Chapter Text
Visiting Demeter… was a choice. Persephone was staying in the Underworld until next spring, so Nico was just being diplomatic here. He knew he would never be best friend with Demeter, and he wasn’t aiming for that, but they could be begrudging allies with a cordial relationship. It was enough.
He knocked politely at her door after vanishing his new artifact into his ring and straightening up his appearance. A nymph opened the door and stared at him blankly. He stared back. She had the typical beautiful elf-like appearance of her species, but she was taller than normal and her skin wasn’t green; a high ranked Nymph, probably. Maybe one of Demeter’s personal attendants? It didn’t really matter to Nico; she could be one of the Meliai, one of the first original dryads, and he would still outrank her.
“Hello,” he greeted simply, not bothering with a smile. “I came to visit Lady Demeter.”
The woman scrunched her nose unhappily, as if Nico was stinking, or as if she wanted to hiss at him.
“Her Grace is resting.”
It wasn’t an outright refusal, because of course she couldn’t chase him away—she didn’t have the authority for that, and she knew it wasn’t the will of her mistress either.
“Good for her. Makes one of us,” Nico deadpanned, nodding at the door for her to open it fully.
The dryad made an outraged huff but moved aside, even if it seemed to pain her. It was a little ridiculous, in Nico humble opinion; he had never hurt any nature spirit, and he was always polite with them. Sure, he was from the Underworld, but so what? Nature spirits were more aggressive toward him than Demeter, who had a somewhat legitimate reason to have beef against the Underworld!
At first, he had tried appealing to them by being extra nice and respectful, and even by offering help to some of them. Least being said, he had given up by now; the only nymphs who were respectful to him were the Lampades, the Underworld nymphs serving Persephone. If every nature spirit he met wanted to be prejudiced, then so be it. And if he was keeping notes, only Grover had treated him somewhat normally for the short time they had worked together in the Labyrinth. Was it because they’d had bigger problems at the time and that his presence had been needed for the quest? He preferred to think that the satyr was exceptionally open-minded for his species, even if he wasn’t entirely convinced. It was hard to be optimistic when all the other nature spirits either fled from him or grimaced in disgust when he passed them. If he hadn’t been far above them in rank, he was sure they would try to spit at him!
“Your Grace, the son of Hades has come seeking an audience with you,” the nymph introduced him as they entered an interior garden where Demeter was tending to some vegetables.
She didn’t try to hide the venom in her voice and Nico rolled his eyes, annoyed.
“Niccolò,” the Goddess hummed, a little surprised.
She straightened elegantly, and the demigod noted that her clothes were completely ill-fitted for gardening. She was wearing a long green robe with gold embroidery, her lustrous black hair flowing down on her back.
“My Lady,” he bowed. “I apologize for the sudden visit. May I take some of your time?”
Demeter waved the nymph away and nodded curtly at him. He waited for the nymph to leave before approaching.
“It’s a private matter,” he warned carefully.
The Goddess raised a curious eyebrow, and made a table appear with two chair. She sat on one.
“Do tell me,” she invited.
“It’s about the new decree,” he explained, sitting on the second chair. “Do you agree with it?”
“It is not a matter of agreeing with it,” she scoffed dryly. “I have no choice in it.”
“I found a way to keep the communications open,” he whispered in confidence, leaning across the table. “Without going against it directly.”
Demeter’s eyes bulged and she leaned across the table too.
“You did?”
“You can send letters to Persephone, right?” he hinted, choosing to use his mother’s name instead of his father. “And if she let them linger on a random desk by happenstance, I could take them back to Camp.”
The Goddess let out a small gasp, straightening quickly.
“Athena already agreed,” he added. “She will spread the word among the other Olympians and Gods, but I wanted to tell you myself.”
“You will get in trouble if Zeus learns of this,” she warned, biting her lips pensively.
Despite her words, a tea set appeared on the table with snacks. She was pleased.
“Would it be new?” Nico half smiled.
“No, indeed,” she conceded, gesturing for him to take a biscuit.
She took her own cup of tea, sipping it pensively.
“You would give my letters to my children, then?” she wondered after a quiet moment.
“Of course. They’re my Mother’s family after all, even if it’s a little weird to think of them like that.”
Demeter hummed, observing him.
“I’m glad your character didn’t suffer from your time by your father’s side,” she stated.
Nico contained a laugh. She really had the most original ways to compliment him.
“Thank you, my Lady.”
“You may drop the title,” she nodded magnanimously. “You are the son of my Daughter, after all. We are not strangers.”
Nico gaped a little before catching himself.
“Th-thank you, I’m honored.”
“As you should,” she hummed with a pleased smile.
If that wasn’t an official alliance, he didn’t know what was. He was a little stunned, but managed to keep calm.
“Do you know what Hera’s stance is on the decree?” he inquired.
“Hera?” Demeter pondered. “She never agrees with her husband, if only on principle. I can count on the fingers of one hand the times they stood together, and today is not one of those.”
“Good. I mean- I see.”
The Goddess let another small smile tug her lips and sipped more tea, not fooled.
“On another subject, I heard some unsavory rumors,” he declared, taking his own cup with all the grace he could muster. “Pardon my language, but is it true that some assholes are badmouthing Mother?”
“Not under my watch,” Demeter squinted, her expression closing off.
“What about behind your back?” he pushed. “If I need to kick someone off of Olympus, I would like to know quickly. Preferably before the end of the week.”
“Would you fight gods to defend her honor?”
What a stupid question…
“I would fight way more than gods for her honor. And when I see the behavior of the nymphs here, I dread to think how minor Gods would act when you’re not watching.”
Demeter frowned harder.
“Nymphs—Do you mean my attendants? They wouldn’t dare!”
“I can only hope you’re right,” he sighed a little dramatically. “I simply worry, maybe unnecessarily. I’m used to nature spirits treating me like dirt—no, scratch that, they probably respect dirt more—but what if they disrespect Mother too, for her association with the Underworld?”
Demeter grimaced as if she had bitten a particularly sour lemon, and under his innocent mask, Nico wanted to cackle evilly. He would deal with the assholes mocking his mother soon, but he could multitask.
“That would be… unacceptable,” the Goddess acknowledged, her jaw tensed.
“Right? Well, I wouldn’t dare to put my nose where it doesn’t belong, so I won’t make a scene with the Nymphs,” he assured. “After all, I don’t know if their disrespect would really transfer to Mother. I will just deal with the other Immortals.”
“You think you can fight and beat several deities? That is hubris,” she scolded.
“My fatal flaw is holding grudges, not hubris,” he shrugged distractedly. “I have a lot of work; I won’t risk my life on this. It won’t be necessary. I just need to make a quick IM to the Hesperides; they have the names I want.”
Demeter hummed pensively, staring at him.
“If you are so confident, I will simply spectate,” she finally decided. “That being said…”
Her eyes drifted to the garden around them, and she snapped her fingers. The nymph from earlier appeared from the roots of a nearby bush.
“Your Grace,” she bowed.
“My attendants’ behavior reflects on me,” Demeter stated coldly. “I will not tolerate ruffians to serve me.”
The nymph tensed, and Nico controlled himself to hide his smile. He sipped some more tea instead; it tasted particularly good today.
“Girl, do you know who my guest is?” she went on.
“Yes, your Grace,” the dryad answered hesitantly. “The demigod bast- son of Hades.”
Nico barely managed to restrain his snort. Who would slip so stupidly in this situation? Couldn’t she read the mood?
Demeter scowled and the garden rustled threateningly around them.
“Did I spoil you too much?” she snapped. “How dare you disrespect someone of Royal Blood?! The son of my Daughter, no less!”
The nymph paled, her face a picture of confusion and fear.
“I- I apologize, your Grace-” she stammered. “I didn’t think- I thought-”
She thought Demeter would be on her side, but sadly for her, Gods were fickle. Nico delicately grabbed a biscuit between two fingers, biting into it with satisfaction.
“I can see that you did not think,” the Goddess hissed. “How shameful! I would expect better from someone like you!”
As entertaining as it was, Nico decided it was time to conclude this and leave.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t consider a servant’s prejudice their master’s responsibility,” he smiled sweetly. “And I know my aura can be unsettling for beings embodying life and nature. I will consider that nothing happened. I owe you that much for your generous hospitality.”
Demeter glared at the trembling nymph.
“Are you going to say nothing?” she hissed at her.
“Thank you for your magnanimity, your royal Highness,” she whimpered, her head low.
“But of course.”
“How disappointing,” Demeter tsked. “I guess I will need to gather my attendants to make a point. Distasteful, really.”
Nico simply gave her a grateful nod as a thank you for her support. Now, he only needed to kick some minor Gods’ asses.
“I’m not trying to kill anyone,” Nico sighed for the third time to the Hesperides watching him anxiously through the Iris Message. “Even if I wanted, I’m not sure I could.”
“So you want to!” Erythea pointed out, twisting her hands in stress.
“I won’t.”
“Going after Immortals won’t end well, Nico…”
“For them.”
The girls moaned in despair.
“Don’t worry, they won’t know you’re the ones who gave me their names,” he reassured.
“That’s not what we’re worried about,” Aegle scolded. “We’re worried that you will turn Olympus upside down, and get hurt in the process.”
“I might turn Olympus upside down,” he admitted slowly, “but I will try my best to not get hurt. So?”
“So, you’re gonna give us grey hair!” Arethusa hissed.
“Do you promise to be careful?” Hesperia checked, making Nico smile victoriously and her sisters protest vehemently.
“I promise! And I will come back to tell you all about it,” he grinned.
“You better!”
“I can think of four names. Momus, the God of Satire and Criticism: it’s nothing personal from him, he just likes to spit at everyone. Kratos, the God of Strength: a lot of muscle but little brain, with a sad tendency to follow bad examples,” they listed. “Electryone, Goddess of the Morning Sun, and Eileithyia, Goddess of Childbirth and Pregnancy. They’re both pretty vocal about Persephone being a clout chaser, and you not being her true son.”
From the grimaces the girls were making, Nico could guess they were minimizing what had been said. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the rumors, though: that he was the bastard of his father, the living proof that he had cheated on Persephone, with all the dishonor that came with it.
It would be fine if they were just shaming Hades for his infidelity, but he knew that wasn’t the case. No minor gods would dare badmouth his Father, even behind his back, but his Mother? Apparently, they could. Or so they thought.
“Alright. Eileithya, Electryone, Kratos, and Momus. Got it,” he muttered under his breath. “Thanks, girls.”
“Be careful, for Nyx’s sake,” Erythea begged.
“I will, I promise,” he smiled before dissipating the IM.
Alone in the half-finished temple for the Chthonic Gods on Olympus, Nico took a second to think. He wasn’t a fool, he knew he was about to kick a hornet nest. Destroying it wasn’t the dangerous part; what would happen afterwards was. If those Gods wanted to curse him later, as revenge, it could get bad. Especially with the war coming. Kratos, for example, could probably weakened him at some crucial point in a battle. He would need to stab him in the back, without the god recognizing him. The same went for Electryone, whose Domain was the opposite from his. Eileithyia and Momus, though? He was probably safe with them: unconcerned by the Goddess’ Domain, and so criticized by everyone that he doubted Momus could make it worst. So, those two would serve as example to not mess with his mother.
He raised his eyes on the giant statue of Hades, watching over the temple on its pedestal, frozen in dark stone.
“Ô Father, give me the strength to punish the ones sullying mother’s honor,” he whispered. “Let them feel the fear of Death that they have forgotten for too long.”
The statue didn’t answer, but a cold breeze blew through the temple. Nico wrapped Thanatos’ cloak around him and walked out, determined.
The good side of Zeus’ decree was that all the gods Nico was looking for were on Olympus. The bad side (one of so many) was that it was really crowded, and finding them took time. It was fine though, Nico could be patient: revenge was a meal better served cold.
He found Kratos first, laughing loudly in an amphitheater of the entertainment district, surrounded by giggling maidens. The god was unsurprisingly muscular, but to the point it was ugly. He was tall, with brown hair close cropped, and an insolent smile. Nico instantly disliked the guy. He slipped in the row behind the group, still hidden by the cloak, and released every bit of aura he could muster. The air instantly chilled, and Kratos jumped out of his seat in fear, making a few girls fall and yelped.
“Agetes!” he gasped, looking frantically around him. (the one who conducts)
Nico grinned under his hood, recognizing one of his father’s numerous epithets used by those too afraid to say his real name out loud. Nico’s aura was nowhere near his father’s, but the minor god had probably never met him in person before, so he wouldn’t know the difference in a moment of panic. It hadn’t been the plan, but it worked great with what Nico wanted: Kratos would think Hades had sent a warning, and he wouldn’t imagine his son was responsible. That, plus the fact that he would probably be too prideful to admit a demigod kicked his ass.
The shadows grew in the amphitheater, the temperature dropping even more, and the gods that had been sitting there hurriedly left the place. Kratos tried to scrambled away, but Nico didn’t let him. He willed the shadows to grab him, and hurled him down the bleachers onto the scene. The god screamed, even if such a fall couldn’t have hurt him much.
Nico walked down the stairs, still concealed by the Cloak, watching his victim trying to fight off the shadows keeping him on the ground. He wished he could hurt the god, but wasn’t sure how to do that without using his blades, which would give him away immediately. His shadows could only grab things, but they weren’t strong enough to tear someone apart; especially not the God of Strength himself. Maybe he ought to work on that? Since Nyx had chosen him as her Champion, wielding them had been easier, so it might be time to see how far he could progress? With the war coming, it was now or never. Using darkness didn’t tire him, unlike summoning skeletons, so it would be extremely useful to be more efficient with it. He would need to check with Nyx to ask her for advice. And maybe ask his Father too; it had been a while since their last training session together.
Shaking his head, he refocused on the present. For now, scaring the God shitless would need to suffice. That, and humiliating him. He let him run away from the shadows, and started chasing him. Kratos fled through the streets, cold air and shadows rushing after him with Nico. It was tiring, because the God was fast and Nico was forced to jump from shadow to shadow to keep up, but the way everyone jumped out of their way and watched the scene in stupefaction made it worth it. The run ended at the god’s temple, where he dived in a desperate attempt to hide. Nico didn’t follow him inside, but he took great pleasure into making the stone edifice shake on its foundations.
Satisfied, he went after his next prey, who turned out to be Electryone. Already, the streets of Olympus were whispering about what had happened to Kratos (with more or less accuracy, and a great deal of exaggeration, of course). When he found her, the Goddess of the morning Sun was already on her guard, with a worried expression of her freckled face as she listened to what her group of friends were whispering. Her red hair was glowing like melted gold, and her caramel eyes were watching her surroundings as if she was expecting an attack. And who was Nico to disappoint her?
Electryone screamed higher than Kratos when a hellhound made of shadows pounced on her from nowhere, grabbing her and shaking her as if she was a plastic toy. The goddess released an explosion of light that freed her, but only partially destroyed the beast that Nico reformed easily. She was smarter than Kratos, because the moment she was free, she took off in the sky, where Nico couldn’t follow her. Squinting unhappily, the demigod muttered a prayer to Nyx and focused on the shadows, transforming the dog into a phoenix. That much was easy, but making it fly? Keeping it materialized off ground and moving it? That was gonna be tough. But as Atalanta often said, no better time to train than the present.
He called forth all the darkness he could, and the blue sky dimmed above Olympus. Not quite a night, but maybe like an eclipse? The phoenix took off after Electryone, taking her by surprise and snatching her mid-air before diving back to the grounds. Her screams were cut abruptly when she hit the ground, the shadows exploding in a puddle of darkness around her.
Nico had to sit down, out of breath and dizzy. It had been a while since he used so much power, and one he hadn’t mastered fully yet. It was promising, though! He would need to train more.
He left the scene without looking back, as panic and chaos erupted all around him, and went to take a break in the Underworld temple. He munched a small piece of ambrosia to replenish his strength, took a power nap, and walked out again. This time, without the cloak.
The looks he received as he walked through the streets were incredible. Were they doing the math and reckoning he was the culprit for the two attacks? Hopefully not. He could see the disbelief in their eyes, could almost hear the ‘no, certainly not?’ as they tried to guess if a demigod had enough power to unleash so much chaos. The children of the Big Three were rare enough that no one seemed sure, despite a lot of suspicion.
“I’m looking for Eileithyia and Momus,” he told a group that was staring at him with big eyes. “Have you seen them?”
The immortals glanced at each other hesitantly.
“Why are you looking for them?” one asked, a bit subdued.
“Take a wild guess?” Nico grinned darkly.
They twitched as if they wanted to step back.
“You’re the one who went after Kratos and Electryone!” one gasped.
“Am I?”
They stared at him, gaping like fishes, and one finally pointed in the direction of the Agora.
“Thank you,” he smiled politely. “Have a good day.”
He knew he was going to have spectators, and he knew everyone would talk about it. By Hera, he probably had ten cameras—or whatever the Gods were using to film things—following him and broadcasting his every move to the Olympians TV. It was fine, it would serve as a warning for those badmouthing his family. He could have gone under Thanatos’ cloak if he had wanted complete discretion, but he wanted people to know what was happening and why.
He found Momus easily in the Agora; he was on a small stage, doing some kind of discourse or one-man show for the crowd. The God of Satire and Mockery was scrawny, and quite ugly for a god. His face resembled that of a rodent’s, not unlike Octavian. Were they related? He wouldn’t be surprised. Anyway, he had a grin on his face that Nico couldn’t wait to wipe off.
“Excuse me, excuse me. Coming through,” he mumbled, pushing through the crowd.
As people noticed him and the sword in his hand, excited gasps erupted all around. Momus must not have been very appreciated if people were looking forward to him getting his ass kicked.
Alerted by the noise and movements in the crowd, Momus looked down and saw Nico. His grin wavered for a second, before he straightened with an mocking smirk.
“And who do we have here?” he yelled for everyone to hear, as Nico finally reached the stage. “Isn’t that Hades’ little bastard?”
He had chosen to continue his little show instead of running away, which was… a choice. Not that the result would be any different.
“That would be me,” Nico confirmed calmly, unsheathing his sword. “Will those be your last words?”
This time the god stepped back.
“The demigod that forgot his humanity, Hades’ Hound, that’s what they call you- Do you want me to give them other ideas for nicknames?” he threatened a bit pathetically. “You can’t kill me, I’m immortal! And I will curse you!”
Nico raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
“Really? Are you trying to threaten me with… my reputation? That’s your best call?”
Momus didn’t answer, his jaw tensing. He probably knew what everyone was saying about Nico, since it was his Domain, and he probably also knew it would be hard to lower that reputation any more.
“Alright. If you want inspiration for new nicknames, what do you think about ‘Momus’ slayer’? Or maybe ‘the tongue cutter’?” he offered, pointing his sword at the mouth of the god.
Momus squeaked, stumbling back some more. No one in the crowd made any move to help him, watching with rapture attention.
“No answer? You had so much to say earlier,” Nico squinted. “I heard you liked to babble about my mother, specifically.”
The crowd made a ‘ooh’ sound, and even if Nico didn’t look back, he was sure some had summoned popcorn.
“The wife buried by her husband, hidden under earth, and then discarded for mortal females! A dishonored woman, trying to pass a bastard for her own-”
Nico’s sword flew, slashing at the god’s mouth. Ichor spilled in the air and on the ground, the crowd gasped and stumbled back, as Momus’s lacerated tongue fell on the floor.
“Ô Persephone, Queen of the Underworld,
Ruler of all that is Dead,
Daughter of the Earth and Monarch of the Afterlife,
Ô Goddess of Spring’s Light,
Bringer of rebirth and blossoms bright,
Regal from the depths of shadow to the sun’s warm gaze.
Ô Radiant Queen of Dual Thrones,
In verdant fields and shadowed stones,
Please accept this humble offering I’m presenting you,
Of a fool’s tongue which he no longer needs.”
Dark flames burst from the ground under the piece of flesh, and Momus screamed, falling to the ground in pain, his hands covering his bleeding mouth. The flames disappeared with the severed tongue, and Nico sheathed back his sword.
“Here you go,” he stated coldly. “Much better. Try to disrespect my Mother again, and I will offer her your head next.”
Only one idiot left.
He jumped off stage, making the closest spectators stepped back, and quickly exited the Agora. He hadn’t planned to make such a public display of his revenge, but he doubted Momus would have followed him to a quiet corner, and he didn’t have time to wait. At least, it had been a spectacular example.
He distractedly wondered if he would get in trouble for it. After all, he had attacked a God, albeit a minor one; would that brand him as a danger? He remembered what Amphitrite had told him, about the Gods fearing demigods’ powers and ability. He believed he had enough allies on the immortal sides to protect him for now, but he would have to be careful: today’s allies could turn into tomorrow’s enemies, and he had enough of those, thank you very much. Luckily, the fact that he had offered the Gods a solution to communicate with mortals might soften the blow. Especially when they needed him for it.
He searched through the temples scattered across the city, looking for the one owned by his last target. After the amount of chaos he had caused, he was ready to bet she was hiding there. What would the temple of the Goddess of Childbirth and Pregnancy look like? Would it be pink? Decorated with statues of babies maybe? Olympus was big, and he didn’t have all day. He was considering asking for directions again when a feminine voice called him.
“Are you looking for me?”
He turned and discovered a pregnant woman with olive skin and curled brown hair tied in an intricate crown of braids. Her hands were cradling her round belly protectively.
“I think so,” Nico nodded. “Eileithyia, right?”
He wondered if she had taken this form hoping he wouldn’t dare attack a pregnant woman, or she was always like that because of her Domain.
“Is your Father sending you?” she inquired prudently.
“No, and neither is my mother,” he informed her calmly, coming closer. “I just heard about people badmouthing her, and thought I couldn’t do nothing.”
“I didn’t badmouth her,” the goddess tried to defend herself. “I was just stating facts. She isn’t your mother.”
Nico glared at her.
“She didn’t give birth to me,” he snarled. “So what? She’s taking care of me and raising me; she is my mother. I say so, and she agrees—no one asked your opinion on the matter. If you’re so close-minded that you can’t understand motherhood without pregnancy, that’s on you. So, how do you want do this? I have half a mind to take your tongue too, just like Momus. You don’t need it anyway, do you?”
The goddess recoiled in horror.
“You would dare attack me?!”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he snorted, unsheathing his sword calmly. “Because you look pregnant? Don’t worry, you can give birth without a tongue. It’s all that matters to you anyway, right? Pregnancy and childbirth. Anything else is useless and superficial, isn’t it?”
Eileithyia paled significantly and retreated even more.
“I apologize, alright?!”
Nico tutted her.
“You owe an apology to my mother, not me. I might reconsider taking your tongue if you go down to the Underworld to apologize directly to her,” he smirked, twirling his sword.
“I cannot go down there! I’m an deity of life and birth!”
“I’m not forcing you,” the demigod shrugged nonchalantly, calling forth the shadows to immobilize her. “It’s your choice. Now, can you open wide for me please? It will hurt less, and it will easier for me; win-win situation for everyone.”
“No, no, wait!” the goddess yelled, pulling against her restraints. “I will go! I will go apologize!”
“Swear on the Styx,” he ordered.
Eileithyia made a face, but capitulated when she saw no escape route.
“I swear on the Styx: I will go down to the Underworld to apologize to Persephone,” she mumbled between clenched teeth, head low in shame.
“Great!” Nico clapped. “We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t badmouthed other, seriously. Think before talking next time, alright?”
He vanished his sword and the shadows, leaving her to sulk.
He had one last stop to make on Olympus: to the Queen of the Gods.
Hera was complicated.
Nico wasn’t sure where he stood with her yet, whether she was an extremely useful ally or an extremely dangerous enemy. Or maybe something else? Nothing was all black or white, and there were so many shades of grey in between… He hoped he could figure it out before the war.
“Hi, I need to talk to your mistress,” he greeted the attendant at the entrance. “Do I need an appointment?”
He wouldn’t have time to make one, and barging into Hera’s palace uninvited would certainly put him out of her favor, but he didn’t really have time to wait in an imaginary waiting room.
“Her Majesty is waiting for you,” the attendant surprised him, stepping aside to let him in.
The demigod had a moment of shock. Not that Hera would know he was coming, but that she would let him go through so easily. That, and her attendant treating him politely. They were a daimon, not a nymph, so maybe that was why, but it was rare enough to be noted.
He was led to a vast interior garden, full of flowers and peacocks, some commonly blue, some white. Hera was sitting at a small table, doing what every goddess seemed to do in their free time: drinking tea. She had no biscuits on the table though, just one lonely ornamented cup, and the scene looked a bit staged for some reason.
“Your Majesty,” the servant bowed deeply. “Mister Di Angelo is here.”
“Hello, Niccolò,” Hera smiled slyly. “How are you?”
“As tired and overworked as always, your Grace,” he bowed his head, keeping his face neutral.
The attendant discreetly left, and it was just the two of them in the garden. With the peacocks.
“You caused quite the commotion today,” she remarked, looking awfully amused.
Nico guessed it was good that she was entertained instead of annoyed at him for going after gods.
“I’m afraid it was necessary. My mother doesn’t come here often, but it’s no reason for her to be disrespected,” he stated coldly. “Especially for a mistake my father made.”
“Oh? Do you believe you are a mistake?” she chuckled.
“I don’t know if mistake is the right word,” he shrugged, “but I’m well aware that I was born from a grave fault.”
“My, my,” Hera gushed. “What would your poor biological mother say? Maria, was it?”
Nico stared at her, unimpressed.
“Nothing. She’s dead, your husband killed her. And before you say anything else, please, remember that my father was at fault, not her. I was simply lucky that Persephone was kind and understanding of my situation.”
“Understanding,” the Goddess scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“Well, yes. She rightfully went after my father for it, not me,” he glared. “I think it shows wisdom, bravery, and a great strength of character to not misplace the original fault and go for the easy target that was an innocent child. Don’t you think, your Grace?”
That wiped Hera’s haughty air off her face, and she scowled at him.
“Did you know, Niccolò, that only male peacocks have the fancy looks their species is known for?”
She gestured to the birds in her garden.
“I personally hand-picked every single bird you see here. Each of these males are pretty and silent, as they should be, far better than their original form, and I would not mind adding one more to my collection.”
Nico couldn’t help but smile widely, even if he knew she meant it as a threat.
“What a great idea,” he approved. “I will relay it to Mother next time I see her. She isn’t really into birds, to my knowledge, but I could see her changing my father into a deer or a snake. Maybe the latter, if only for the double meaning.”
Hera blinked, taken aback. She hadn’t expected that kind of answer, he guessed, but he was just being honest. He couldn’t understand where his father had found the audacity to cheat on his wife, really.
“Well… Uh, yes… Indeed-,” the goddess stuttered, sipping her tea to try regain her countenance.
“Thank you for your valuable input,” Nico decisively bowed his head. “I will be sure to credit you, of course.”
“Uhm, yes. Do keep me updated on your mother’s progress,” she coughed, looking mildly interested now, all offense forgotten.
“I’m afraid your husband just established a decree that will stop me from doing such things,” Nico sighed, using that to go back on topic.
Hera grimaced, annoyed.
“That idiot,” she muttered under her breath.
“He has quite interesting ideas, truly,” Nico smiled falsely.
Hera looked like she wanted to throw her tea cup on one of her peacocks, in place of the face of her husband. Good grief.
“I’m sure you didn’t come see me to gush about the… original ideas of my King,” the Goddess spat venomously.
“I didn’t,” he confirmed. “But I was worried, since the decree stated that gods would be forbidden from contact with mortals, and you have one in your palace.”
“Worried?” Hera scoffed. “Please, Niccolò, you are a better liar than this.”
Nico gracefully accepted the compliment.
“I meant worried for him, not you,” he admitted easily.
“There is no need; Zeus won’t come to bother me. Especially not about one of his bastards.”
The demigod couldn’t help but grimace at her words.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” he retorted bitterly. “Couldn’t take responsibility for his actions if he tried, uh?”
Hera didn’t comment, taking another sip of her tea, but a new chair appeared at her table.
“Do take a seat, Niccolò,” she offered as much as commanded.
The demigod did, prudently.
“You already made sure I wouldn’t harm Jason,” she remarked. “By sending Nyx, no less. I’m not yet sure if I’m impressed or annoyed about that.”
“I’m doing what I must to prepare for the war,” he shrugged, guessing he didn’t need to play clueless here. “And I can’t afford to lose Jason.”
“Of course,” she agreed easily, unbothered by his mention of the upcoming war. “He will be a key player against Gaea. We won’t win without him.”
“So you can understand how I feel about you kidnapping him,” he frowned. “What is your plan, exactly?”
“Do you think I would tell you?” she wondered with a raised eyebrow.
“I have plans of my own, and if you don’t tell me yours, they might collide. I’m just trying to work efficiently here,” he appealed.
“Amusing,” she snorted. “Even if you were trying, you wouldn’t be able to disrupt my plans. I put them in motion before you were even born.”
Try me.
“Yeah well, I’m born, now,” he deadpanned. “I already killed one Giant, and that’s just the start. The Fates can’t control me, so are you really that confident?”
The teacup shattered into the Goddess hands.
“You killed WHAT?!”
“A Giant. Thoon, to be more specific,” he said, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed.
Hera seemed to buffer.
“But- No- You can’t-”
“I asked a god for help, of course. It wasn’t that hard.”
Hera gaped, before going red.
“You weren’t suppose to draw First Blood! It was Jason!” she screeched. “The war hasn’t even started! The first prophecy hasn’t been delivered yet!”
Nico didn’t say anything, just stared at her pointedly.
“You- If you try to disrupt my plans,” she warned angrily, “I won’t let you get away with it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. That’s why I need to know what they are, so as to not disrupt them. I might even give you a hand, who knows?”
“Insolent!” the Goddess snapped, even if her confidence was shaken.
Nico sighed. Hera was clearly smart, but she had terrible temper. It would be hard to walk around it and work with her because of it.
“I don’t need the help of a demigod!”
“Give me back Jason, then.”
Hera slammed her palm against the table, shattering it as if it had been crystal instead of metal.
“Do not disrespect me, child of Hades,” she warned, raising from her seat.
“I’m not,” he assured calmly, standing up too. “Or at least I didn’t mean to. But it seems we can’t see eye to eye, so I won’t take more of your time. If you ever change your mind, please, don’t hesitate to contact me.”
The queen of the Gods looked ready to smite him, or maybe to change him into one of her birds, so he decided to not waste time and shadow-traveled away on the spot. This meeting was a disappointing failure, but at least he understood a little better who Hera was.
Unlike a lot of Gods, she was aware that demigods could change the tides of a war and that they were a necessity, but she hadn’t yet crossed the bridge from using them as dispensable tools to treating them as valuable allies. What a shame…
Nico could have played her game, placated her by acting as if he was asking her help instead of offering his, but then she would have just seen him as a useful servant, a pawn, and he didn’t want that. As long as she intended to stay stuck in her ways, she could go fuck herself, for all Nico cared.