#beckenlena

[karenhikari]

A Real Union

Alternal Universe in one of our favorite couples from Percy Jackson really gets a wedding.

They were getting married.

After all that they had endured, after the battle against Kronos was over, after those horrible moments during the war in which they had thought they would lose the other one, they were getting married.

Silena Beauregard and Charles Beckendorf. A child of Aphrodite and a child of Hephaestus. They sure were an unorthodox couple, but one united by a very strong love nevertheless.

In the perfect picture that they were thinking of –the two of them together in the altar, making vows of eternal love– there was one single flaw though: their parents.

Not the mortal ones, those were quite proud of the great event and had greeted their new daughter and son-in-law quite easily. But those weren’t the problem. The real trouble was getting their divine parents to attend.

Either of them –but Aphrodite in special– hadn't been thrilled, and though both Hephaestus and Aphrodite had received their invitations months earlier, none had confirmed their assistance. And the wedding would take place just a few days later.

At first, Charles and Silena had expected them to be the first ones to Iris message or to look for them and try to talk, but weeks had gone by and either of the gods seemed closer to do that than what they had been at the start.

That was the reason why they had decided to take the first step: they were going to try talking to them and persuade them of assisting.

It seemed quite ironic and weird–a son and a daughter trying to get their own father and mother to attend their wedding.

Anyhow, if that was the way the gods wanted it to be, it could be solved.

Silena and Charles had talked about it and had decided that Silena would invite Aphrodite to the apartment they both shared and talk with her while he Iris messaged his father and tried pretty much the same with him.

Said and done, Silena had sent an invitation for Aphrodite, which she had agreed to accept, once the girl had assured that Charles had some pendants and it would be just the two of them.

Being the person–would it be more accurate to say goddess?–her mother was, she had soon began with the real topic that had made her call her mother.

Still, things weren’t going as planned.

"But Mother it's my wedding!" screamed the young girl, as she followed her mother, same that was heading towards a mirror, more preoccupied about her lipstick than she was about what her daughter was saying.

"I think I've already told you that if he's assisting then I'm not going to be there." Aphrodite pointed out, while she ran a hand through her silky hair, looking at the image the mirror reflected.

"Mother, I'm getting married!" she exclaimed, surprised at the indifferent way her mother was treating her with.

"I know, Silena." She said sternly. "Congratulations."

She was taken aback by her mother's answer. "What's your problem?" She asked, her voice getting louder and higher. "Your stupid pride is more important than your daughter? Is that it?"

"Silena, it's not about you, it's about him." Aphrodite pointed out, rather exasperated.

"Well, he is not the one that you'll be there for!" Silena snapped back, almost screaming. "It's your daughter's wedding! You should be proud!"

"Ohh, sweetheart, and I am." She said, in a high pitched tone of voice. "I just think that you could have gotten something bett-"

"Don't you dare, Mother! Don't you dare!" She screamed, raising her voice with every word, feeling her blood start boiling with rage. "I love him, what's the hard part to understand?"

"Why are you marring an Hephaestus' child" Aphrodite said, matter-of-factly, in a voice that wanted to say 'it's the most obvious thing in the world'.

"Because I love him! That's enough reason, Mother! Why can't you understand? Have you ever been in love?" She asked, almost pleading for the slightest bit of comprehension in her mother.

"Of course I have!" Aphrodite said in a high voice, her voice showing how indignant she felt. "It was like 300 years ago." The goddess' voice acquired a soft tone, and her eyes stayed looking at the horizon dreamily, the corners of her lips in a swift smile. "He was handsome, kind, young..." She stopped and blinked, coming back to reality a little too soon for her taste. "And a mortal." She finally added, a little tiredly. "But that's not the point, sweetheart."

"Exactly, mother!" Silena agreed, angrier at each passing moment, mad at her mother and her pride, that was stronger than the affect the goddess felt towards her. "You know love. You know you can't control it. Then why won't you come?"

"Because" Aphrodite explained, her voice sounding tired, with a tone that said 'I’ve told you this a thousand times' "you expect me to be with him, and I don't want to!" She snapped, turning to look at her daughter in the eye.

"Well, he's my soon-to-be father-in-law, he's supposed to be there! Just like you!" Silena yelled back.

"Ohh!" Aphrodite exclaimed, in a tone that suggested she had just been hurt. "You are defending him over your own mother!" She screamed.

Silena's lips opened in an 'o', her face showing an expression of a surprise and indigence. Usually, she wouldn't know what to answer. Usually, she wouldn't yell at her mother or contradict her. Usually wasn't this time and for once, she knew what to say.

"I'm not defending no-one over nobody! I'm defending my family from both of you!" She screamed angrily. "Listen, Mother." She said, turning serious. "For you it may be just another of your daughter's weddings. You may have had like a hundred children over the years and this is just another of their weddings. But for me, for me it's my wedding!" She screamed, finally letting her thoughts out.

"Oh, baby" Aphrodite began, softening her voice a little, though it only made her words sound more faked. "That's why divorces are for." She offered, surprisingly with comprehension in her voice. That only made Silena madder.

"What?" She murmured, indignantly. "I can't believe it. I can't believe it!" She said, her voice turning louder with each word. "You know what? Screw it. Screw you and your pride! I don't care anymore! You don't want to come?" She defied. "Then don't! I don't care! But get this straight, Aphrodite" she hissed. It was the first time she called her mother by her name, and though a part of her felt guilty, she couldn't deny it was the goddess' fault. "I love him! I love him with all my heart and nothing you can do will change that! Period!" She snapped before turning on her heals and walking away, closing the door of the room with an angry 'thump'.

"Silena!" Aphrodite called, but her daughter's steps were already fading in the distance. Indignantly, she vanished into a pink cloud that smelled like roses, returning to her spot in the Empire State, in the Olympus.

Some hours later, Beckendorf tried talking to his father through an Iris message, hoping to convince him of assisting his wedding.

Charles thought it would be easier to speak with Hephaestus than to speak with Aphrodite, but still, his father wasn't an orthodox or predictable man–or god anyways.

He couldn't understand how could pride mean so much for them. The problem wasn't seeing the other god, was it? They were married after all; they saw each other frequently and would for eternity. The problem was to see the other one and understand that they were not just husbands anymore, that that wasn't the only string that tied them together now, but that now they were mother and father-in-law-of-one's-daughter and son.

To see that one of their children was now related to the one they hated so much.

Still, Charles was positive on something. Silena and him could or could not get their parents' blessings, but they were getting married either way.

Therefore, if Aphrodite and Hephaestus decided that their pride wasn't worth losing their children's happiness–great, they would be welcomed in the celebration and two chairs would be placed for them; but if they didn't, then the chairs could remain empty, for all he cared.

It wasn't that he didn't want his father to be present. He did, really. And Silena sure wanted to see Aphrodite there, it was already bad enough that the bride's mother wasn't helping her chose the dress and flowers, not even stepping would likely break a bit of his girl's heart. That was the reason they were trying one more time to convince their parents to attend, though he wasn't feeling very positive about it. But a little trying wouldn't hurt anybody, right?

He sent one golden Drachma into the water drops that the garden hose sent into the air. 'To Hephaestus.' he said in his mind 'God of Fire and Forging.'

The golden coin disappeared and the arc that the drops made in the air blurred, before clearing again to show the back of a huge man, leaning over table, working in something. In front of him a huge furnace with big, orange-and-red flames that lighted up the room.

For Charles it was easy to imaging the heat, and though through the Iris message he could just see it and not feel it, he started sweating.

He coughed, trying to bring his father's attention to him.

Hephaestus stretched his back and turned around. He was a tall person, but one of his shoulders stood higher than the other one. His face, hands and arms were covered in scars and burns and his long beard, though it wasn't burning at the moment, had parts that had been in fire recently. His dark eyes, the same shadow than his, shone brightly when he recognized him.

"Charles" he said, his voice a statement more than a question. His son nodded, trying to find the words to tell his father what he had planned to, but he couldn't bring himself to now that his father was looking at him.

It proved unnecessary when Hephaestus talked again. "I know what you're gonna say" he declared tiredly. "And the answer's no."

"What?" He murmured in surprise, not only because of his father's answer, but also because of its bluntness.

"I'm not assisting." Hephaestus replied, completely serious.

"Why?" He dared to ask, deciding he could mimic his father's objectiveness, since there was no point on putting up a fuss and do some chatty-talking if both knew what the other one was up to.

A pause followed and then the god answered slowly. "I have work to do. I'm fixing Athena's sword. Again." He explained. 'Again' meaning the last time had been over 250 years earlier.

"I'm sure she could wait a couple of days." He pointed out. "She has eternity to." His statement made his father's lips curl into a grimace, while his eternal frown deepened, showing that his child's response had unsettled him.

"Probably." He accepted. "But I'm still busy here, Charles." He defended, not giving in.

"And you don't want to see Aphrodite." Beckendorf pointed out.

Hephaestus' frown continued to deepen, and the flames that blazes behind him made him look even more dangerous. Charles second-thought if he should have pulled him, but it was too late to regret it now.

"And I don't want to see her." Hephaestus answered. "But mostly, I'm busy." He repeated, though by now it was more than obvious that he was just making up excuses.

"Just a short while." He suggested. It was probably unwise to pull a god—that already looked at him angrily—in the slightest bit, but this was the only chance he would have in a long while to meet his father.

His fatter looked at him strongly, sternly. Deeply. Almost as if inspecting him, trying to tell if he was mocking at him; in the end, he decided it wasn't the case.

He sighed heavily before answering. "I'll see what I can do, Charles." He replied tiredly, almost reluctantly.

Well, that wasn't what a usual father would answer to his son's invitation to something as overrated as a wedding, but it was something. It was better than what most demigods could get. So, Charles would take that as it was, an opportunity.

"We'll be waiting for you." He replied, before giving the Iris message as concluded.

"I told you I have-" Hephaestus started, but the image of his son was already blurring out and he was alone in his forges again.

Once the image of his father's forge was lost, Charles sighed tiredly himself, before entering his apartment.

He just hoped that Silena had had better luck than him with her divine parent, though it seemed unlikely.

Said and done, he found Silena in the living room, dropped over the biggest couch, her right hand flopped over her eyes, giving her a tired appearance.

"How did it go?" He asked, with a voice that mimicked her soon-to-be-bride's appearance.

"Charlie!" She squealed, jumping in the sofa and sitting on it after she fell again. "You scared me!" She nagged.

"Sorry." He offered.

"No harm done." She replied, sighing slightly after she finished talking. They stared at each other's eyes, before she finally answered. "Bad." She said. "I may have yelled at her a bit, so I think she's mad now." She explained. "And I don't think she's coming." She concluded.

They paused, breaking the eye contact and looking at the floor instead.

"How about Hephaestus?" Silena asked tentively.

Charles repressed a sigh. "Not that better." He answered. "He said he has to fix Athena's sword or something. ‘He’s busy'." he repeated, rolling his eyes.

They looked in the eye again, silently. Until finally, a smile tugged at the corner of Silena's lips.

"You know," she said, standing up to be slightly taller, though Charles was still a good five inches taller. "If they don't want to come it's their problem. What matters is we are getting married. And that's all we need to know." She stated seriously. But all that formality in her features just made her look like a little girl trying to seem older, which made Charles smile too, looking at her tenderly.

"True." He said, leaning forward to kiss her in the lips, though, to fasten the moment, she stood on tip-toe, reaching for him, his familiar scent making her forget her past argument with her mother. His hands looked for her waist and brought her closer to him while her hands encircled his neck.

When they finally separated they breathed heavily. They smiled at each other, all the bad news forgotten.

"Any news from Camp?" Silena asked cheerfully.

"Well, Percy Iris messaged me like an hour ago." He offered. "Nothing important. Just to ask if I was at the camp to fix him his shield again. I sent him with Jake." He said. "You?"

"Talked with Drew yesterday." She replied. "There's a sick pegasi and she asked what she could do. In the end, I told her to better go with someone from Apollo's."

They continued chatting about unimportant things, just pleased with the fact that they were next to each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The big day was tomorrow, Aphrodite remembered while she looked at herself in the mirror, painting her lips a bright red.

She should go. She should go.

She knew, but she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud. 'She needs you' said a voice in her head. 'She needs to see you there. It's important for her.' She rolled her eyes, in an I-know-that manner. 'She's your daughter,' continued that annoying voice. Her tight hand, that held the red lipstick, trembled and a strain of red appeared next to the corner of her mouth; the only flaw in her perfect body.

"I get it!" She mumbled, her voice covered in honey, but holding angriness deep down. "I'll go." She said. "I'll go just for a moment." She said reluctantly. Then, snapping her fingers, she made the strain of paint disappear, her pale face perfect again. "I just hope I don't have to see him” she muttered.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tomorrow was Charles' wedding, Hephaestus remembered, while he leaned into the furnace, taking something that seemed like the left hand of some artifact out and then submerging it in a bucket filled with water, hot vapor filling the room, though he didn't even flinch or blink, so used had he come to it.

He should probably attend. Probably, just probably.

What he'd said wasn't a lie. He was busy, but it wasn't as if he couldn't spare a few hours to see one of his sons marrying an Aphrodite's daughter.

He had no problem with the bride Charles had chosen. She was a nice girl. Her name . . . was it Selene? Selena? No, that was not it. Silena? Silena, right? Yup, that was her name.

He had no problem with her, or with their wedding, at all. The problem was with the bride's mother. Though he was married to her and he would see her anyways. He was just trying to avoid an awkward moment for the other guests, by either just looking at him or at Aphrodite and him arguing.

Therefore, he wasn't assisting. It was for the others’ sake that he did so. But this time, he wasn't believing it either. He did want to go. It was his sons's wedding after all. He was just avoiding an uncomfortable moment for himself. And he did have work to do.

Still, he couldn't help but remember the way Charles' eyes sparkled when he talked about that girl. He'd been in love once, too. With Aphrodite. Like two thousand years ago, sure, but he'd been. And his eyes had looked the same way.

He wasn't saying that Charles' marriage was going to end up as bad as his, no, there was a huge difference between both marriages, and it was that this time, Silena loved Charles as much as he did, meaning they would be together no matter what.

But that wasn't answering if he would attend or not. He could see his son and his wife anytime he wanted after the wedding, but it wouldn't hold the same meaning. He hadn't given his blessing to his son's marriage aloud, although he approved.

If he was there, that meant he was with them since the beginning, not that he had had second thoughts and decided that his son's wedding was fine with him after all.

In the end, it all lead to the same answer. 'You should attend.'

Athena, as Charles had pointed out, could wait a couple of days to have her sword back.

He would assist.

And if Aphrodite was there, which was unlikely either way, they just needed to be sited apart and that was it. He would assist.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Like most demigods, there would be no church service, simply the paper signing and then the celebration.

And due to their decision problems, their divine parents arrived short after the papers had been signed.

Both gods couldn’t help but notice the extreme irony of their current situation.

They had both materialized in the exact same spot of the party hall with a difference of seconds, Aphrodite having been the first to appear, dressed in a beautiful heel-long pink and red dress, her hair a curly light brunette. Big was her displeasure when a few seconds after her, her husband appear right in front of her.

They kept silent for a couple of minutes, staring at each other blankly, until Aphrodite talked.

"I understand you were not coming?" She said, matter-of-factly.

"I thought the same." Hephaestus stated. "At least my son didn't lie to me."

That stole an indignant expression from his wife. "Silena didn't lie. I just expected not to see you." She replied, scornfully.

"Well, I'm not thrilled either." He answered, using the same venomous tone.

They both felt silent, an awkward one, the one of a couple that was obliged to be together for eternity when they couldn't bring themselves other than to hate the other one, to hate the other one hugely, dearly, in a revulsion that grew at each passing minute.

Before, the only thing they had in common was their marriage, well, that and the fact that Aphrodite had appeared from Saturn's blood drops, who was Hephaestus' great-grandfather. But now, a daughter of Aphrodite was getting married to a child of Hephaestus, and they were just in front of them: Silena, dressed in a long white dress that send sparkles every time she moved, which she was doing a lot, because she kept laughing and nodding, next to her, Hephaestus' son smiled, holding her close, dressed in a black tuxedo, a black bow around his neck. For Aphrodite's slight displeasure, her daughter didn't seem disgusted by the other's touch in the least.

Suddenly, a voice in her head nagged her at her for being so selfish.

She was the goddess of love! Couldn’t she see just how happy Silena was? How her eyes sparkled when she was with that boy, or when she saw him, or when she simply talked about him? If that wasn’t love, then she herself, as goddess as she was and as many thousands of years as she counted, didn’t know what was.

"He was lucky to marry someone like her." Aphrodite said aloud, without even noticing, her voice holding a hint of disdain, but also one of jealously. Her daughter was getting married after all, didn’t she have the right to be resentful of the one who took away her little girl?

Hephaestus snorted out almost with humor. That was his wife after all, he’d been with her for thousands of years, everything of her, he knew, her words weren't insults anymore, just opinions. And if that was the game she wanted to play, he would answer with the equivalent.

"She was lucky to find someone that loves her for herself and not her body." He snapped back, almost hissing. Aphrodite just pressed her lips together, in a thick line, saying nothing. After a minute or two, she finally answered.

"Yes. She was." She mumbled lazily, in an I-don't-want-to-say-it manner.

They felt silent again, while the cold air of the night swirled around them, making Aphrodite's long, silky hair fly in graceful whirlwinds.

"Just for you to know" Hephaestus snapped sternly after what seemed five minutes. "I approve of their marriage."

Aphrodite answered nothing and just moved her head indignantly to her left side.

"I approve of anything that makes her happy." She finally gave in.

That settled, part of the awkwardness seemed to drift away. Maybe it was because through the years they had learned to coexist, to be next to the other one without wanting to kill him; they were immortal, anyways.

They hated each other nevertheless, but since 500 years till now, they had decided in a unspoken agreement that there was no point in arguing over the same for forever, so they mostly ignored each other now, no arguing, no fighting, just keeping distance.

They both kept their eyes lost in the horizon, looking forward, to their children.

Silena, held by Charles, his right arm around her waist, her left around his, her head dropped over his right shoulder lazily, completing the other one perfectly, like the two pieces of the same puzzle that simply were meant to be together. Both smiling while they talked to another couple, in which Aphrodite recognized a daughter of Ares', Clarissa or something like that. Their eyes shone brightly with love and happiness.

The uncomfortable air came back.

Though they were married, they had no kids together, and though some of the kids of either of them had certainly gotten married with someone else, they hadn't witness the wedding of one of their children in company of the other god.

This time it wasn't the case either, because it wasn’t a child of both of them the one that was getting married, but they felt somehow similar.

A child of both cabins was celebrating a wedding, after all, and even if it wasn't the same child the one they were parents to, there was a child from the two of them, and both gods felt proud of what their kids had achieved, because even if they wouldn't admit it, the one that both Silena and Charles had chose, wasn't a bad mate, if only they could ignore their divine parents.

"I'll go talk with them." Hephaestus said, while he stepped forward, walking to meet with the happy couple, that talked between each other now, because Chris and Clarisse were now gone.

Aphrodite saw how her husband approached the couple as they stopped talking. When the god stepped into their visual camp the two demigods turned to look at him.

"Father" Charles greeted, his voice holding an instance of emotion that wasn't negative. It was then that Silena turned, smiling. For a moment, Hephaestus scrutinized the girl's face, trying to find a hint of sarcasm or taunt, but there wasn't, her smile was as sincere as it could be; she didn't even flinch when their eyes met, and unlike any of the other heroes he had met, she didn't send any 'discreet' glances to his multiple scars. He was liking this girl more and more.

"Nice to meet you, Hephaestus." She said, with a voice all-honey that was somehow similar to Aphrodite's, but that had a character of her own. He simply nodded.

"I just wanted to tell you that you have my blessing." He stated, blankly, emotionless.

The couple smiled and nodded to each other.

"We both thank you, Hephaestus." Silena said, making her smile bigger.

"If you can, it would be nice that you stayed." Charles offered, not pointing directly to the 'I have work to do' part, but for the three of them it was pretty obvious that he was referring to it.

"No" the god answered. "I can't stay. But I wanted to tell you this, now that I have, I may leave." He concluded. He actually so how the eyes of the girl lost a part of their light.

"Well" she finally said "anyways, you know how to find us, our house is your home also." She said, her voice filled with joy. Well, that certainly was something that none of the other girl’s his sons had married had said to him before. So far, she was already his favorite daughter-in-law. How ironic everything was, he thought bitterly, that the one girl he thought he would have hated was the one he liked the most.

“I probably will, Silena” he replied and nodded as a farewell, before disappearing into a cloud of smoke, heading back to his forges.

Shortly after Hephaestus had disappeared, Aphrodite joined the couple, her perfect body giving the image of not walking, but gracefully sliding over the ground instead.

“My, my” the goddess said “I have to say this is one of the most elegant weddings I’ve ever assisted.”

“Mother!” Silena said, too surprised to see the goddess there.

“Well, I couldn’t afford to not see you in your great day just for Hephaestus now, could I?” she said, her voice not hiding scornful traces for once. “Sorry about that” she offered, turning to her now-son-in-law “Charles, right?” she asked, smiling beautifully. He simply nodded. She extended her right hand for him and he shook it, a little sternly.

“Are you staying?” Silena asked hopefully.

“Oh, no, sweetheart. I can’t” Aphrodite said, a slight wrinkle appearing in her brow. “Wish I could, dear, but Hera is expecting me for dinner, and you know her character.” She explained, rolling her beautiful blue eyes. “But I’ll have to visit soon, okay? If you’re not bothered” she offered, turning to her husband’s son.

“It’ll be our pleasure to receive you in our house” he said, smiling at the goddess. She nodded, while she scanned him with critic eyes “Take care of my girl, understand?” she threatened.

Still, Charles nodded. “Take that for granted, Aphrodite.”

Once that was settled, the joyful image of the goddess’ features was back, the stern look completely lost. Charles realized how similar Silena was to Aphrodite when she did that.

“Well, as far as I hate it” Aphrodite said “I have to go.”

She leaned down to hug Silena and kissed her in her right cheek, and then she turned to Charles, offering him her right hand again which he took delicately.

He really wasn’t a bad boy after all, Aphrodite thought as she snapped her fingers and disappeared, heading back to the Olympus. At least he was strong enough to protect her girl. And he knew how to treat a lady.

Once both their parents were gone, they both turned to look at each other and smiled, bursting into laughter soon after. That was what they’d been looking for since the very beginning. A real union, not a faked one.

At least the knowledge of their parents approving of the one that their hearts had chosen. They would have been together anyways, because after all, either Hephaestus or Aphrodite could get into their relationship, but the approval of their parents was something both Charles and Silena looked forward to, and they wanted to be able to organize family parties without fearing a stupid outburst from one of the gods.

What they’d wanted was for their parents to leave hate and pride behind for the sake of their happiness.

A real union between both families. And in the end, that was what they’d gotten.

[karenhikari]

Elysium

Spoilers for The Last Olympian.

Short story about how Silena and Charles meet in the Underworld. I was reading fanfics on this two characters when I realized that in many of then, people asume that both were sent to this part on the Underworld, plus, in some they say that when Silena died, she knew Backendorf had been sent there because Nico told her. I realized this is practically impossible because Nico and Silena didn't meet after Charles' death. I simply had to write this. 

I opened my eyes and bumped into darkness. I gasped for air violently, taking one hand to my chest, pained. I wasn’t sure of where I was. I didn’t know what had happened, I couldn’t remember anything.

And then it all came back, in a heart-beat—I was Silena Beauregard, demigod from Aphrodite’s cabin. I had just been injured during the battle against Kronos. A drakon had wounded me badly, very badly to be . . . alive.

Looking around, I could see I was in front of a river. I recognized it soon, when I saw all the things that the tide carried with it—dolls, pictures, roses, college diplomas, toys, all the dreams that people let go when they died. The Styx River. The one in which Thetis had sunk her son Achilles to make him invulnerable, leaving just his tendon as a weak point, which had been the only way to kill him back to the Trojan War.

I held my breath, finally understanding. I was dead. The wound the drakon had made in my chest had killed me. It had drained out the life of my eighteen-year old body, sending me to the Underworld.

Dead. The word resonated in my head. I was dead. No more pegasus riding, no more Saturday afternoons with my father, no more summers at the Camp.

Dead.

And then something clicked in my head. I was dead. Like Charlie. I could almost feel my heart racing, though it wasn’t beating anymore. I would see him again! After a week of thinking he was irreparably gone I would see him again! Again!

My smile froze. He hadn’t just died. He had been killed. Murdered. And it was my fault.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when a boat appeared sailing through the forsaken river.  It was Charon. He was here to take our souls to Hade’s kingdom—The Underworld.

I boarded. Breathing heavily, though it seemed I was the only one having problems with it—I didn’t need to anymore, but I kept forgetting it.

I wanted to see him. I wanted to see Charlie so, so badly it hurt, even if I wasn’t supposed to feel anymore.

And then a fact made its way to my head. He was a hero. He had lived as one and had died as one. He had been one. He was going to pass eternity at the Elysium. I was a traitor. I deserved to spend eternity in Tartarus, to suffer endless pains, though my guilt and my own regrets already haunted me endlessly. Charlie’s dead had been my fault. Completely mine. For trusting Luke, for not being brave enough to speak up.

I would be sent to some other place while he stayed at the Elysium. I was truly not going to see him anymore. I felt a whimper trapped in my throat, but there were no tears to shed inside of me. Not anymore. I wasn’t going to see him ever again.

Just once. Please, I prayed, only once. Seeing him, I didn’t ask for more—knew I didn’t deserve it—not to touch him, not to talk to him. Just seeing him was enough.

"One more time" I whispered. "I know I don't deserve it, but there's something I need to tell him. It's not about me" I said. "He needs to know, he has the right to know. After that, my soul can disappear into nothing if that's my punishment. But one more time. Please."

When we arrived to the other side of the Styx I moved through the crowd of souls barely noticing them. I saw the endless rows of dead people than lined up in front of Cancerberus but I didn’t feel anything. Through the whole journey I had been thinking of the fact I was going to spend eternity separated from the one I loved with every bit of me.

It was fair, I had decided. It didn’t seem like that to me at the moment, but it was, in the end. I didn’t deserve to see his beautiful chocolate eyes again. I didn’t, I knew, though was the lowest blow life had ever delivered to me, it was fair. I was a traitor, and I had caused his death, the dead of such a wonderful man.

Most people may have thought that he was lucky to have a girlfriend like me—well, they’re all wrong. I was lucky to have a boyfriend like him. In his life, I was the one that had occasioned tragedy.

In a way, I had killed him.

It was fair. But it still hurt. Guilt, regret, pain, sadness, it all burned in my chest like it had since his death had been announced to me.

I followed the line, distantly, deep in thought, without really caring about the fact that the time to face the three-headed dog and Hades himself was coming closer, oblivious to the many now-dead faces around me, many of them even younger than myself, some not older than toddlers. I didn’t care about anything anymore, I couldn’t bring myself to. Not anymore.

A Fury came to me and told me that since I was a demigod I had the right to jump the lines and see Hades immediately.

Hades. We’re kind of cousins, but as it happens with the whole Olympic family, we don’t just 'don’t keep in touch', but most of the time we just don’t know or don’t care about the others.

Specially gods. They are immortal, which makes them think that everything is everlasting. But we, demigods, are part mortal, we are not undying. And our frailty often makes them laugh with taunt. We are just a sigh in their eternal lives.

I entered a separated room. It had a throne in middle in which the Lord of the Dead was sitting, with a black tunic in which the faces of suffering souls kept moving and transforming. He turned to look at me, seeming bored.

He smiled at me sarcastically. “So you’re Silena Beuregard, right? From Demeter’s?” He asked, coldly.

“From Aphrodite’s” I corrected.

“Yeah, whatever.” He said, and for a moment he almost reminded me of Dionysius, which I found annoying. I had just died, couldn't he be a little nicer? Just a bit?

"Let's do this fast, get it?" He told me bluntly. "Since you showed courage and bravery through your life, I've decided that you are to spend eternity in the Elysium." He said calmly, almost as if talking about the weather. Oh, right, he talks to dead everyday.

I felt my jaw drop in surprise. I was shocked and puzzled. Had I been alive, the air would have been taken out from my lungs.

"B-but I-" I started stuttering, I hate when I do that. It doesn't happen very often, but when I get nervous or I am confused, I do. "I can't!" I finally said, almost in a whisper.

"You can" Hades said, impatiently "And you will because that’s my verdict and it’s final. Now, if you could move on, I still have a lot of dead to deal with."

A hell-hound that hadn't been there seconds ago suddenly materialized and barked at me. Surprisingly, I wasn't afraid. He neared me, but not in a threatening way, he approached keeping his ears down, as if saying 'Sorry, but it's my job' and he pushed me out from the room, leading me to a gate that headed to beautiful garden before disappearing into the shadows again.

There were people from all the past ages, men and women gathered around, talking, training surrounded by tall, beaming trees that were hunched under the weight of their fruit. Beautiful fountains representing pegasus, dryads, nymphs, and other mythological creatures.

The Elysium.

I couldn't be at the Elysium. I was a traitor, a spy, a liar, a killer—not a hero. I should go to the Tartarus and spend eternity there, not to the Elysium.

But, that had been my verdict. I couldn't opine or argue about it with the Lord of the Dead. Still, I couldn't help but feel that I was usurping it.

I walked inside slowly, almost shyly. I expected the heroes that surrounded me to suddenly notice that I shouldn't be there and to get expelled from this beautiful place.

It didn't happen, though. Nobody even turned around to acknowledge my  prescience. Nobody called me 'Traitor!' or 'Liar!'

Maybe I just expected them to because I felt guilty. And I really was a traitor and a liar.

And then I saw him. His back was turned to me and he was talking to someone that seemed suspiciously similar to Hercules. I couldn't breathe for a moment—until I realized I didn't need to.

He was there. Just three meters away from me. I was seeing him again!

A part of me wanted to run straight to him and embrace him and see those beautiful brown eyes he had and hear his voice again.

The other one wanted to turn away and hide forever, for him not to find me again.

I didn't deserve to look at him, I thought. Not after what had happened.

I had seen him. My wish had come true. 'Just seeing him once more' I had begged. And here it was—I'd seen him. Now, as promised, I should leave. But I couldn't. My body wasn't obeying me. I stood there, paralyzed. Completely unable to move.

And then, whether to my good or bad luck I'm not sure, he started to turn around, slowly. I felt the fear build up inside me, the fear and the shame, but also, deeper, the throbbing and pure love I felt towards him, my Charlie, that opaqued everything else.

Our eyes meet, dodging the three-meter distance between us. I realized I was holding my breath.

And his eyes sparkled, recognizing me. I broke the eye contact by turning to look at the floor. I felt myself die . . . again.

Charlie said something to Hercules and then started to walk straight to me. I still couldn't move.

In less than ten seconds he was in front of me beaming.

"Silena?" He said, smiling casually. "What are you doing here? Well, that's stupid. How did you get here?" He corrected, smiling at me openly.

"A-a drakon killed me." I muttered rapidly, my eyes glued to the floor. I heard him sigh heavily.

"You know" he said "it sounds horrible, but I'm glad to see you" he placed his right hand over my shoulder. I lifted my eyes to meet his. Those beautiful dark eyes that looked at me lovingly . . . and trustingly. The tears that I had thought I would never be able to cry and that had been building up behind my eyes since the moment I had seen him were now falling down, silently.

I began to cry, hugging myself. I was so scared now that I had him so close. He didn't know I had betrayed his trust. He didn't know.

"Don't cry, sweetheart" he said gently. "You're gonna be fine. You'll see."

Violent, dry sobs began to climb up my throat and out of my mouth, though I fought to keep them inside, failing miserably.

"You d-don't understand, Ch-Charlie" I started, trying to find my voice in my throat, though it sounded strangled and squeaky.  I-I . . ."

He cut me by pulling me into his strong arms, hugging me tightly to his chest. As if my own stuttering wasn't enough already, I was left with no speak.

Unconsciously I started looking for the even beating of his heart. I couldn't find it. Of course I couldn't find it. He was dead. There was no beating any more. That only made me cry harder and more desperately.

Five minutes when on before I could have a hold on myself again; when I finally stopped sobbing violently, Charlie stepped back, trying to catch a glimpse of my blue eyes, but still, I wouldn't meet his gaze—I couldn't. With his left hand, he gently cupped my face and lifted it, so that our eyes would meet.

"I don't need to" he replied "I don't need to understand to tell you everything'll be alright, Silena." He assured.

Tears began to cloud my sight again, still his words made me smile a smile that maybe looked broken, but that deep down was real. I felt my eyes fall to the ground again, filled with shame and regret.

I could tell that he sensed there was something I wanted to tell him –he always knows when something’s wrong, but I still wasn't ready.

With a sigh, I washed away my tears using the back of my right arm. He waited patiently for me to calm down, looking at me dearly and worriedly.

I didn't want to lose that.

I didn't want him to hate me, or to blame me for his dead and for all the things that I had done. I wouldn't be strong enough to take that, just like I hadn't been strong enough to fight Luke back when I was alive.

I would lose everything rather than him. My life, my family, my friends, my whole memories. Anything but him. If I lost him, then I wouldn't be able to live with myself anymore.

But I probably deserved it.

It was my fault, after all. I was the one that caused Charlie's and maybe even Castor's dead and . . . And I didn't even know how far my weakness had got Kronos' army or how many killings and murders could be blamed on me.

I had to tell him. I had prayed to see him again so I could tell him the truth, and now I had the opportunity. He had the right to know. After all, his dead was my fault. But . . . if he hated me after that . . . I wouldn't be able to take that but . . . if he did . . . I could understand he'd be in his right if he did.

He had the right to know what I had done and he also had the right to hate me afterwards.

I had to be brave, I told to myself. Take the consequences of your own actions, like Father said.

I inhaled deeply, still not looking at him. "Can I . . . Can I talk to you in private?" I asked, while I began to play with my fingers nervously.  

"Sure, baby" he answered, rather puzzled—I didn't act like that around him. He reached for my left hand and started walking, guiding me.

I really wouldn't know the path he guided me through because I kept my eyes down all along, but when we finally stopped and I shyly looked up again we were standing in what seemed a private garden, with a bent next to a brick wall that had a creeper of white and yellow flowers, and, in front of us, there was a little fountain that represented a flying pegasus. We sat in the bent, still holding hands, in silence, for a minute or two until Charlie finally said something:

"We're alone here, Silena" he offered kindly. "Go ahead."

I nodded, but I still let a minute go without speaking, trying to gather the courage to tell him anything. Suddenly, English seemed a very hard language and I couldn't make out any words.

"Charlie, r-remember they said there was a s-spy at the camp?" I started, after sighing heavily.

He nodded. Tears began raining from my blue eyes again, but I had made my decision and I couldn't go back to saying nothing; I had to tell him.

"It was a girl" I said, gulping.

Silence. Again. An expectant silence.

"Don't tell me . . . " He replied, puzzled. "Was it . . .  was it Clarisse?" He asked, shocked.

"What?" I asked with a squeaky voice, completely unsettled, until I understood: Charles was blaming my fault on my best friend! How could I do something like that to a person that I said I loved so much? "No!" I replied, with a look of panic in my features. "She-she would never do something like that!" I stuttered, even more nervous.

"Sorry" he muttered, before I continued.

I still couldn't make up the words, but I discovered, much to my bewilderment that I wasn't nervous anymore. The fact that he was blaming my fault on someone I cared for had made me realize that I had to be honest. It was now or never.

I didn't want him to find out by someone that wasn't myself.

I wasn't crying anymore. I inhaled deeply, stretched my back and began:

"It wasn't her. It was . . ." I told him with a shaky voice. A whimper interrupted me, but I hurried to say it all now that I had found the courage to begin "It was me!" I managed to say, before braking to cry again. Dry, pain-filled whimpers making its way to my throat and making my heart ache, even if it wasn't beating anymore.

He slowly retracted his hand from mine and it hurt me more than everything else, I realized while my sobs stopped. If I lost him, then there was really no point in eternity, if I lost him . . .

At least I had to try to explain myself.

"At first I did it because I was mad at Aphrodite and Hera. They-they're always fighting for something of no importance at all! What Luke thought, what he said—it all seemed . . . somewhat . . . logical. And I became an ally to him because I thought he was right and I wanted to get a little revenge on my mother. I never understood the risks or the trouble I was getting into"

"Then I met Percy. He wasn't mad at Poseidon, when he had a lot of more reasons to actually be upset with his father. And then the battles started and I realized how the ideals that Luke had told me about weren't the whole truth."

"I understood that what he said weren't worth the pain he was causing. But then I started dating you. And he noticed. He said I was looking beautiful, and that he wanted to make me happy. He promised he wouldn't hurt you. He promised he wouldn't hurt you! But he lied! That bastard lied!" I was soon bending under the pressure of the sorrowful whimpers that started emerging from my throat while I buried my face in my hands and cried desperately.

"I'm sorry, Charlie! I'm so, so sorry! I didn't know!” I hiccupped “I-I never thought he'd. . .! I'm s-sorry!" I pleaded "I wanted to save you. You are the person I loved the most in the whole world and I-I oh, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I gasped for air, sobbing "He said that I could save you and I never thought that he would . . .! I was just trying to protect you, I swear! But I failed! I failed miserably! I’m sorry!"

After that, I felt silent. There was nothing else to say, so I just sat there, next to him, hiccupping hysterically and whimpering sorrowfully.

We stayed like that for a minute or two, sitting next to each other, barely a few inches separated—had we been alive, we would have been able to feel the other's body heat, but now the only thing we had left was a feeling if closeness that was being rapidly drained.

And then I understood it. It was an implied message. My Charlie was a hero, he valued trust and respect and responsibility and honesty–and I had none of that, as just proved. I was nothing but a traitor.

He didn't want to have anything to do with someone like me. He didn't want to look at me, to this miserable girl that had ruined everything. He wanted me to leave, but he was just too kind to say it; now I understood.

I got to my feet shakily, trying very hard not to cry any more, but not being completely successful. I'd made my decision, as much as that hurt. He was in his right, and I had to understand it: he wasn't going to forgive me; it was fine, I wasn't going to forgive myself after losing him either.

When I said the words I felt like I was being reaped apart.

"If you don't want to see me anymore I-I understand" I whispered, before standing up and trying to walk away. Before turning around I got a glimpse of his face. It was going to be the last time I saw him. "I love you" I whispered, the words pregnant with pain and an unsaid 'goodbye'.

I had just taken my first step, when I heard him standing rapidly, before he grabbed me by the wrist, enabling me to walk away as I had planned.

"Don't leave, Silena" he whispered, and I was surprised to discover a note of a begging in his voice. "Please don't leave."

"B-but Charlie, I-I . . ."

"Please don't leave." He cut me.

"You don't have to say that, Charlie." I made myself say, but my voice was not louder than a whisper. "If you really don't want t-to see me again I un-understand."

"No, Silena." he replied pronouncing my name lovingly, almost adoringly. "I may be confused right now, but if there’s something I know for sure, it’s that I don't want to lose you. Don't leave, Lena" he said. "Please." He pleaded. He was pleading me not to go! Me! As if that was even necessary!

I bit my lip, trying hardly not to cry.

"It wasn't your fault, Silena." He said, pulling my smaller frame into his arms, squeezing me gently.

When his strong arms encircled me I took a deep breath, though I didn't need to anymore.

I felt safe again. I felt loved.

I let my head rest against his chest, but tears began to fall from my eyes again, though the violent sobs and the sorrowful whimpers were gone. I shyly encircled his waist, expecting him to reject me at the last moment with repulsion, but he didn't.

"It was not your fault, Silena" he repeated, kissing me slightly in the top of the head. "He used you. He lied to you. As he did to all of us. He used your own feelings against you. No one should ever do that, baby. It was not your fault."

Hearing him say that, hearing him say I was innocent, when I was in partly responsible of his own dead, hearing him say he forgave me . . . It meant everything to me.

After something that seemed fifteen minutes, I finally stopped crying. He stepped back, trying to meet his eyes with hers.

"I missed you, baby" he said, looking straight into my eyes with his beautiful dark orbs. "I missed you."

"Oh, Charlie! Oh, Charlie!" I said excitedly, lovingly, jumping to reach for his neck, resting my face in his shoulder, he caught me by the waist, encircling me and bringing me closer to him, hugging me tightly while I buried my head in the curve of his neck, pulling myself closer to his body. "I love you." I whispered. "I love you."

It seemed that the never-ending river of tears that had been raining from I eyes had finally been drained up.

Hope flourished in my heart. Hope and love, pure, strong love.

Suddenly, death didn't seem like something I should be afraid of—not if it could bring Charlie back to me.

I started laughing against his chest. It was a laugh that mixed joy, relief, love and hope, it was almost childish, but I felt so happy that I didn’t care. It was a laugh that made my own chest vibrate and shudder with pure joy. A nervous laugh, one that made it easy to see how worried I had been minutes ago and how relieved I was now.

I could tell Charlie was smiling as well, with his chin resting over my head. He always did that when I laughed or smiled, almost as if he was happy just by seeing me being happy.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, pretending he was mad at me.

“Surely” I replied, following his game while I separated myself from him a little, leaving his arms around my waist and mines around his neck, so that our eyes would meet.

He looked at me with love, with fondness, with adoration. Just a mirror to my own eyes.

He slowly leant over, brushing his lips against mine, in a kiss that was as soft as a butterfly’s wings. It was the sweetest kiss I had ever received, the sweetest and the one fullest with love. A single tear slid down my cheek. It wasn’t a sad one, or a regretful one. It was my witness that everything would be alright.

“Don’t you dare to threat me like that ever again” he whispered, turning serious when we finally separated; though he hadn’t specified I knew he was talking about me saying I would leave him. “I never thought I had a chance with a girl half as wonderful as you are. But I did. If I lose you, baby” he murmured “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, Lena."

His words were so touching for me that I almost felt tears again, but this time, for once, I knew what to say.

“You don’t have fear anything then, sweetheart” I answered, letting a shy smile appear in my lips, a smile that soon was returned by him. The last knot had been undone from my chest; now I could really be at ease “because I wouldn’t be able to stand it without you either, of that I’m sure.”

We stood like that for a moment, looking at each other tenderly, letting the unsaid love words hanging in the air because there was no need to say anything else, comprehension was all we needed, and we had it.

“Well” he said, after some time, smiling brightly at me “guess I should show you the place, miss, if you allow me” he offered, bowing and extending his right hand to me, while his left was neatly placed behind his back. I laughed cheerfully.

“Oh, I will be honored, my gentleman!” I replied, smiling while I took his hand in mine and squeezed.

We started walking through a path of different trees, holding hands.

“I think there’s someone you’ll like to meet, Silena” he said while we bumped into the most beautiful rose bush I had ever seen.

“Me? Whom?” I asked, turning around to look at him, puzzled.

“Penelope” he replied simply. I smiled. Penelope’s and Ulysses’ story is my favorite from Greek Mythology. The reason is simple. In Greek Mythology, most of the legends don’t include love, or at least not a lasting one, but this one does. Penelope is my heroine because she loved her husband so dearly she waited for him during twenty years –ten years during the Iliad and other ten during the Odyssey– even when everyone thought that he was already dead and that she should marry someone else, so that her youth wasn’t spent in mourning. But she didn’t. And she showed everyone that love defeats whatever obstacle it has to face.

“Maybe later” I answered “For now, I’ve found a love story that’s even better.” I told him, smiling fondly at him, squeezing his hand.

We continued walking through the different roads that this beautiful place had, just enjoying each other’s company. Knowing him so close to me made a feeling of calmness and happiness to spread through my whole body.

God, I had missed that; I had missed him. There was nothing else I could have wished for.

My smile enlarged at the thought.

We had each other now. And this time I had each and every day from eternity to be devoted to him. I had him.

Death hadn’t been the end. It was just the beginning for us.

[karenhikari]

Like Orpheus and Eurydice

A short story from Silena's point of view after she lost her boyfriend. Spoilers fromThe Last Olympian.

I really don't know what brought me up to him. Charles Beckendorf.

It was not his handsomeness, sure. But he possessed a rough beauty, an inner beauty that not everyone could see.

Not everything is about that outside beauty, I've learned.

They were handsome demigods here, of course. For example, Luke, if you could ignore his scar or the Stoll brothers, that were also very attractive, or Michael, from Apollo's, that had also some charm. Even Percy was handsome in a way—though it was more that his clumsiness made him look cute, but he sure had some beautiful eyes.

That was not something that my Charlie had—outside beauty, just like his father. Still, he had something else, entirely different.

He was always so nice, so educated, so gentle, so kind. God, he even was nice to that cyclops that apparently is Percy's brother—I can not tell either if it was because his father Hephaestus works with those creatures in his forges or because he wanted someone to talk to about constructing artifacts and that stuff, but even if Tyson hadn't been skilled in the manipulation of metal, he wouldn't have ever been disrespectful to him or stepped back, as others did.

He was always there to help others, in whatever they needed. That's what called my attention first, probably, though I really don't remember.

I came to Camp Half-Blood at the age of fourteen. I was kind of lucky there, I was not that much of a kid anymore, and my childhood had been happy, others came here a lot younger and with many more sufferings than I did, like Annabeth for example, or Percy.

Unlike many other demigods, I had a very good relationship with my father. I was his everything, the center of his universe, his little girl. As a joke, I sometimes think about all of my whips and wonder if they are really fault of my mother, Aphrodite, or of my father, because he always gave me everything I wanted.

Sometimes it gets hard, being Aphrodite's daughter. We live with this stereotype of physical beauty and material interests over emotions. That's not true.

Sure, most of us have some serious problem with buying things we don't really need or with following fashions—yet, it's not something we all share just because of our mother.

We, heroes, all have our debilities that we have to struggle with everyday. Well, ours is that. It's something we can't control when it takes us over. Most people can't understand, but it's true.

The compulsive buying, the necessity of having everything in order, the predilection over pair things, the urge of having the exact earrings for the exact necklace for the exact bracelet for the exact dress, the need of colors that match—people think we act out of vanity, but that's not true. We can't control it, we try, but that's our fatal curse.

And, in the other part of this stupid stereotype, they think we have no heart, people think we prefer material things, that sooner or later end —such as money, dresses, and handsomeness— over emotions, because of our vanity, just because we are Aphrodite's sons and daughters, doesn't it sound unfair? Plus, it's illogical. Aphrodite is not only the goddess of beauty, but also the goddess of love.

There was even this one time, shortly after I started dating Charles when a girl that hadn't been claimed and that finally changed to Kronos' band came to me and started blurting out nonsenses.

She said I was very pretty and that I could have got something better than Beckendorf. She even pronounced his name as if it were something horrible and disgusting. I was so mad, so, so mad.

This stupid girl, that never talked to me had decided to come to opine about and criticize my romantic life! First, why did she had to come and talk about things that were none of her buisness? And second, couldn't she see I didn't want anything other than Charlie? I left without even bothering to answer and spent the rest of my day mad at everyone.

I loved Charles because of so many reasons that for short, I always said I loved him just because he was him. He was a hard worker, he was polite, he was brave, so, so brave—he was a hero, my hero.

I know it's ridiculous and I know it sounds stupid and I know that women shouldn't think of things like this because its opposite to feminism, but when I looked at him I really wished I was a princess trapped up in a high tower and guarded by a huge dragon, just for seeing him appear to save me. He would have done that over and over again if necessary, just to prove me that he loved me.

I knew, when I looked straight into his dark eyes that he loved me so much and so tenderly, that sometimes I wondered, what in the name of Olympus had I done to deserve a love so big. I also knew I loved him as well, with everything I had, with every single bit of me, with every beat of my heart, with every sigh, with every fragment of my soul.

When he talked to me, his eyes sparkled. When I thought about him, I unconsciously started to smile and everything seemed better and positive. Just talking to him made the world brighter.

I'm the daughter of Aphrodite, goddess of love, so I knew it, I always knew it.

It was love. True, honest, pure, lasting love. Like the one that Orpheus and Eurydice shared. The one that lasts forever and defeats every single barrier.

We made so many plans, together. Everything we could think as a future included the other one, as a partner, as a companion, as the other half of our world.

You know, it's funny, because most people think gods are perfect, but that's just another stereotype. We, demigods, know just how imperfect they are.

I could say, for example, turning my dialogue into a metaphor, that I wanted to be the Hera in Charlie's Olympus, implying that he'd me my Zeus, god of my heart and universe, as corny and pinkish as that sounds. But let the gods free me from such a horrible destiny!!

Hera and her husband Zeus may be the most known married couple in Olympus—but not because of how much they love each other!

Hera sent her own son, blood of her blood, flesh of her flesh, flying down from Olympus just because she didn't like his physical appearance. And that was the very same father of Charlie, Hephaestus.

Likewise does my mother, Aphrodite. She may be the goddess of love and everything, but her romantic life is a mess. Not only is she married and is untrue to her husband, but she doesn't even try to hide it! With that, her husband, and every other single creature knows about her infidelity, and sometimes I even think she's proud of it. She refuges saying that she doesn't love her husband and that they obliged her to marry him, if she has to give any reasons for her acting.

But that's not it yet. Her husband, the one she's unfaithful to, it's not other than the same Hephaestus Hera sent down from Olympus! Yup, that's right, my mother is married to Charlie's father, though they dislike each other, in the end.

And the same goes for Persephone and Hades.

Sometimes I even wonder if gods are capable of feeling a love so deep. They don't spend time with their mortal sons and daughters, fine. But they are married to immortal people, just like them! They'll spend centuries, and more than that, eternity, with each other!

Can they not feel love? Or do they  not even try?

As I was saying, my Charlie was not pretty outside, but I found a real jewel when I looked a bit deeper. I saw him. Not the physical him, but his soul, his thoughts. Him.

And I fell in love with that.

And, the curious thing is, he did the same.

I'm not an ugly person, far from that, I'm very beautiful. And I sincerely hate that. Most people think I just have a pretty face and that's all they remember about me.

But I'm more than that, god, I'm a lot more than that. I'm kind, I love riding pegasus, and when I live with my father, I sometimes ride a horse. I love sports, the kind of dance and gymnastic. I love astrology, watching the stars late at night. I love silence, because it represents peace. And I love walking down the shore just to listen to the waves of the ocean and to the far away murmur of the nereids' voices. But when people look at me, they see none of this.

They see pretty blue eyes, a coquette smile and a svelte and thin figure dressed in some gorgeous clothes. That's all.

But Charles didn't. He saw me as I was. As me. He saw how my left upper canine is bow-legged, how after a rainy day my hair is a mess and I can't even have a decent hair do with it, how my laughter sometimes is not as graceful and attractive and makes me sound like a seal.

Once, because of an emergency, he went to see me at my father's house. My father woke me up and said I had to get down the stairs immediately, I obeyed, uncomfortably. I was dressed in some old, loose pajamas, I hadn't even combed my hair and it was hanging around my face in the most messy way, and of course I wasn't wearing any makeup, not even lipstick. Plus, I had had a terrible night and I had some horrible, dark bags under my eyes.

He still said I looked gorgeous.

And I knew he wasn't lying, because he talked about my inner beauty, that that was always ready at least forty minutes before my physical beauty.

So, I wonder, if could do that, see through his huge and rough physical appearance, and looked into that kind, nice, gentle and brave boy inside the body, why can't my mother do it? Or Zeus? Or Hera? Or Persephone? Why do they have to keep up fighting?

I'm so jealous right now. They have eternity. They still have eternity for forgiving each other, for learning to love, for learning of their mistakes.

Charlie and I don't.

He's gone. He's gone! Ohh, he, my lover, my sweetheart, the love of my life! He's gone! Completely, irreparable gone! He left with that damn ship, the Princess Andromeda. He died for the sake of us all, he died because of his bravery, because of his—

That's not true! I'm crying and I'm sorrowing and I know that's not true!! I killed him! These hands, so skinny and elegant are blood-strained! I, myself, killed him.

I killed the one that made me laugh with simple things, the one that made a rainy day seem sunny, the one that could make a gorgeous pair of earrings and a beautiful necklace that magically transformed into a sword and a shield by pulsing a button.

He's gone.

I can't do nothing now, can I? The pain is so big I feel numb.

I'm guilty. I'm guilty. Take me now! Kill me now! Get a sword and stab me right in the heart! Maybe, maybe then I can stop feeling like this.

I hear them arguing, the other demigods. Days come and go. Kronos' army continues to gain ground, but I can't bring myself to care.

Clarisse is here. She keeps saying I'll be fine, and that he's also okay now, in the Elysium, she says she understands my pain, but that I need to me strong.

Those are all lies.

I can't ever be 'fine' again! I don't deserve it! No, not after what I did! My guilt is so big I deserve to die and go to Tartarus for eternity to redeem my crimes! And he's not 'okay'!  Of course he's not! Charles had a life. He had dreams. He was going to go to college in fall, he was going to be so many wonderful things!

And, lastly, I wasn't strong, I'm not strong. If I had been strong back then and fought back Luke and stopped acting as an spy for him, this wouldn't be happening. Charlie would still be alive. Charlie would still be alive and I could still feel something other than pain and numbness!

But I was weak! So, so weak I let Luke manipulate me!

Why, I wonder now, why if our love was so strong, like Orpheus' and Eurydice's, why couldn't we be together?