As a primordial, it was hard to say if he could honestly sleep any more. Unlike in the days of his mortality, he never really lost the awareness of himself or his surroundings. The closest thing he could ever come to being truly unconscious would be falling into a fuzzy, numb limbo after an exhausting battle, and not just physically but mentally as well.
Now, what passed as sleep for them was more of a light meditation.
He rested and felt refreshed after the fact, but he'd just as easily spring into action at the slightest disturbance. The usual echo and whispers of prayers would go to the lowest possible while still just at the edge of being heard and perceptions narrowed down. And even while in this trance-like state, he could tell just how long he'd been in it and what had happened in his immediate surroundings too.
That meant he could immerse himself in what he felt was his personal heaven.
He could feel the heat behind the silky soft skin of his wives, their bodies cuddled close against him as they rested after a full day and night of intimacy and bonding. Their scents mingled and mixed with that of their activities that he inhaled with every deep breath. He and the three of them all carried earthy tones that reminded him of tall mountains but with tiny distinctions his new senses let him bask in.
Andy's was like the touch of spring on the breeze, the fresh ice-melt and new life blooming with the note of morning dew always stood out to him. Hestia's ever-present notes of smoky, dried herbs mixed with that of a forest basking in the full sun of summer. Rhea's almost musky, calming scent of aged oak and falling leaves as fall set in. And then his own, the sharper chill of winter carrying notes of pine and other, hardy winter life.
And yet, through all that his favorite part was the unique floral scent that permeated them. He didn't know how it happened, but he wouldn't change it regardless. It was something that he could always pick out now wherever they'd been. Honeysuckle, Camellia, and Lavender; Rhea, Hestia, Andromeda. Fitting as can be and now, the trace of his own black orchid mixed with it, making him almost rumble in satisfaction. He was ready to slip back into that quiet limbo, to stretch out this moment for all he could.
Knock. Knock.
He sighed, eyes slowly opening to stare up at the dark ceiling of his room. Much like within his mindscape, his own version of stars and nebulas flowed across the ever-shifting surface. Parts of it were meant to mirror what any decent astronomer would be able to identify and name while the rest came into such close detail, said astronomers would sell their first born to even have a look. The major and minor constellations that some many deities were named and tied to, looking so small and almost insignificant in the grand canvas above him. He let his eyes drift about for a bit, just losing himself in it.
Knock. Knock.
He gave the slightest grumble as he lowered his eyes to the door across his room. He could probably tell whoever it was to leave, but knowing his luck, it was important. Though his body tried to rebel against the thought of leaving the comfort of his bed and wives, he mustered through. They didn't seem too pleased with his moving either.
He had to coax Andy and Hestia off his right and left shoulder respectively and then slip Rhea off him entirely. Even if she didn't open her eyes, her annoyed growl—more of a low rumble really—let him know she was very awake now and not happy about the change. He mentally agreed even as he set off a round of kisses for each to soothe them as he finally slide out of the grabbing hands and climbed out of bed.
Pausing, he looked back to watch as his wives adjusted to his absence.
Without him, Rhea became the center of the cuddle pile, being Hestia's little spoon and Andromeda's big one. Watching them wiggle about to get comfortable, hands almost caressing as they slipped into the most desirable of places to hold onto, tempted him like nothing else. He was almost sure his wives were having a private, mental conversation as they moved about to get that result.
Knock. Knock.
He sighed again as he turned about and finally made it to the door, a pair of silky pajama pants forming with a thought. He could hear a muffled giggle but didn't bother to see who it was. Without preamble, he all but threw the door open just as their guest was about to knock again. Nico blinked at him for a moment as he lowered his hand. His eyes then went over Percy's shoulder, an amused smirk forming on his face before returning to Percy.
"Was I interrupting something?" Nico chuckled out.
Percy couldn't help but let out a snort.
"Didn't get a chance to really start anything," he almost drawled.
Nico just shrugged. "At least the night was eventful."
That had Percy rolling his eyes. He and his ladies never really made it a secret when they were otherwise engaged with each other, so some light ribbing was to be expected after the night.
"So, why the early wake up?" Percy asked as he closed the door behind him and moved the conversation along, the pair starting move towards the center of their villa/mansion.
That hade Nico's face falling into a grim line, his eyes churning in their pools of reds and blacks. That certainly didn't fill Percy with confidence, and he just knew whatever it was, was going to bring all sorts of problems with it. It barely took them a minute to reach the center that counted as a living room/common space.
"That," Nico answered as he pointed at the large, floating screen connected to one of the many online signals of the planet below and showing a major American network.
'Breaking News: US President Owen Garfield Found Dead.'
"What the hell," Percy muttered as he made his way around the circle of couches facing the screen.
The message was flashing in bold, glaring red at the top of the screen while beneath, an emergency presser was being shown but it was muted so he had no idea what was being said.
"Been like that for an hour now," Nico stated as he stood beside Percy. "Just got back from the Underworld and learned what I could before coming to you."
"Who killed him?" Percy asked, his mind already racing with the implications of such a sudden death.
There was no way this wasn't a murder. Garfield was barely into his fifties and was as fit as a horse. The Louisiana born man was known for his health and one of his more popular movements was centered around it.
"He didn't see his killer," Nico responded, his features tightening in annoyance. "But his soul did have lingering traces of divinity."
"One of ours?" Percy asked in mild surprise.
"Third generation Roman legacy. Didn't even know it himself," Nico explained, getting an understanding nod from Percy.
It wasn't unusual for the somewhat older demigods to venture out and try to find anything to enjoy themselves away from all the mystic troubles. A one-night stand could easily lead to legacies born without any knowledge of what they are. Actually, looking back at Garfield's almost legendary ascendence to the height of US politics from being a small-town mayor in the span of a decade, it made sense.
This sharper features and way with speech that just gave him a command of the room. The presence he carried and the way he could get the people to follow him. If you knew what to look for, it was hard to miss the tells of a demigod—watered down as it was—in him. His rather successful stint in the US Army after turning down a draft for the NFL and graduating college with full honors also pointed to an iron set mind to match his impressive physique.
It was no surprise the man had record breaking support in both parties and after just three years, was all but guaranteed his second term from popularity alone. He'd also been a cornerstone for calm after the disaster that was Cordoba. He wasn't sure if the man had been particularly religious—Garfield was a more hands off, 'you respect me, I respect you' sort of deal in that area—but Percy was sure no American had missed the broadcast of the president leading the prayers himself for those affected along with his quick response to send the aid needed. The man was just what the council could have hoped for in a national leader to smoothen the transition to reveal the mystic world.
… And now he was dead.
...
AN:
Sooo… I may have started a new fanfic.
It's called:
Percy Jackson: The Fading Era
The first three chapters are up on my Patreon, and yes, they're completely free. Just pick the "free member" option no secret handshakes or blood oaths required. The vibe? Think slice-of-life with occasional monster-bashing, godly drama, and the occasional "oh no, the world might end" moment.
The Story:
Long ago, in the age of Alexander the Great, the maiden goddess Artemis turned her gaze toward the rising tide of the Macedonian conquest. Drawn by forces she could not yet name, she followed the army into the vast, unforgiving wilderness of Asia lands untouched by Olympus, where even the gods held no sway. Amid dust and blood, in a world foreign to her divine nature, she discovered a soul unlike any she had known. This is the story of her silent vigil, of bonds forged through hardship, and of a love both unexpected and eternal born in the shadow of war, and destined for Perseus.
(And yes, I can hear you from here: "Wait, Perseus as in Percy Jackson or Perseus as in Perseus-Perseus?" …You'll see.)