High atop Olympus, Hermes leaned back in a gilded chair that looked suspiciously like a high-end gaming chair. Floating in the air before him was a shimmering pool of Iris-Message mist, currently tuned to Camp Half-Blood, or rather a specific person on Camp Half-Blood..
Wrapped around his caduceus, Martha and George, his twin serpents, shifted their coils, their narrow eyes fixed on the silver-haired boy below.
"Look at him," Hermes breathed, a grin of pure, unadulterated fatherly pride spreading across his face. "The focus. The dedication. Most kids his age are trying to figure out how to do mulitplication. My boy is conducting independent research."
On the screen, Luke flipped a page of the paperback. The nymph on the cover seemed to flex in the flickering candlelight.
"It's filth," Martha hissed, her voice a low, vibrating rasp of disapproval. "Utterly scandalous. He's nine, Hermes. Or ten. Whatever he is, he should be reading about the Twelve Labors or the proper way to fletch an arrow. Not this…. smut!."
"Oh, hush, Martha," George countered, his tongue flickering with interest as he adjusted his position on the staff. "He's a man of the world. A connoissssseur. Look at the way he's analyzing the prose. He's not just reading; he's studying."
"He's studying how to get a restraining order," Martha snapped. "You're encouraging him! You're going to give him that leather-bound disaster from the Cult of Dionysian archives, aren't you?"
"Already ahead of you Bob," Hermes chuckled, tapping the side of his nose. "A little 'extra credit' for my star sonl. Think about it, Martha. The boy fights like a demon. He needs a hobby that keeps his mind... flexible."
George let out a dry, reptilian chuckle. "I like him. He's got moxie. Most demigods are so boring—all 'honor' and 'destiny.' Luke? Luke's got flavor."
"He's got a one-way ticket to Artemis turning him into a Jackalope," Martha muttered, though she didn't look away from the mist.
Hermes watched as Luke traced the enchanted ink of the new book, the boy's eye-smile visible even from the heavens. "That's my boy," the god murmured, his chest swelling. "A genius, a warrior, and a pervert of the highest order. He's going to turn that camp upside down, and I'm going to have a front-row seat for the whole show."
"Can we at least hope he uses a bookmark?" Martha sighed.
"George," Hermes ignored her, "remind me to 'misplace' a few more volumes near the attic stairs. I think he's ready for Aphrodite's Scandalous Adventures collection. The Olympian limited edition."
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Way below in Camp Half-Blood
Luke sneezed suddenly. "Is someone talking about me" he muttered. He was momentarily distracted before his eyes were drawn back to the a sea nymph's shenanigans with a lost satyr.
He let out a perverted giggle.
Smut is Love, Smut is Life
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A little extra for you guys from Hermes POV. If you're enjoying the story, please consider leaving a comment. It's a huge encouragement and helps the story reach more people.