Cathy's Corner

Apollo nodded along to Ophelia's instructions as he tied off his threads, but as he heard this he looked up at where the young girl was finishing up one of her own thread bracelets. “Which one are you giving to the Athenide?”

“This one,” Ophelia held up one made with saffron colored thread, “it matches the one she made for me.”

“I'm sure she will love it,” Apollo replied without thinking. 

He froze as he realized what he had said. Perseleia would have loved it. 

Ophelia hummed happily as she worked on another bracelet, unaware of the shadow of grief that had interrupted the moment.

Staring at the collection of threads, Apollo wondered what he was doing. As weaving had always been more of Athena’s interest than his, But here he was, raiding her weaving stash so he could make matching thread bracelets for her daughter.

His eye was caught by some saffron colored thread, much like the one The Daughter of Carpo had used. Perseleia had always loved to use it while at the camp.

As Apollo reached to take a strand of it, he saw Perseleia's favorite wine-dark shade that she called μπλε. He hesitated, it was clearly a much used color, could he truly take it from his sister? Apollo’s eyes flickered over to where a loom stood waiting. If they were mortals, it would be gathering dust, as it had clearly not been used since that day.

He pursed his lips as he debated whether or not to take from Perseleia's project. But he so desired to have something physical…

In the light of dawn, Apollo could almost imagine that the faded silver hair was once again a riot of vivid red curly hair as it fluttered in the sea breeze. As Cassandra stared at the seashore she had first stepped onto Sparta from, he could picture when she had stood with Perseleia on the battlements of Troy.

Apollo wondered what she was seeing. If she saw the bustling of fishermen that was currently happening, the crowds that had cheered for their returning queen many years ago, or the visions of death that had plagued her since her first vision. 

“It’s nearly time, my Lord.” She turned to face him, Apollo felt his heartbeat falter as he could see her sea colored eyes. He ignored it just like he had every time he had visited her since that day. “The flame is moving.”

Apollo sighed as he sat next to her, “I had feared that was the case.” He did not want to leave the lands that Perseleia had wandered with Artemis. For being a God–an Olympian even–Apollo was too familiar with not getting what he wanted. “The others are forgetting her. Forgetting Perseleia, for Nerio Fides.” He grit out the cursed name.

Cassandra turned back to the sea, giving Apollo a moment to calm. 

Apollo took a breath, “Nothing I do will correct the tale, will it?” He cursed that so many had survived Troy, the idea that Nerio Veritas had blessed Paris was too ingrained for Clio to strike it from the records. Not without Father’s approval. 

 “For now,” She agreed, turning back to face him, "The sword will wait in its stone for a long while longer.”

Apollo pressed his forehead against Cassandra’s to hide the warmth behind his eyes. He hated the Trojans for the disrespect they continued to show his wife, “Any amount of time is too long.”

No matter how much the Greek World liked to relive it's glory days, it is not the same as going back in time millennia.

Percy didn't have her friends and family--some of the Gods and heroes she had grown up knowing haven't even been born yet.

She didn't have the food she loved. Tomatoes were a new world fruit, so she couldn't have pizza. Apparently blueberries weren't a thing in ancient Greece so she couldn't even have any blue food. Percy would correct that somehow, but that would take time.

@chaoticdumbassrogue how is this for more?

“APOLLO!”

At Athena’s call, Apollo dropped the lute he had been strumming. There was no good reason for his sister to summon him when she was supposed to be spending the day with Perse.

He had not expected to see Athena cradling her daughter in the middle of a flower field, hands red as she tried to staunch the bleeding. Nor had Asclepius, as his son gasped on arrival. Then again, who would expect a goddess to bleed? 

Apollo ignored the pool of red that slowly grew as he knelt next to his beloved and her mother. He sent his power into the wound to close it, and stopped.

“There’s poison.” his voice dark, “The wound won’t close until the poison is neutralized."

Asclepius knelt next to him, attempting to draw the poison to a single spot, but it was already in the bloodstream. 

“You have a sample, now get an antidote” Apollo snapped as he pushed his power through Perse, trying to slow the poison. He would apologize to Asclepius later, but this would either get Perse the help she needs, or make it so he wouldn't have to watch his mother die. 

It was bad enough that Athena was there, he thought, as she begged, “What do I do, chick?”

“Mama…” Perse whimpered, her face paling as the color kept seeping out of her despite Apollo’s efforts.

The poison eluded him. Why was it eluding him?

“What do I do?”

Perse, clutched her mother’s hand, “the Fleece. “ It was barely more than a whisper.

Apollo tore his eyes away from the wound to look at her, “what was that?”

“The Fleece…” Perse's eyelashes fluttered, as she tried to keep them open. “The Golden…”

“Don't worry about it,” Apollo told her, as he tried to ignore the fact that the only color in her face was the red blood around her mouth and the way her voice was losing strength, “Just focus on staying with me.” 

“it's the only thing…” Perse kept talking though the light in her eyes dulled. 

Why was she talking? Why wouldn’t she save her breath? Save her strength? 

“Then we’ll find it.” Athena promised her. 

“She'll need it…”

Apollo would do anything if it would stop her from fading between his fingers. “Don’t worry about it.” if he couldn’t slow the blood, then he would increase the blood production,

“It.. Works too… “ blood is coughed up, “Well,”

“We’ll find it.” He tried, “Just stay with me. Stay with us”

Perse’s eyes regained focus on him, her voice barely even a whisper as she spoke. “Brace yourself.” This seemed to have taken the last of her energy.

Asclepius popped back into the room, “Father, it’s olde–” He came back just in time to see his mother fade into water. He had failed at both of his tasks, Apollo thought numbly as Athena started howling.

Athena had lost her daughter.

He had lost his wife.

Asclepius had lost his mother.

Yet Apollo was the only one who could not show the depths of his loss. He pushed down the thought as enfolded his weeping sister. He started to rub his hand down her back, before he remembered his hands were coated in blood. 

Red, not gold. 

Not like Asclepius’s birth. Not like the last time her blood had been on his hands.

Apollo swallowed the bile that blocked his throat. “I got you ‘thena.” He raised his eyes to where his son stood, shell shocked. “Asclepius,” he shouldn't have had to see this. Shouldn’t have had to see his mother die, “Asclepius, come get Athena. I need to let the Council know.”

***

The spot where the Athenide died was hidden and forgotten, no mortal was worthy to stand there, and Rome had stolen the memory from the Gods. And so, no one noticed that where the ground she died formed a ditch that turned into a pond. Nor did they notice that the mortal blood that had pooled around the dying goddess had transformed the daisies that had tumbled out of her hand into what would be known as water crowfeet.

And if you say that Rome had slaves, I would reply that so did Ancient Greece and pretty much all of the ancient world. The more likely factor of joining the Civil War would be on the mortal side and not the divine. Could there have been a divine factor? Sure, but I don't think it was the Greeks vs the Romans. That would take away a lot of the meaning behind the war.

What I do think was influenced by that divide? The Revolutionary War. Now, I still don't think that Olympus had moved to the New World (To England maybe but not the New World), but I do think that Demigods were starting to cross over. The idea of religious freedom, or at least getting away from the heavily Christian areas was probably very appealing.

“Here's a sample. Get an antidote” Apollo snapped as he pushed his power through Perse, trying to slow the poison. He would apologize to Asclepius later, but this would either get Perse the help she needs, or make it so he wouldn't have to watch his mother die.

Perse, clutched his hand, “the Fleece. “ It was barely more than a whisper.

Apollo tore his eyes away from the wound to look at her, “what was that?”

“The Fleece…” Perse's eyelashes fluttered, as she tried to keep them open. “The Golden…”

“Don't worry about it,” Apollo told her, as he tried to ignore the lack of ichor on his hands and the way her voice was losing strength, “Just focus on staying with me.” The poison eluded him. Why was it eluding him?

“it's the only thing…” Perse kept talking though the light in her eyes dulled, “ She'll need it…”

Why was she talking? Why wouldn’t she save her breath? Save her strength? “Then we’ll find it.” Apollo promised her. He would do anything if it would stop her from fading between his fingers. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll find it. Just stay with me.”

Asclepius popped back into the room, “Father it’s Elder Py–” He came back just in time to see his mother fade into saltwater. Apollo had failed at both tasks.

And Apollo has a completely different relationship with the Romans compared to canon. He wouldn't be facing a lover he betrayed, but avenging his wife. Heck, I'm half surprised that he has any Roman descendants with how much he hates Rome.