Chapter Text
Clouds.
Lights.
Percy whimpered, eyes blurry. His back hurt, he was laying on something hard.
He twisted to the side.
He was on the ground, back on cold, stone. His arms were shackled together, behind his back. The shoulder he had turned onto hurt, it tugged behind him painfully.
“Good morning, Percy.”
He flinched.
She stood off to the side, sitting on the trunk from earlier. He cast a panicked look around and realized it was the same room, just missing the carpet. Instead, discordant, wet-looking grey rocks underlined the erstwhile pink room.
“Let me go!” he demanded. His voice came out steady, mercifully. He wasn’t sure the whole laying on the ground helpless bit was projecting the aura of menace he desired.
“Hear me out,” she started, voice level and face smooth. Her hair was open and brushed out, neat and tidy. Gone was the wild, gleaning look from her eye and the mess of tears.
“Shut up,” he snarled, tugging harshly at his shackles. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time.”
“I just omitted the truth,” she countered, pushing off her seat and approaching him. He struggled backwards, futilely. She grabbed him by an arm and hoisted him up, the back of his head knocked against the cold stone of the pink wall behind him. “I can release you from your bonds, so long as you swear you give this a fair shot.”
“I’m not swearing anything! Let me go!”
“Gods, Percy,” she sighed. Her form shimmered, hair darkening. Skin too. Then she blinked back to normalcy. “I’ll give you some grace here, I suppose that was a lot, on the beach.”
Ya think?
“You mean when you set me on fire? Over and over again?”
She scoffed, pushing off to pace away from him. “Okay, admittedly, that was a bit overzealous. I mean, the sleeping draught was already working its magic.” The fucking sweet tea? “Let me start over.” Percy twisted his wrists. The cuffs of the shackles let his wrists rotate a bit, so there was some give. “I have met so many, many, many men and women on this island, Percy. It’s so rare I find someone like you - a gentleman and a warrior. It feels rarer still, as the years go by. And you’re so young, I wondered if my luck had turned. But alas! You’re already taken. All the good ones are.”
She turned back towards him, and the wild look was back in her eye. He froze in his fiddling with his cuffs.
“One day, you’ll see. Take your time to adjust, and when you’re ready . . . you will accept this place. Your new home. You were meant for this peace. I know it. The gods are rewarding both of us though this union.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her, jiggling his chains. “Lady, I got no interest in unions unless they’re protecting workers from capitalism. I do not have time for this. I didn’t tell you this, but I have a Great prophecy to fulfill, okay? So someone is going to show up, if I don’t manage to escape myself. The gods need me to be their errand boy still.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
He took a deep breath and let it out, speaking a little more calmly. “And I intend to keep my promise, okay? I will ask them for your freedom. Just let me go. The sooner I can leave, the sooner you can too.”
She laughed at him.
Full on, belly shaking, convulsing laughter.
Okay, look, Sally Jackson did not raise him to disrespect women but this lady was clearly certifiable. He growled, “Calypso, I swear to the gods-”
“Now, now, don’t go making more promises to me.” She pounced, crouching before him, grabbing him by the throat. Percy learned first-hand that immortals isolated on an island for millennia worked out. He choked, body stretched taut as she held him up by the throat. Her voice was soft, at odds with her sweaty, cold fingers digging into his throat. “Why would I ever leave here? I’ve made my home here, Percy. It’s a quiet, peaceful abode. All I want is someone to share it with - our own little world . . .” she leaned close, nose touching his. “Trust me, I know what’s best for you.”
She let him drop and he crashed on his bad knee. This was shaping up to be a stellar vacation. 10 out of 10 on Expedia.
“Now, I need to make my rounds, check on the chickens. I suggest you take some time to calm down and think about this rationally.”
She turned languidly, and Percy kicked out, catching her ankles and sweeping her legs from under her.
But the chains stopped him short as he tried to pin her to the ground. Instead, she kicked him in the ribs, hard enough that he definitely heard a crack! The wind knocked out of him.
She said nothing, walked away in silence. The brown door disappeared behind her.
Percy dropped his temple onto the cold stone floor with a sob.
“Poseidon, Dad, please.” He shut his eyes firmly and yelled for Grover mentally.
Without his hands, broken ribs and a fucked knee . . . how was he possibly supposed to overpower a crazy hippie with a penchant for torture?