacket suddenly threw herself forward into a man in yellows arms, gasping for air. Tears were streaming down her face, and as soon as the man in yellow wrapped his arms around her, she broke down. She buried her face in his shoulder and started wailing, too overwhelmed to describe what she had just witnessed.

You risked stepping forward, and immediately regretted it.

Because laying by the edge of the river was a dead body.

Dead in a way you had never seen before, and you had seen plenty of dead bodies in your time. Living on the streets made it difficult to avoid seeing dead bodies, hidden behind alleyways, bodies of your friends who had gone one day too long without food. But this was unlike anything you had ever seen.

It was the body of a man with ginger hair and a ginger, curled moustache. He was sprawled out in the dirt, and there were black veins crawling up his body, attacking his arms and his neck until his face almost looked inhuman. His mouth was open as if he had been screaming, his eyes wide and the glasses on the edge of his nose shattered.

Chiron pushed forward. “Coran.”

“What happened to him?” Pidge, the girl in green, wailed. “I was just – I was walking down here to go and feed the serpents, and he was just there!”

“Who is responsible for this?” Chiron bellowed, as if he genuinely expected an answer. “This was not an accidental death! The gods will have seen the culprit-”

“We don't need the gods help.”

All eyes snapped over to Lotor, who took a big and bold step forward into the spotlight. Lance reached out and grabbed your hand – you hadn't even realised he had come to your side.

Lotor turned and faced the crowd. “This was the work of dark magic – we all know there's only one person here who has the ability to kill, whose father prides himself on death – this was the work of Y/N L/N, daughter of Hades.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Lance suddenly yelled, and for the first time, it was you who had to tangle your hands with his own, tugging him back before he could throw himself towards Lotor. “Chiron, you don't believe a word he says, do you? That douchebag has had it out for the kids of the Big Three since he stepped foot inside of this gods damned camp!”

“Stop yelling, Mr McClain.”

“Not until he admits he's just being a jealous little prick!”

“Lance!” you exclaimed, tugging him back roughly. Lance stumbled into your chest, his breathing heavy. He never once took his angered glare off of Lotor, who was simply shaking his head in faux disappointment.

“You see, Chiron?” he said. The centaur had his head bowed, looking down at the dead body at his hooves. “The children of the Big Three are as we always suspected – uncontrollable, dangerous. Lance loses his temper and starts yelling to the heavens almost as soon as somebody disagrees with him. Is it really that big of a stretch to think that the daughter of Hades has the same temper, that perhaps she took things a little too far?”

“She hasn't even known she's a Half-Blood for more than two days,” Hunk, the man in yellow, spoke up. “I find it hard to believe she's already capable of killing a man.”

Lotor grinned now. “Funny you say that, Hunk. I happen to have bore witness to her unearthing a skeleton only yesterday afternoon – she's a lot more powerful than we've given her credit for.”

Chiron's head snapped up. Your body froze, horror flooding through you – oh gods he was right.

“Is this true, Miss L/N?” Chiron asked, voice wavering.

You swallowed the golf ball sized lump in your throat, head snapping left and right, as if begging the other campers to step in and help you – you didn't know what to say. Did you confess and make yourself seem powerful, or did you lie and make yourself seem guilty?

It was Lance who eventually answered for you. “Pointing your fingers at the new girl purely because she's powerful is a bullys move. You know that, Chiron. You're better than that.”

Chiron whinnied. “I don't know what to think right now, Lance.”

“You need to start looking into the real evidence!” Lance barked. “Hunk was right – Y/N hasn't even known she's a demigod for that long. She had a strike of luck yesterday with her powers, but even then she was only able to unearth a finger from a skeleton – she's most definitely not at the level to kill someone!” “This coming from another child of a Big Three god,” Lotor sneered. “You protect each other because you're both outsiders. It's obvious to see.”

“If you don't shut your gods damned mouth, Lotor-”

“Enough!” Chiron barked, holding up a hand to silence the arguing demigods. “I will look into this. Until I can rule out the suspects, Y/N is at the top of my list.”

“Chiron-” Lance wailed, but you stopped him by placing a hand on his chest. He inhaled deeply, stepped back and bit down into his bottom lip, clearly trying to hold back his temper.

Chiron shot you an apologetic glance, the last piece of hope he was going to give you that he didn't truly believe Lotor's claims – but you couldn't blame him for keeping you under close eye. You were the new arrival, had the power to kill if you so wanted to. Even though you had yet to learn such a skill, would never want to learn such a skill, it made sense why Chiron would think of you as the lead suspect.

“Everyone back to their cabins for the night. Training is cancelled until tomorrow morning,” said Chiron. “Somebody help me move this body.”

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