Chapter Text
Driving the Sun Chariot is one of the most relaxing things in the world.
Just the Chariot, his horses, and the open sky. No sounds of Olympus, no smells or feelings or stimuli that attacked his forever-sensitive senses. Just… peace.
No Father and Hera arguing, no sibling bickering, no Mother demanding he sit down and let her serve his meal portion, no Artemis–
Artemis.
He sighed, gently tugging on the bridle of his steeds, indicating that they had to land soon, even though they had just taken off.
The horses were well-trained, handed down to him by Helios, and so there was far less danger involved with his driving. He remembered the stink that Artemis had torn up the day the two of them had woken up as Solar and Lunar deities, how she had fretted that he could not navigate his way through the empty sky. At the time, when Julius Caesar was just a boy, and the Roman Empire was yet to become what it would be, Apollo had first tried out the mask of overconfidence and youthful arrogance. Hence, he had leaped upon the Chariot and rode across the sky with no training, no guidance, and no ear for his many many siblings telling him to get his ass back to Olympus. He had to prove that he could do it, and he did, with only a small heat wave accompanying. Father had been forced to overrule Artemis’ and Leto’s objections and allow Apollo to have the Sun Chariot.
Not without some small safety modifications added by Hephaestus, which Apollo had complained about loudly and often at the time. Yet, now, he had more mixed feelings about the wish for his safety and the bypassing of his choices.
The Chariot landed safely on a patch he could sense was filled with his sister’s soft-stepping Hunters and a handful of louder children, likely some future Campers. Stepping off, he adjusted his modern visage, that of a young twenty-year-old Californian college student, so he glowed less brightly. It contrasted strangely with his ancient Chariot, but he only ever turned sportscar mode on if he was in the mortal world.
“Hey Artie,” He addressed his sister; looking in the vague direction he could hear an immortal heart pump ichor. “What’s up?”
Then he heard a pair of voices make an exchange from the back of the pack, far too quiet for anyone other than him to hear.
“Wow,” A voice of high-pitched thunder of whistling wind spoke. “Apollo is hot.”
“He’s the sun god,” He knew that voice. Percy Jackson. What is he doing with Artemis?
“That’s not what I meant.” Is this Thalia, his Father’s returned demigod daughter? She had the voice of Father’s demigods.
Apollo’s ears were swiftly angled to hear more, but the two appeared to have shut up. This was unfortunate because as much as he liked hearing compliments about himself, he liked overhearing things about others even more. He’s the god of Knowledge, after all.
“Don’t call me that,” Artemis called back.
Yeah, she is definitely not happy with having a boy in the group, and whatever else is involved, because she sounded stressed. Artemis never complains about him calling her Artie unless they’re in front of those who aren’t family or her Hunters.
“Sure,” He agreed easily enough. It was winter and his driving had been interrupted and he has had a very tiring past few years. “What do you need? Did the mp3 player I gave you for the Stymphalians break again?”
“I need a favor,” She replied instead, which was what he was expecting. Of course, she just needs a ride and he’s the most convenient. It’s not like she hasn’t been avoiding him nearly all year. “I have some hunting to do, alone, I need you to take them to Camp.”
“Alone?” He frowned. That meant something that she didn’t trust anyone else to get hurt hunting. Always the one to think she could do things better by herself… which she usually could, but it tended to sting to be left out of his older sister’s plans.
“It’s none of your business,” She snapped.
Alright, something was definitely wrong.
“We share hunting, sis,” He coaxed. “C’mon, I know you hate your baby brother cramping your style, but I can totally help track–”
“I don’t need you,” Artemis turned around, her boots scuffing leaves as her heels scraped the dirt. “It’s not like you can see what I’m looking for.”
He heard her flinch before he even registered his own.
Vaguely, he heard a Hunter gasp, and Thalia mutter an ‘ouch.’
“Fine,” His face shut down, glow disappearing and leaving only the cold winter air. The sun was behind the clouds, and he wasn’t letting it out. Let Artemis hunt in the dark. “I’ll cash this favor in later. Dinner with mom together sounds great, don’t you think?.”
It sounded awful, but he knew that Artemis would have a much worse time than he would.
His sister didn’t answer, instead running into the woods.
“Great,” He said sarcastically. “Everyone pack up and hop onboard, I guess.”
Zoe, with her ichor veins and scent of drakons, cautiously appeared at his elbow. “My lady did not mean it.”
“I know that,” The worst thing is, he isn’t sure if that’s true. Artemis lived with the fact that she blinded him every day, and he knew she thought of the possibilities of another life.
“Do thee?” He could almost imagine the look she was giving him. The sculpt of muscles as they contorted into pity. He thinks he might even be able to paint it.
Anger flared in him. He was a god, and he was perfect. How dare she pity him?
“Do you think that the reason why you and my sister get along so well is that you can never forgive yourself either and so you lash out at men for resembling your regret?”
She gave out a draconian hiss and stomped away to lick her wounds far from his senses.
Which… did not make him feel better. f*cking great. Artemis and Zoe are pissed at him now.
He sighed, fiddling with what was sometimes a pair of car keys, sometimes a guitar pick, and sometimes an epipen. The Chariot had transformed into a school bus, fit to carry all thirty hunters plus the four add-ons.
“This is so cool!”
Apollo absolutely did not jump at the little kid voice coming from elbow height. He didn’t. And if you think he did, then he would like to counter by asking why this latest generation of demigods are so sneaky?
“What?” He turned his face down at the strange child who seemed completely unbothered by him.
“Is this really the sun? I thought Helios and Selene were the sun and moon gods. How come sometimes it's them and sometimes it's you and Artemis?” The child (boy?) continued to babble. It’s voice had the same grating rocks of most earth gods, so he had no idea whose child this was.
“Uh, downsizing?” He said. “I was the light and then I was the light of the seasons and all of a sudden Greeks and Romans were calling me the sun god… I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I’m Nico di Angelo!” The boy seemed just happy to be there, which was an unusual sentiment for… well, most people. “Are you really blind? Why are you wearing sunglasses?”
“Excuse me?”
A demigod broke away from the rest and snatched Nico, shoving him behind him. “Right, that’s enough! Nico, why don’t you go help Grover?”
Percy seemed pretty desperate to keep the boy from getting smote, which, while admirable, was not very likely, even when Apollo was in a mood.
“Is he new?” He ended up asking the other boy instead.
Percy’s heart sped up slightly, a small tinge of sweat in the air. “Uh, yeah. We just found him and his sister. He’s… got a lot of questions.”
“I can tell,” Apollo relaxed, teasing singing in his tone. “Questions are good; just make sure he doesn’t ambush the wrong god with those.”
Percy’s heart rate slowed, his breathing evening out. “Got it. Keep him far away from Mr. D, thanks.”
There’s a satyr in the group, the wisp of fur was obvious against Nico’s clothing. The satyr sounds like he is herding the kid onto the Chariot, which is good and will keep him from trouble. Apollo has learned with Hermes that, the younger they are, the more likely they are to get in trouble.
“How’s your poetry going?”
“Huh?” Percy’s head whipped around, his hair disrupting the wind. His black hair, which is a fact that he knows now.
“Last time we met, I told you to try out poetry.” Apollo arched an eyebrow over his dark red sunglasses, heavy mist and magic hiding his missing eyes from all. “Don’t tell me you forgot?”
“Sorry,” Blood rushed to the surface of Percy’s skin, vessels contracting and expanding.
“Mortal memories,” Apollo sighed into the crisp cold air. “Always fallible. Should I remind you again, or will you have a poem ready for me next time we meet?”
The teenager shuffled his feet, readjusting a bag’s straps and letting the weight of it thud lightly against his back. The Chariot was nearly filled now, only them and a pair of Hunters yet to climb aboard.
“You think we’ll meet again?”
Apollo grinned, “God of Knowledge and Prophecy, Perce. I know all.”
Percy’s answer startled a laugh out of him, not expecting the automatic reply from the impulsive teen. “But you don’t see all.”
Look, Apollo is more than used to people throwing his blindness in his face. Most times, it was just annoying. A few times, it hurt. But sometimes, when it was just him and his uncle joking around, it was hilarious.
And Percy sounded just like Poseidon did, all those years ago when Apollo first met him. Poseidon had asked Father if he was sure Apollo was his, because it tended to be Poseidon’s children that were missing eyes. Leto had tried to attack the sea god and had to be held back by Artemis and Athena, but Apollo had just laughed. It wasn’t meant to be mean or to remind him of his weakness; it was just to state a simple fact about the universe.
“Sorry!” Percy spluttered as Apollo cackled. “That was rude!”
“That was brilliant!” He corrected, clapping the boy on the shoulder. “Good one! I see now why people compare to your dad, you have his humor.”
He strode forward, moving toward the Chariot and leaving the teen to his own shock.
He stepped twelve steps towards the East wind and his sister when he landed, then three to the North as he spoke to Zoe, One more to the North with Nico, and then he stepped twice back to the West and his Chariot with Percy. Retracing his steps, he returned to the door perfectly, not even bumping a toe or elbow.
“Hey, Zoe,” He called as he climbed aboard.
The Huntress was sitting at the front, and her voice echoed against the windows, vibrating with unconcealed hatred. “What?”
He tossed the keys in his hand in her general direction. The clinked against the hand of a Huntress that had sat next to her– Iphigenia, if he recognized the deer-like reflex properly— and was handed over to the lieutenant. “You’re driving.”
It was a peace offering, one that Zoe easily recognized. As one of Artemis’ very first hunters, she knew how to drive the Moon Chariot, and, at points over the centuries, joined his sister when she drove his Sun Chariot. Likewise, Artemis allowed him to drive the Moon Chariot for her at times, but due to its lack of safety features, always insisted that one of her huntresses accompanied him, and Zoe was the huntress least likely to be afraid of snatching the reigns from him. Not that she’s had to do so.
“Good,” She said shortly after a long pause, standing up with a creak of pleather seats. “It is thine duty to watch over the boys.”
“Yep,” He agreed genially. “C’mon boys and satyr, back of the bus time, far away from these badass ladies.”
Percy didn’t make a sound as Apollo grabbed him and used him as a guide to the back of the busy bus. Only muttering a quiet warning of “bag” when he was about to trip over Phoebe’s bag. And he knew it was Phoebe’s because, in the past five hundred years, that girl still hadn’t managed to remember that Artemis kept her campsites tidy and uniform just in case for Apollo.
Apollo flopped down in the middle of the back row, spreading and lounging in a way that would have his sisters complaining. “So what’s up, Campers?”
Instead of a proper answer, Nico di Angelo made a reappearance from… the floor for some reason?
“Why do you have Daredevil glasses?”
Apollo internally sighed, recognizing that his quiet day had been completely and utterly hijacked. “One of my kids based Daredevil on me. Next question.”
That was the wrong thing to say, but it was right, too. The kid was a delight, even if his curiosity would make even Hermes wince.
He wondered if his brother knew what was going on with Artemis. If Artie had been ignoring him, and Hermes had been ignoring him, then surely they might have been ignoring him together, right?
Surely, they were just holding some secret from him or something. They didn’t actually think he was too incompetent to help him.
Surely.
