Summary: Luke is possessive, obsessive, and powerful. The gods are at his mercy and Olympus is within his grasp. But, he's not done yet. After all, every king needs a queen… and this time, she will never leave his side again. Dark Luke. Thaluke. Thalia and Luke. Some Percabeth and Annabeth+Thalia friendship.

For the purpose of this story: The prophecy mentioned 21, not 16, as the age of the child. Luke is 20 years old and Thalia is chronologically 19 years old. However, Thalia looks like she is 18 years old due to the whole pine tree slowing down, but not stopping, her aging. Percy and Annabeth are 16 years old.

Other timeline notes: Luke met Thalia when he was 10 years old (thus Jason 'died' when Thalia was 9 years old). The duo met Annabeth when Luke was 13 years old. Grover found Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth and led them towards camp half-blood when Luke was 15 years old. Events of the first book happened when Luke was 19 years old and Percy was 15 years old. Thalia was thus a tree for four and a half/five years.

Disclaimer: Anything from the Percy Jackson and the Olympian books belongs to Rick Riordan. Plot twists, new dialogue, and [spoiler alert] new prophecy are mine. If I did own Percy Jackson and the Olympians, well Thaluke would be alive and kicking butt ;)

This chapter is rated MA. It's dark and twisted and I'm actually kind of shocked that I was capable of writing it. Then again, if you've read my other fics, you've probably come to expect these sorts of fics. I promise I'm a happy, pleasant, none-psychotic person in real life ;)

On with Chapter 5!

Chapter 5: knows

When Thalia hears the door to the room ricochet off the wall, she turns right away, eager to see Luke (eager to see another human). She expects a smirk, not a grimace of pain. Usually, his entrances are overly confident and cocky; with his arm pressed against the door casing as he leans into the frame. Currently, Luke stands at the threshold, still (almost as if he's in shock). His hand is draped across is side and pressing into his torso. He takes a moment to look at her before Mitera comes up beside him and he reluctantly lets her help him limp to the desk chair .

Thalia sits up on the bed immediately as soon as she sees the red that has seeped through his shirt. "What happened?!"

The chair Mitera helped Luke onto is facing slightly away from Thalia, so he has to angle his head back to meet her concerned blue eyes. He offers her a weak smile and even weaker mollification with his quiet "It's okay Thals."

Thalia watches as Mitera gets on her knees before Luke. The other girl starts slowly stripping away Luke's jacket and shirt, carefully trying to avoid the gushing cut by his ribs. His shirt is drenched, and sticks to the wound. The wound looks serious, and Thalia can't help but wonder why Mitera is the one who is attempting to help Luke. The pit in Thalia's stomach (the one being fed by the loneliness of the past few days, of the past few months of being in this cage) grows as she sees Mitera lean in closer to Luke to clean his wound and stitch it up. Then the usually overly-efficient red-head takes her time to wrap gauze around the admittedly kind of shotty stitching job.

Thalia's gaze never waivers from the duo in front of her. She finds herself wondering if Luke notices the way that Mitera looks at him, with half-lidded golden brown eyes and barely concealed desire.

Luke's gaze is turned towards his wounded side, pressing down on it whenever Mitera instructs him to. He doesn't see the point of her little charade, but he let's Mitera do as she pleases. He doesn't expect the kiss she places onto his side, and is more than a little uncomfortable with it. But she finally lets her touch heal up the gash, so whatever, he supposes.

Thalia doesn't notice Luke tense when Mitera kisses (the girl actually kisses) the wound over the gauze, and a traitorous thought comes from the pit. As usual, it is masked in Beryl's voice. 'He probably spent the past few days with her, kissing her while she happily gave him what you wouldn't.'

Thalia's relationship with the woman who bore her was completely dysfunction and toxic at the best of times. Beryl Grace wasn't fit to be a mother, even if you disregarded the fact that the alcoholic had killed Thalia's younger brother.

Occasionally though, between the woman's bouts of wasted unconsciousness and her nights spent stumbling into their mansion smelling of various different males, the elder Grace decided to impart some 'valuable' life advice to her only daughter.

A specific episode slips from the door it is supposed to stay trapped behind, and comes to the forefront of Thalia's mind. The memory materializes before her easily, too clearly. It is from when her mother had just come back from a weekend away with some producer or another that she was working on a new movie with.

A young Thalia is helping Beryl - a currently drunk waste of space who reeks of alcohol, cigarettes, weed, and sex - sit onto the bed in their master bedroom when the woman tugs at Thalia's hair and starts spewing her latest lesson via intoxication.

"You really are pretty," Beryl hiccups, "I'm sorry for it. Men use pretty things. Men enjoy getting to have pretty girls like you, but are quick throw them away for prettier ones."

"Yes Beryl." Thalia placates as she attempts to pull up the older woman's legs onto the bed as well.

"I mean it. You will be so, so beautiful. You'll have your father's icy blue eyes and long black locks. You'll have my perfect skin, my full lips, my breasts, and my hips. Every man in the country will line up salivating for the chance to fuck you. They'd probably do you now if I let him, and promised to keep it a secret from the world."

The gravitas (and hint of contemplation) behind the actresses's words seem a bit too lucid and Thalia flinches. She rips Beryl's grip from her hair. Then the young girl turns, intending to leave before the inebriated woman puts her musings to practice and sells her daughter to the next big wig casting director. Thalia doesn't entirely trust that Beryl won't. To be honest, Thalia isn't even sure a sober Beryl won't. The latter realization is three tonnes of terrifying, and is not a weight that Thalia thinks she will ever be strong enough to unload.

Beryl grips her daughter's arm though, before Thalia can escape. The older Grace laughs loudly then, as if her words hadn't petrified eight-year old Thalia. "Don't be such a little prude. Sex is the key to getting what you want. Especially for pretty little girls you. Best to learn that now. Men will want you, but they won't ever wait for you. Remember to give a man what he wants, or he'll find someone else who will."

Thalia manages to escape that night without her body warming some casting director's bed. She doesn't find a way (the will) to escape her mother until months later... but her mother's lesson stay (even if not in the way they were intended). When Thalia runs away the next year, after Beryl gets Jason killed, the first thing she does is roughly cut her locks and hide herself behind baggy leather jackets and snarky jibes. She doesn't want anyone to ever look at her and see what Beryl saw.

'Remember to give a man what he wants, or he'll find someone else who will.'

The voice (which Thalia can finally admit has been Beryl's all along since she awoke from the tree) lets the words ring in Thalia's head as Mitera leaves. They keep ringing even as a fully healed Luke makes his way to her. All Thalia can think about is the words and how quiet it was when no one was there. How empty it was…

The hand Luke places on her cheek is unexpected, and startles Thalia from her thoughts. Her face moves backwards a bit, leaving Luke's hand hovering in the small distance between them.

"What happened?" she repeats, a bit more subdued than before (she's half listening to Beryl in her head: 'Men enjoy getting to have pretty girls like you, but are quick throw them away for prettier ones.')

Luke sighs and brings his floating hand back down to his no-longer-injured side. "You don't need to worry about me."

Thalia lets out a disbelieving snort. "Someone has to." Preferably someone who isn't Mitera.

Luke's stare hardens at her words, and the hand from before clenches into a fist. "That's not fair… you can't say things like that, and then flinch when I touch you.

Thalia is still half in her mind, so she responds to his statement before she realizes what she's saying. "I don't flinch." Thalia almost rolls her eyes at her carelessness. She has just issued a challenge, and she is not naïve enough to think that Luke won't act on it. But she is also to prideful to let it be a challenge she concedes to him. So she doesn't flinch when his hand comes back up to her cheek, stroking it lightly. She doesn't flinch when the hand trails her jaw, before tracing its way down lower.

She is surprised when his hand doesn't go down to her chest, but instead goes down her arm. Hand reaching hand, he interlocks his fingers with hers. His words are pretty again. "I've loved you for years. When you died, it tore me apart. I mourned you every minute, I never forgot, and every day I missed you more." He pauses, and she almost tells him to stop because she can sense that if he keeps speaking, she might let Beryl win. "Now that you're back here, with me, I… after so long… I am trying not to force you, Thalia. So hard. But you need to meet me half way."

Beryl's voice is screaming in Thalia's head now. 'Remember to give a man what he wants, or he'll find someone else who will.'

Thalia still doesn't want to give herself to him. She knows that doing so will make it so that the hunt won't ever accept her. And if she doesn't join the hunt then the prophecy will fall to her. She doesn't want that at all. But she isn't naïve, she hasn't been in a long time, since many years before the time where Beryl suggested selling her. Thalia isn't naïve, so she knows another way to give Luke what he wants without completely giving herself to him.

With Thalia straddling him to his bed, her warm mouth working its way down his chest, and her fluid hands working towards loosening the buckle of his belt, the last coherent thought Luke has is that he should have tried Mitera's nefarious little jealously scheme a long, long time ago.

Luke sees stars and his hands find themselves gripping the sheets, his fingers digging into the soft fabric.

When he finally comes crashing back down from his high, his throat raw after roaring out her name, he looks down to see her wide blue eyes starting right back up at him. Thalia's glossy lips pop as they leave him, and his eyes zero in on the bit of sticky milky liquid that escaped her mouth as it trickles from the left edge of her lips.

The air between them crackles, and he wastes no time before hauling her against him. He tastes himself on her lips when he claims them in a raw, toe-curling, earth-shattering kiss.

Thalia is unsurprised (and maybe a little excited) when she feels Luke switch their orientation and flip them, dragging her between him and the bed. He keeps his lips on her the entire time, in a kiss that is positively raw and smoldering.

His words are a low growl between ragged breathes when they brush against the shell of her ear. "Allow me to return the favor."

The next thing she knows, her shirt is being ripped off of her, buttons scattering along the floor. His lips and hands attack every part of her that is bare to him. She feels no fear, only anticipation, and perhaps more than a little bit of victory. Luke won't leave her here alone ever again. She won't be alone in this room again. She won't be abandoned again. She won't be forgotten again.

His teeth nibble on a particularly sensitive spot, and it has her reeling with her nails burrowing into his back for purchase. The wanton sound that leaves her mouth only serves to increase his ministrations and she keens with pleasure, plastering herself against him. There is an urgency now, in both of them. More, more, more - she doubts her thoughts will stay in her head, she probably lets them out, and all but pleads him in desperation for something she can't quite name (even if she feels in building and coiling in the pit of her stomach).

In his eagerness, Luke's rough grip tears the fabric of her pants too. She supposes she should be annoyed at his lack of care for her attire, but she can't quite think anymore because his finger is impaling her.

Oh.

He adds another, and she turns to a moaning mess, begging him for more. This time, she doesn't care that the words tumble out of her between lewd sighs.

His teeth sink into the supple flesh of her neck as his fingers hit a place she didn't realize she needed him, and all she sees is white lights.

He makes sure to watch her as she comes apart, committing to memory the way she screams his name in ecstasy and the little mewling sounds of pleasure that follow as he helps her ride out her first organism. His eyes make note of the violent red mark on her neck where he branded her and he knows that he wants more. That he'll always want more of her. He decides he doesn't want to wait, and thinks she doesn't either, despite her earlier protestations.

She collapses into his chest. She feels light and sated and dizzy and good and happy and not hollow, not anymore. He continues to whisper sweet nothings into her ears, along with promises of love and devotion.

So entranced by his pretty words and his tender touches (I'm worth something to him, even if I wasn't to Beryl, and even If I wasn't to Zeus), she doesn't even realize when he takes her completely.

The first time he takes her, he is gentle and soft. She has never in her life felt more loved and more full and more complete.

He's my other half.

Without him she is lonely and desperate for his presence. She doesn't know who to blame for her growing dependence on him.

She lets him take her again and again. The entire night is filled with deep kisses, heart-clenching gazes, longing-filled voices, and drugging touches.

The morning after, she wakes up to his warm eyes looking at her as if she hangs the world.

He smiles softly, and it is so kind and so genuine, it is as if it's just them against the world again.

For that smile, she lets him take her again and again and again.

Chiron sighs at Dionysus's harsh manner. The god is clearly not happy to have Athena, Chiron, and three campers crowding his office.

Annabeth, Percy, and Grover have just returned from their latest failed attempt to find Thalia. Chiron has all but begged Poseidon to let the young trio be informed of the prophecy, if only to save them from killing themselves (and others) on another misguided (if well-intentioned) rescue mission for Thalia. He suspects the only reason his request was sanctioned is that perhaps Poseidon is running out of options too.

Athena has just finished explaining the latest prophecy to three campers, and the three older beings in the room are awaiting the young trio's response.

Dionysus really wishes he could drink, if for nothing else than to numb the awkardness. (He manages this meeting only because he sampled a few powders he 'confiscated' from one of Hermes's brats).

Grofter(?) is the first to speak. "So… I'm taking it the "know" mentioned in the prophecy is in the biblical sense?"

Dionysus snorts at the satyr's awkward attempt to break the silence, and his ability to point out perhaps one of the most disturbing points of this newest prophecy.

Poseidon's brat glares at Grov-whateverhisnameis in reprimand for the comment, with a pointed head tilt towards Athena's know-it-all daughter. Poseidon's kid clearly thinks Grover's comment was insensitive to mention in front of Anna-whatshername. The sea-boy's glare softens as he laments, "so you think it was Luke that kidnapped her." His voice is tinged with more than a little worry. Both he and the satyr look over to the blonde girl in concern, anxious as to what her response will be to the prophecy as well as Thalia and Luke's supposed role in it.

The girl looks at them all with hard eyes and then reprimands them all with a harder voice. "She is the best of us. She gave up her life to save me. To save you." Her glare focuses on Grover briefly before she continues "To save this entire camp. She is more brave and more loyal than anyone I have ever met. Thalia would never betray us."

Athena sighs at her daughter. "I understand your affection for her, Annabeth. But you have to remember… she was his before she was yours."

"She wouldn't let him!" Annabeth screams at her mother, uncaring of her audience while defending her best friend. "And no matter what you all think of him he would never force her. He… Luke wouldn't. He wouldn't. No matter how he's changed, he wouldn't hurt her. Luke would die before hurting Thalia."

Dionysus nearly snorts. The girl clearly didn't understand how beyond saving either of her friends were.

At the pitying looks of the people in Chiron's office, the distressed Annabeth bolts out of the room. They don't have to bring up the poison, she remembers it well enough. Memories blare in her mind as she runs. One after another, a reel plays scene after scene of times long ago. She recalls her first true family, before it broke beyond repair. She remembers their shared laughs and trials. She remembers the feeling of power when Thalia taught her how to wield a weapon ('stand angled, Anna, it makes you an even smaller target.' Thalia jokes). She remembers the feeling of control when Luke taught her sleight of hand ('we'll need to create a special magician's name for you, my very own mini-me protégé, and future master of sleight' Luke pats her head affectionately.). She remembers both of them smiling at her bouts of intelligence and …

Annabeth stops running. She looks up from the ground and find herself standing before a familiar tree.

The wind comes with a cold realization; she is old enough now to acknowledge that the memories aren't perfect...

'Stand side-face, Anna, it makes you an even smaller target.' Thalia jokes, but the smile dims as she continues, 'don't ever let someone come up on you from behind, and don't ever let the people you care about leave your sight.'

'We'll need to create a special magician's name for you, my very own mini-me protégé, and future master of sleight' Luke pats her head affectionately, but the movement slows as his smile dims. 'The trick is to distract them from what you don't want them to see.'

Annabeth remembers a lot of things, like the way they used to look at each other. She recalls the emptiness she saw in Luke's eyes when he thought she wasn't looking during the first few months at camp (before he perfected his mask). She sifts through her mind, remembering the moments she shared with her best friend during the few months she had her. She remembers Thalia's hollow eyes and blank smiles and for the first time doubt nags at her heart. She wonders if perhaps Thalia doesn't want them to find her.

Perhaps Thalia would rather be with him.

Thalia opens her eyes and finds herself back in her camp-half blood cabin.

She panics within her first breath. Why is she back here? Where is Luke? Had he grown tired of her? Had he sent her back?

She rushes towards the door, shoves against it in her haste to escape. When she wooden cage opens, she looks out and nearly sobs in relief. Outside the door is a white space, and that is all the confirmation she needs to know she is dreaming. She steps back into the fake-cabin, and she retreats back into her fake-bed. She sits down on it, and sinks into the mattress. She is waiting to wake up, when she hears a buzzing. Only buzzing doesn't sound like that, and it takes her a moment to decipher the inflections, and another moment still to recognize the sounds as Percy's voice. It takes her a few minutes more before she is able to make out a few of his words. "… sky in silver … gilded girl … gods be gone … Olympus will fall …"

Thalia wakes up to Luke's hand riding the curve of her spine, as his other arm holds her bare chest against his own. She wants to savour the stillness of the moment, but Percy's words linger ominously.

Luke must sense her confusion and unease. He gently nudges her. "What's wrong?"

Thalia almost tells him it's nothing, but instead hears herself telling him that she heard Percy's voice in her dream. The moment she says it, she regrets it. Luke's body tenses immediately, his hand stops its exploration of her back, and she feels herself being clutched to him even tighter with an especially sharp tug.

"Ignore them Thalia." He snarls, before registering the shock in her features and taking a slow breath to calm his rising anger. His voice softens, a bit artificially. "They don't care about you. Not like I do."

She doesn't know why she ignores the fact that they haven't really been in her mind since she found herself in the room. "It should," her subconscious screeches.

She doesn't know why it doesn't strike her as important that it is so unlike her to forget about her friends. But it doesn't. "Traitor. Traitor. Traitor." Her subconscious accuses. She's not sure if the it is accusing Luke or herself, but she finds she doesn't care… which is maybe a bit strange, because shouldn't she care?

Time passes, and she doesn't hear that pesky subconscious again. She's pretty sure Luke drowns it.

Time passes.

Thalia can walk freely now.

Well, at least, she can walk freely around the room. She still can't leave it. A transparent barrier prevents her from crossing the threshold. She knows because she tried to cross it once (just once). She feels hungry though. She can eat. Her limbs are fully mobile. Her body isn't back to normal strength quite yet, but it's not like she is planning on fighting her way out anytime soon.

She can take showers on her own, which is a freedom she definitely appreciates. She takes one of the clean towel and folded up clothes that Mitera brought into the room for her this morning, and is just about to make her way to the bathroom when the door opens.

Luke enters the room and a quick glance at the towel in Thalia's hand is all he needs to ascertain her objective. He gives her a mischievous smirk before suggesting, "sure you don't want my assistance?"

It is an echo of what he asked once before. He expects flushed cheeks, and then a huffy but resolute "No way in hell" before she slams the bathroom door in his face.

Instead he receives an impish smile and an outstretched hand, beckoning him forwards.

That night, Thalia hears Percy again. His words are jarring: "Don't trust him, Thalia."

Even though she doesn't hear her subconscious in the day anymore, she still hears Percy's voice at night. She doesn't tell Luke though. Not after how he reacted the first time.

Slowly, Percy's sentences become longer and clearer. She is able to string them together. But that still does nothing to ease her confusion regarding the vague warnings mixed within his nonsensical words.

"Don't trust him Thalia… A bronze box sees the sky in silver… a gilded girl… power pillager... bring…dusk and dawn…gods be gone… one babe breathes, Olympus will fall…"

"…one babe breathes, Olympus will fall…"

The last line, first heard tonight, has Thalia shooting up in bed. Her eyes widen, her mind is wide awake, and she begins hyperventilating.

Babe. Child. Baby. Fuck, they haven't been using… but the… but she… No. There is no way she could be…

She doesn't hear Luke asking her what's wrong, doesn't feel him trying to shake her out of her stupor. In her mind, all she hears is a baby wailing and she panics.

It takes Luke nearly an hour to calm her down enough for her to speak her concerns. "What if I'm pregnant?" Thalia finally chokes out, trying to even her breathing. "I-I can't have a kid…" She remembers Beryl, and can't help but think that poor parenting is just imbued in her genes. She will ruin it, just like Beryl ruined her. Or maybe she'll just end up killing it, just like Beryl killed Jason. Maybe she'll take after her father, and just abandon it.

Luke's embrace tightens and pulls her from her thoughts. "Hey, look at me." When she does, he continues. "Don't worry. Remember, no matter what happens. I'll always take of you. Forever, together."

Hours pass, and she finally falls back asleep in his arms. Lost to her dreams, she is unaware of the way his hand caresses her stomach.

Luke has always seen Thalia.

Even when she hid her beauty behind roughly chopped hair and dirty cheeks.

Even when she hid her heart behind a rough exterior, mean-spirited quips, and cruel taunts.

Even when she hid her fears behind her straight back and confident strides.

Even now, when she hides herself in her mind, her doubts leaving her afraid to trust her heart to him. He doesn't just want her to depend on him because there is no one else. He doesn't want her to just give her body to him as some sort of placation to prevent him from leaving her. He doesn't want Mitera's spells to influence her at all.

He just needs her to love him… to care for him as much as he cares for her. But she is being so stubborn. She won't admit that she wants him back. She won't forget her loyalty to people who don't care about her half as much as he does. Luke stares at her sleeping face with sadness, and a bit of remorse. You'll never see how much I love you, will you? I wonder if you'll never see how much I love you simply because you don't want to. And maybe... I wonder if maybe you're a little afraid of what I'll do if you say you don't love me back.

Annabeth's voice is sharp. "Did you reach her that time?"

Percy sighs in defeat, weary with exhaustion. "I'm trying Anna. But I'm still not sure what parts of my warnings and the prophecy she is actually hearing. Heck, I'm still not sure if I'm even doing it right. My dad's instructions were pretty vague-"

Annabeth cuts him off. "Then I'll go looking for more information. There must be something I missed."

Grover intervenes, and stops Anna from leaving the cabin. His voice is sympathetic, but firm. "Annabeth. You have had barely any sleep in weeks. You've gone through every tome, every paragraph, mentioning demigod dream communication at least three times. We all want Thalia back, but what good will you be in rescuing her if you collapse from exhaustion the moment we step out of camp?"

Annabeth glares, but when Percy's concerned eyes meet her fatigued ones, and his warm hand finds her own, she concedes.

Percy gives her a reassuring smile. "Maybe we should go over what we know. Trying to break down the prophecy again might help us.

Grover rolls his eyes. Percy is the literal definition of whipped. "Since Thalia was revived with the Golden Fleece, she's probably the 'gilded girl' from the prophecy."

Percy adds on, "Athena said powerful magical relics have been disappearing for the past eleven months, only to be found later without their power. She thinks that Luke found a way to steal their magic, and is somehow harnessing it all to take down the gods. So he's the 'power pillager' mentioned in the prophecy.

Annabeth voices the next piece of knowledge. "Zeus is missing. It's likely that the 'sky in silver' is a reference to him in some sort of cage, prison, or even silver chains."

Grover speaks once more. "They all think that the child in the prophecy that makes Olympus fall with a breath is Thalia and Luke's kid, based on the 'a gilded girl knows the power pillager' We still have no idea what the bronze box is though, or what it is supposed to mean."

Percy sighs. "We also don't know who the new ruler is supposed to be. It's probably Luke… I can't see him trusting the reigns to anyone else. Or maybe, it's supposed to be their kid?"

Annabeth is quiet for a moment.

Percy calls her name in concern "Anna?"

Annabeth shakes her head, repeating another passage from the prophecy. "Two bring both dusk and dawn. So with a sun, gods be gone."

Grover groans. "Ya. Not sure what that's supposed to mean either."

Anna shakes her head in confusion. "It doesn't make sense. Two of what?"

Grover groans again and falls back onto his elbows. "It wouldn't be a prophecy if it made sense."

Percy has to hold back a laugh at that, but doesn't bother containing the amused snort when Anna hits Grover over the head in irritation for his unhelpful comment.

Anna frowns. "I'm serious. Just because we can't make sense of it right away doesn't mean we can ignore it. 'So with a sun, gods be gone.' It's confusing. Is it trying to reference dawn or dusk?

Percy's head tilt the side in deliberation, before deciding he has no idea what she means. "What do you mean?"

Annabeth's eyes narrow in concentration. "The line 'so with a sun'. Is the sun referring to an absent sun or a present one? With a sun can be interpreted as either with the sun gone, gods will be gone or with the sun appearing, gods will be gone.

Grover turns his head towards the light seeping into the room from the windows and under the crack of the door."You know" he begins, not holding back an annoyed pout, "looking outside, that sun is currently rising and I have yet to sleep. That's a problem I actually can fix. Time for sleep, for all of us."

"Remember that discount store, the first Christmas we had with Annabeth?" Luke questions, enjoying the feel of Thalia in his arms as they lay back on the bed.

Thalia laughs loudly into his arm. Luke continues with a smile, "I only asked if you thought Annabeth would like the shirt..."

Thalia takes her face away from his arm to share in the memory. "The cashier was convinced that we were this super young couple, and gave us like 70% off of our entire purchase." She gives him an unimpressed but wholly amused smirk. "To be fair though, you did pick up a toddler's shirt.

Luke shrugs, "Anna was short, and I had no clue about girl's sizing."

Thalia smiles at his poor attempt at a defence. "I also remember the manager coming over and giving you a stern talking to. Telling you that you had to be a proper man and make sure to give your family a true Christmas."

The night continues with more memories and laughs.

Thalia talks freely about their shared memories of Annabeth without feeling an ounce of guilt. She is unable to question why.

She doesn't know what makes her say it, but one night, when the dark is filled with them trying to catch their breaths, she concedes. She lets him hear the words she knows he is waiting for (words that he has waited over five years for). "I love you too." She ignores the twisting in her gut when she realizes there is a part of her that means it, even if she suspects a larger part doesn't.

Luke strolls into his prison for the gods whistling, mood happiest it has ever been.

He walks right up to the god of lightening, who is on his knees in the center of the cage, wrapped with glowing silver chains.

"You know" Luke taunts, "I thought it'd be more painful for you if I made you think I was taking her against her will. But you know, I think the truth might actually hurt you more. Then again," Luke's eyes narrow dangerously, "you've never been concerned for her, have you? None of you spar a thought for your bastards. Right now, it's just your pride that's smarting. Knowing that the man who felled you has the girl you sired begging in his bed—"

Another voice, hoarse and weak, interrupts Luke's mini tirade. "Do you truly think she'll ever forgive you, Luke? Maybe there is a part of her that cares for you, if only for the history you have with her, but she will leave you as soon as she learns how you're using her to—"

Luke's glare silences his so-called father and all but hisses, "She will always love me. I'll never let her leave me again. She is mine."

Luke reaches his hands towards the chains, and once his skin meets the metal he feels the power enter his veins. Unfortunately, the magic thrumming in his veins does nothing to drown out the anger at his father's words, so when Luke leaves, he does so with a crazed glaze still burnishing his eyes.

The third god, chained to the wall, sighs wearily. Apollo accuses Zeus and Hermes in sequence. "You caused his obsession with the girl, and you allowed it to fester. Look at the monster you've both bred. No we all will face the brunt of its wrath."

Her nails dig into his spine as her face presses into his sweaty locks. She moans out his name as his teeth slice the skin above her pulse, one word blaring in his mind.

Mine.

The prophecy runs through Mitera's mind, as it has every night for the past century.

A bronze box sees the sky in silver

A gilded girl knows the power pillager.

Two bring both dusk and dawn.

So with a sun, gods be gone.

Let one babe breathe, Olympus will fall

And a new ruler will rise above them all.

End of Chapter 5

So that was it! Everything completed chapter I have, posted as a hello to 2018 (and an apology for my lack of updating other stories in 2017 X.X_

If you want more chapters, please feed my writer's bug with reviews! It always help to know that someone is actually reading the stuff I post up here ;P

Seriously thought, I'm curious if anyone has figured out Mitera yet. I'm not sure if I was too subtle, not subtle at all, or just completely confusing with her.

Preview for Chapter 6: sees

Magic that involves another's free will is… difficult. I can't force someone to do something they would never do. But I can amplify doubts, continuously whisper suggestions. I was able to keep her little friends out of her head because a part of her wanted to forget the responsibility that came with knowing them and her fear about her role in the Great Prophecy. I suggested that maybe your prison was better that the prison they kep . I suggested that maybe the others didn't come because they didn't care, and you only kept her because you did. Blood magic is dark, complicated, and to do it involving free will just compounds the complexity.

...

He wants her to think that he needs her to save him. She's always had a saving people complex. Case and point: pine tree.