#toa centric

Title: In which Artemis is very very aroace

Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Fandoms: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan Relationship: Apollo & Artemis (Percy Jackson) Characters: Apollo (Percy Jackson), Artemis (Percy Jackson) Language: English Wordcount: 760

Summary:

Artemis and Apollo discuss romantic and sexual attraction. Artemis is very ace, and while there might not yet be a word, Apollo is supportive.

Tags: 

Sibling Bonding, Fluff, Canon Asexual Character, Banter, Spitefic, No beta we die like Dionysus did that one time

Mt. Olympus.

At some point post the twins getting their thrones, but well before Hermes was born, probably when the twins were teenaged.

BCE.

"Apollo?" Artemis asked from where she laid, sprawled across a couch. Eyes tracing the swirling designs on the ceiling. She idly wondered who designed it.

Apollo looked up from where he sat, doodling, for the hundredth time, a picture-perfect drawing of the current deity he's infatuated with. "Yeah?"

"Is it... Really a thing? To want to.. I don't know. Be romantic with someone?"

"Uh. Yeah?" Apollo sat up, looking confused. "Why?"

Apollo is only this good at reading people when he actually tries. At first, he often didn’t put in the effort, and just fooled himself into thinking that they were thinking or feeling what he wanted them to be thinking or feeling.

When Apollo meets Meg, he actually thinks about his own people-reading skills.

My highly advanced people-reading skills told me she [Meg] was hiding something, but that was not unusual for demigods. For children blessed with an immortal parent, they were strangely sensitive about their backgrounds. (THO 20-21).

Apollo wants to believe that having a god as a parent is a great blessing, so he doesn’t really choose to think about what kind of life a lot of these demigods lead, what with often being raised by a single parent, getting kicked out of schools, and being hunted by monsters constantly. He doesn’t care to know, so he doesn’t dig and figure it out.

He also misremembers how much he’s helped Percy.

“But Percy Jackson has always been reliable. You have nothing to fear. Besides, he likes me. I taught him everything he knows.” (24)

He’s only really interacted with Percy four times: when picking up the Hunters in Titan’s curse; when disguised as Fred the Hobo; sort of when he made Rachel the Oracle of Delphi; and when he sent Percy to retrieve his wayward Celadon in Singer of Apollo. And Percy was NOT happy with Apollo after Singer of Apollo. But Apollo wants to be partly responsible for Percy’s successes and he wants everyone to like him, so that’s what he remembers.

Speaking of Singer of Apollo, that short story really shows how little he used to listen to others, and how easily he could be fooled into believing that they are thinking and feeling things that are favorable to him.

“we’re kind of off duty, Lord Apollo. It’s Grover’s birthday.”

“Happy birthday!” Apollo said. “I’m so glad you’re taking the day off. That means you two have time to help me with a small problem!”

He’s not really listening to what Percy has to say here. He’s twisting Percy’s words to mean what he WANTS them to mean, and it’s not like Percy can really refuse him, for fear of incineration.

When Percy and Grover get back from retrieving the rogue Celadon, Apollo offers a reward, which Percy declines:

“Well, good job you two! As your reward, you’re invited to watch me perform on Mount Olympus.”

Grover and I glanced at each other. Insulting a god was dangerous, but the last thing I wanted was to hear more music.

“We aren’t worthy,” I lied. “We’d love to, really, but you know, we’d probably explode or something if we heard your godly music at full volume.”

Apollo nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. It might distract from my performance if you exploded. How considerate of you.” He grinned. “Well, I’m off, then. Happy birthday Percy!”

Now apparently people exploding while listening to Apollo’s music IS a serious concern, but Apollo still should have been able to tell that Percy and Grover were actually just looking for an excuse to skip the concert... if he had cared to look more deeply into what they were thinking and feeling. Which he didn’t. He didn’t even care enough to remember that it was Grover’s birthday, not Percy’s. I strongly suspect that if post-TBM Apollo could rewatch his interactions with Percy and Grover during this quest, he’d face-palm at how oblivious he was. Or be tempted to punch himself in the face. Or both.

Back in The Hidden Oracle, he IS actually able to read Percy when he meets up with him a short time later, but dismisses his own reading of Percy’s expression, since it’s not favorable to him.

If I didn’t know how much Percy Jackson adored me, I would have sworn he was about to punch me in my already broken nose. (26)

He does this sort of thing a lot throughout THO and TDP, where he reads people and situations accurately, and then tells himself that that can’t possibly be the case. He mostly stops that by the time TBM rolls around, though.

Apollo gets this reading-accurately-and-then-denying-it thing a lot with Percy especially.

“Well, never fear,” I said. “There are always new opportunities to win fame! That’s why I’ve come to you for help!”

He gave me that confusing expression again: as if he wanted to kick me, when I was sure he was struggling to contain his gratitude. (33)

Apollo just can’t seem to accept Percy’s true thoughts and feelings, so he always just goes with the interpretations that’s most charitable to himself, like when Percy mentions that the Oracle isn’t working:

I swallowed back the taste of fear and seven-layer dip. “I just... I assumed - I hoped this would be taken care of by now.”

“You mean by demigods,” Percy said, “going on a big quest to reclaim the Oracle of Delphi?”

“Exactly!” I knew Percy would understand. “I suppose Chiron just forgot. I’ll remind him when we get to camp and he can dispatch some of you talented fodder - I mean heroes -” (47)

I suppose Apollo’s right in that Percy understands what Apollo means. Percy just isn’t thrilled about it, which Apollo doesn’t seem to realize. Or rather, doesn’t WANT to realize. He desires Percy’s respect and even adoration, so he keeps on fooling himself into thinking he has it.

This self-deception doesn’t hold up for very long. He gets better at reading people pretty quickly - especially Meg, since he doesn’t crave her respect or adoration the same way he desires Percy’s, so he’s more willing to take his own reading of her at face value, rather than trying to fool himself. Plus he knows very little about her, neither does anyone else, and she’s not volunteering much. So if he wants to know more about his new master, he has to become really perceptive and good at getting her to open up.

I glanced at the rings on her middle fingers. “So yesterday... those swords. And don’t do that thing.”

Meg’s eyebrows furrowed. “What thing?”

“That thing where you shut down and refuse to talk. Your face turns to cement.”

She gave me a furious pout. “It does not. I’ve got swords. I fight with them. So what?”

“So it might have been nice to know that earlier, when we were in combat with the plague spirits.”

“You said it yourself: those spirits couldn’t be killed.”

“You’re sidestepping” (THO 133)

A little later in the conversation, he’s able to acquire enough hints from her words and expressions to get an idea of what may be going on:

“I never met my mom.” she said. “I didn’t know who she was.”

“Then where did you get the swords? Your father?”

Meg tore her waffle into tiny pieces. “No... my stepdad raised me. He gave me these rings.”

“Your stepfather. Your stepfather gave you rings that turn into imperial gold swords. What sort of man -”

“A good man,” she snapped.

I noted the steel in Meg’s voice and let the subject rest. I sensed a great tragedy in her past.” (THO 134)

Apollo is able to ask just the right questions to get the hint that something is kinda weird about Meg’s relationship with her stepfather, and to get a hint that something traumatic is involved - and also that pursuing that subject would be bad for his health.

When he and Meg end up in Python’s cave, he’s also able to identify that Meg’s more terrified of the man’s voice, than she is of the giant reptile talking to him:

Next to me, in the glow of the apple, Meg seemed to have turned to bronze. Her eyes were wide with fear. A little late for that, but at least she was quiet. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought the man’s voice terrified her more than the monster’s. (THO 168)

Probably the best, and possibly his most important reading of Meg, was when he was able to identify what sort of manipulation Nero had used on her, to get her to obey him.

“Meg had been trained to regard her kindly stepfather Nero and the terrifying Beast as two separate people. I understood now why she preferred to spend her time in the alleys of New York. I understood why she had such quick mood changes, going from cartwheels to full shutdowns in a matter of seconds. She never knew what might unleash the Beast.

She fixed her eyes on me. Her lips quivered. I could tell she wanted a way out - some eloquent argument that would mollify her stepfather and allow her to follow her conscience. (THO 289- 290).

His ability to read both the situation and Meg is crucial to persuading Meg to fight back against Nero, even if it doesn’t last. Plus, it lets him identify much of the basics of what happened to her, even though he’s not outright told, which is useful in his efforts to help her throw off his brainwashing in later books.

Meg isn’t the only person Apollo can read - far from it. In the Dark Prophecy, he’s able to tell that Leo and Calypso have asked to stay at the Waystation:

“Assuming we live through tomorrow,” I said, “you two intend to remain at the Waystation.”

[...]

“How did you know?” Calypso asked.

“The serious conversations with our hosts?” I said. “The furtive glances?” (291)

He’s also able to persuade some blemmyae to blow up the Cave of Trophonious, and that a 5 second timer counts slower underwater. Blemmyae are stupid though, so that’s not as impressive as it sounds.

Over in The Burning Maze, Apollo’s able to read Jason pretty well, despite only having known him for a few minutes. He’s able to tell that Jason’s hiding something.

“All right,” I said. “What did the Sibyl really tell you?”

[...]

“What makes you think I’m holding back?” he asked.

“Please,” I said. “Don’t try to be evasively prophetic with the god of evasive prophecies.” (211)

Piper seems to have an idea that Jason might still be holding something back, but Apollo acts like he knows for sure, and is able to persuade him to open up.

Later in their conversation, Apollo reads the situation between Jason and Piper REALLY well.

“You would’ve let us lead you cheerily off to your death? How would that have affected Piper’s peace of mind, once she found out?”

Jason’s ears reddened. It struck me just how young he was - no more than seventeen. Older than my mortal form, yes, but not by much. This young man had lost his mother. He had survived the harsh training of Lupa the wolf goddess. He’d grown up with the discipline of the Twelfth legion at Camp Jupiter. He’d fought Titans and Giants. He’d helped save the world at least twice. But by mortal standards, he was barely an adult. He wasn’t old enough to vote or drink.

Despite all his experiences, was it fair of me to expect him to think logically, and consider everyone’s feelings with perfect clarity, while pondering his own death?

I tried to soften my tone. “You don’t want Piper to die. I understand that. She wouldn’t want you to die. But avoiding prophecies never works. And keeping secrets from friends... that really never works. It’ll be our job to face Caligula together, steal that homicidal maniac’s shoes, and get away without any five-letter words that start with D.” (214-215)

Apollo’s social skills here, his ability to read Jason, and knowing just what to say here is really impressive. He may have complained in the past about not being a silver-tongued orator anymore, but I’d argue that his skills there have IMPROVED, not lessened. He just needed to get over some of his self-pity and awkwardness first.

Jason’s not the only one he’s gotten good at reading and giving advice to, though. While on board Caligula’s wardrobe boat, he pressed her about the song she sang, “Life of Illusion”, and what it meant to her. That the way she sang the song, she was talking about herself, and her feelings about Jason. He got her to open up.

“I tried,” she murmured. “After the war with Gaea, I convinced myself everything would be perfect. For a while, a few months maybe, I thought it was. Jason’s great. He’s my closest friend, even more than Annabeth. “But” - she spread her hands - “whatever I thought was there, my happily-ever-after... It just wasn’t.”

I nodded. “Your relationship was born in crisis. Such romances are difficult to sustain once the crisis is over.” (263)

Piper confesses that the major problem she had with their relationship was how she had been manipulated and pressured into it by Hera’s and Aphrodite’s machinations, and how she wanted a chance to figure out who she is and what she wants.

“You’re wondering who you are without all the pressure.” (264)

She’s not even sure if she counts as Cherokee, since Cherokee heritage is matrilineal, and her mother is a Greek goddess, not Cherokee. Apollo has some surprisingly profound and comforting words of wisdom for her:

“It’s been my observation,” I said, “that you humans are more than the sum of your history. You can choose how much of your ancestry to embrace. You can overcome the expectations of your family and your society. What you cannot do, and should never do, is try to be someone other than yourself - Piper McLean.” (265)

Apollo now excels at really listening to people and offering comfort and support. He hasn’t done so in the past, either by choice because he didn’t care, or because he honestly wasn’t as good at reading people and seeing what they needed. But now he’s excellent at it, and I suspect that his skill will only improve. 

Apollo’s also gotten really good at reading situations to manipulate his enemies, like when his party is captured by some pandai while infiltrating Caligula’s ships.

I scanned the deck. No additional guards were running toward us, no searchlights were trained on our position. No horns blared. Somewhere inside the boat, gentle music played - not the sort of soundtrack one might expect during an incursion.

The pandai had not raised a general alarm. Despite their threats, they had not yet killed us. They’d even gone to the trouble of zip-tying Piper’s and Jason’s hands. Why?

I turned to the largest guard “Good sir, are you the panda in charge?”

[...]

I studied his majestic ears, then hazarded an educated guess. “I imagine you hate people eavesdropping on you.”

Amax’s furry black nose twitched. “Why do you say this? What did you hear?”

“Nothing!” I assured him. “But I bet you have to be careful. Always other people, other pandai snooping into your business. That’s - that’s why you haven’t raised an alarm yet. You know we’re important prisoners. You want to keep control of the situation, without anyone else taking credit for your good work.” (241-242)

Apollo used some pretty limited info, managed to arrive at the correct conclusion, and then manipulated the situation to his benefit (though the others started helping at that point). Even Piper could scarcely have done better!

Later in the scene, when Meg is able to fight back, Apollo’s the one who notices that Crest doesn’t want to hurt them, and is able to persuade him to leave.

With a horrified whimper, Crest dropped his bow. He staggered backward, struggling to draw his sword. Meg yanked her first scimitar from Amax’s dust-covered chair and marched toward him.

“Meg, wait!” I said.

She glared at me. “What?”

I tried to raise my hands in a placating gesture, then remembered they were tied behind my back.

“Crest,” I said, “there’s no shame in surrender. You are not a fighter.”

He gulped. “Y-you don’t know me.”

“You’re holding your sword backward,” I pointed out. “So unless you intend to stab yourself...”

He fumbled to correct the situation.

“Fly!” I pleaded. “This doesn’t have to be your fight. Get out of here! Become the musician you want to see in the world!”

He must have heard the earnestness in my voice. He dropped his sword and jumped through the gaping hole in the glass, ear-sailing into the darkness.

“Why’d you let him go?” Meg demanded. “He’ll warn everybody.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Also, it doesn’t matter. We just announced ourselves with a literal thunderbolt.” (252)

Everyone has access to the same info about Crest that Apollo does, and yet Apollo is the one who tries to save Crest, is able to persuade him to retreat, and understands Crest well enough to suspect that he won’t raise the alarm (not that it mattered).

Later on Apollo sees Crest again.

“I think we’re being followed,” I said. “Our friend Crest.”

Piper scanned the night sky. “What do we do about it?”

“I’d recommend nothing,” I said. “If he wanted to attack us or raise the alarm, he could’ve already done it.” (266)

Apollo’s better at reading the situation than Piper is here - probably because he identifies with Crest, music-lover that he is. He’s able to read Crest really well, and make the correct decision. Much like with Meg, reading Crest accurately was key to getting his help later. If Apollo hadn’t been as good as he is, Crest would still be dead, likely murdered by Meg, and Apollo would be gone for good.

Kayla: I am Ronald McDonald! Don’t judge!

Austin: *giggling*

Apollo: ...

Kayla: This is not a phase!!

Me: