It's been a while, I know. But in my defense, I've got MSL testing in Math tomorrow, and the years almost up. I wrote this today after having some random, yet major Reyna feelings. I love writing about her.

So yeah. I don't own Percy Jackson.

The principia was empting for the night as the stars twinkled into existence around New Rome. Older demigods were heading out for the night, maybe grabbing dinner while trainees were off to the barracks for the lights out, which would be approaching soon. And out on the horizon of San Francisco bay, a very large, bronze ship was docking in the calm waters. Yes, pretty much everything seemed smooth and peaceful in Berkley and in Camp Jupiter.

But a harsh yellow light still glowed in the principia.

Reyna Santiago was sitting in her chair, jelly bean bowl empty, metal dogs asleep, cape askew. Her normally neatly braided hair was tied up into a stringy, messy bun, tied rather improperly. The stack of papers she'd been sorting through lay on her desk. Work swarmed her, and she knotted her fingers in her hair, blowing out air from her nose. It was wasn't the papers that were overwhelming. It was the words, names and numbers that swirled around in her head that mad her dizzy and sick. But a certain sentence was edging her to tears.

You don't make him happy.

Those five words sent her mind into a frenzy. That shiny little dagger was tipping over her large wooden bureau. Noticing it almost falling, she plucked it up, unsheathing it in the process. Turning the gold weapon over in her hand, she examined it.

Her dagger was nothing. It didn't have a distinct sheen or anything, nor did it give her any visions, like a certain historic dagger. It merely served its purpose in battle. In fact, she could run her finger over the nicks and scratches and replay the battle scenes in her head.

Her calloused fingertips were poised over a certain ding in the Imperial gold. Furrowing her brows, she tried to remember how she had gotten that particular scratch. Running over it again and again, Reyna couldn't put the thought in her mind. But she knew-with this horrible nagging feeling-that it had to do with Jason Grace.

And that was okay. Or, at least she thought it was okay. Trying to swallow back that feeling of emptiness, she turned the hilt over in her palm. No use. The welling lump in her throat pressed her to produce tears. And maybe Reyna was just tired and alone, and only now feeling the backlash, but she grit her teeth a bit too hard and sunk her dagger into her desk with a grunt, followed by an outcry that would worry anyone.

Panting from an unhealthy release of emotions, Reyna pushed back the stray pieces of hair crowning her face and sunk back into her chair. It was only then, her sight clouded did she noticed someone standing in the doorway.

"That is mahogany," they said half-heartedly, obviously trying to make a joke. The voice sounded familiar, but she still couldn't see properly. The daughter of Bellona rubbed her eyes, attempting to look casual. "What?" she asked harshly.

The figure walked closer, but not too close where Reyna could throw her dagger into their skull. "You know," they started off, putting their hand their pockets. "You don't always have to be so strong."

Reyna didn't know how to take this. She stood up and blinked, trying to regain her sight. When it returned, she scowled slightly, though she tried not to show it. "What are you doing here?" she interrogated.

Standing in front of her was a teenaged boy with the messiest black hair she'd ever encountered. His powdery white skin made him almost transparent under the golden light from above. He was so lanky that it made Reyna wince. He wasn't too much shorter than her, but he appeared to look so much smaller in his oversized dusty brown aviator's jacket and large sword that hung off his belt. Overall, he looked extremely unhealthy, and this aura waved off of him smelled strongly of the Underworld.

Her scowl dissipated. Stepping back, Reyna tried not to show how surprised she was. It had been only a few weeks ago that she had last seen the Ambassador of Pluto, and now the boy was standing before her was looking like just that: a boy. He stood, shifting his weight under her pitying glance. She steeled her gaze after realizing that he, like her wasn't comfortable with such sympathetic emotions.

Crossing her arms to show her indifference, Reyna chose to simply look at the son of Pluto-Hades, she meant- as though he were anyone else. "I asked you a question."

Sighing, Nico gripped the chair in front of him. As Reyna brushed a lock of hair behind her ears, she noticed him tap his ring finger, which had a silver skull ring she'd never noticed before. Bringing her attention back to his face, she heard him say, "Leo told me to make sure you were okay. He also sent me to get you. We're headed to Greece right now, and we could use your help again." The two sentences seemed strained coming from his mouth now. His whole body swayed, as if gravity didn't have a good hold on him.

Regarding all this, Reyna waved her hand, gesturing to the chair he was gripping. "Sit," she commanded him.

Nico raised an eyebrow. Despite his frail state, he could still tell that Reyna was being uncharacteristically caring. And Reyna could tell that he was thinking it. "Sit down," she said again, this time in a softer tone. "You're obviously in no condition to be standing, and I'm not hauling your useless podex to that ship of yours, so sit."

"Yes Ma'am," Nico mocked, and Reyna hardened her glaze. Maybe being soft was the wrong way to go. She instantly took that back as she watched how hard it was for Nico to do something simple. The praetor sighed. "You shouldn't over use your powers, son of Hades." Going behind her desk, she fetched an uncorked bottle of nectar and a square of ambrosia. She flung her cape behind her back and handed it to Nico, hoping the headstrong kid would take it.

He got the idea, and nodded in thanks. Ever since they rescued her from certain almost death, a lot of the Greeks had been more casual to her. She was never sure how she felt about that; after all she worked hard to earn her respect. Though none were ever as casual as Percy Jackson had been.

And thinking of that, Reyna felt her shoulders droop again. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase were now trapped in Tartarus, behind the Doors of Death, and now it was up to the seven to save them. Reyna her guard down for the time being, and had audibly gasped. If anyone was strong enough to bear Hell it would be Percy, especially with Annabeth by his side. However, it wasn't unlikely that one would be surprised at the news.

Shaking out of her revere, the daughter of Bellona noticed Nico eyeing the dagger she had earlier embedded in her desk. He didn't dare touch it, but he did say, "Someone once told me that I was seriously troubled, but I've never done anything like that." He was standing on his own, she observed.

The conversation he was undertaking seemed tedious, but in the back of her mind, Reyna figured that she needed this. Her mind had been straying in and out of different things, and she hadn't stepped foot outside in hours, for fear she might run into some hostile demigod, calling her a traitor. Though the son of Hades had lied to her, she couldn't feel angry at someone so frail for long. Deciding to engage, she asked, "Who told you that?"

Maybe she was imagining things from lack of sleep, but she swore he smiled. "Dionysus. Bacchus, to you." The double names made her head spin, but she didn't point this out. Eyeing the Greek, she decided to return the mutual friendliness. "And you believed a word he said?"

He snorted. This wasn't a hallucination. "Yeah, well. That was a long time ago." He placed his hand on the dagger, and wrenched it out of the wood. Holding the hilt, he flipped it, handing it to her. She took it gently. "Though, I'll admit that I was messed up."

Reyna nodded. She didn't want their stories to become too one-sided or emotional, so she changed the subject. Clearing her throat, she questioned, "What did you mean earlier, when you barged in?"

Now that he was facing her, he didn't smile. Reyna held the teenagers gaze, but she had to force herself to keep eye contact. His dark brown eyes were hardened, and almost black, but they reminded her of a shattered window pane. "I meant what I said. You don't need to act like an Iron Lady. Sure, you have obligations, but you've also got emotions, like anyone else. It's okay to be human."

She snorted, but Reyna felt a pang in her chest. Holding back her spite, she quipped. "And you're one to talk di Angelo?" She hadn't meant to lash out at the young Ambassador but what could he possibly tell her about being human?

As if reading her mind, Nico stepped closer to her. She shifted, feeling uncomfortable. Reyna hadn't realized before, but the son of Hades was almost taller than her, despite their age difference. Then, as if by magic, from his coat pocket he produced a small something and held it up. Upon closer inspection, the Roman girl could see that it was a tiny figurine of a goddess. It belonged to that game she played often with Jason when she was younger; Mythomagic. The goddess was Hecate, it looked like. Yes, Hecate had been her favorite goddess during the game. Vaguely, she thought about the one she kept with her at times. Her face quickly heated up as she saw the tiny sharpie marks that indicated her names: RS.

"You left this, your highness," he said, though she saw plainly that his lips tipped up. He placed it rightly on the table between them. She looked at him bewildered, before she snatched it up, very red in the face. She was hoping Nico didn't ask whether it was from embarrassment or anger.

Instead he simply stated "You left it in the mess hall when you hurried out. If I wasn't looking for this," he pulled out one of his own; a figurine of his own shrouded in black clothing, holding a staff and topped with a crown. It was Pluto, she came to understand, his father. "I would never have found yours." He pointed to tiny figure. "Hecate's a good one to have though. She's only got around three thousand attack power, but she's really rare and once you've got her card, she's around four thousand. I've got a friend, a daughter of Hecate who doesn't play, but has a figurine just like yours. Not quite as old you though."

She had no clue why he was talking about this. He was making his way to the door, when Reyna called after him, "I'm not finished talking to you," she scolded him. Turning around, the pale boy stood with a blank expression. Taking a deep breath, the girl asked, "Why are you telling me all this?" And she meant every word as it sounded. She knew from experience in dealing with people like Nico di Angelo that most of them didn't open up to people like her. What did he see in her that made him talk like this?

He shrugged. Then, sighing like she had a while ago, he explained, "Someone once told me that it's okay to be a kid sometimes," from the grave tone in his voice, Reyna got a feeling he might be talking about Percy. "And I think it is okay to be a kid sometimes. After all, none of us are too different from each other." He looked straight in her brown eyes, before breaking contact. "You're not a machine Reyna, it's something both you and Leo need to understand." He didn't say more, but she got the feeling that he couldn't exactly practice what he preached.

She watched as the boy strolled out of the door frame. He didn't look back before he turned a corner, and Reyna couldn't be sure if he used the shadows to disappear, or if he simply kept walking. She didn't dwell on it though. To her, she knew Nico di Angelo would always be a mystery.

Holding the little doll in her hands, she thought of how she'd gotten it- Jason had gotten it for her as a peace offering. They'd been playing Mythomagic with Bobby and Gwen and she'd been lecturing how unfair it was that she didn't own one piece of the game, and she'd been challenged a weeks' worth of chores for a win. And after much complaining, Jason had bought her the Hecate figurine. He never explained why, but Reyna had figured that after her four game winning streak that it was her lucky memento.

She felt foolish now, knowing that it was her skill all along, and not the fact that the son of Jupiter had bought it for her. Still, that made the sentiment all the more special. Gazing wistfully out the window, Reyna exhaled slowly before stacking all of her paper neatly into a pile, and pushing it into the farthest corner of her desk. Reyna ran her fingers over the nock she'd made in the smooth red wood, regretting her sudden anger.

Rousing her dogs from sleep, the metal canines yipped annoyed. She pulled a face at them, and ordered them to heel. She watched them paced for a moment before, very mechanically, they walked over with stiff legs and creaky joints from being crumpled up for so long.

She thought about Nico's comment. It's okay to be human. She unsheathed her dagger as she turned off the light, blinking to adjust in the darkness. Feeling the soft grip, her fingers fumbled over the hilt before she felt it- a scratch made in the leather, one that hadn't been there before. Thinking over recent events, Reyna knotted her brows. This was one encounter she didn't remember.

And it took her almost the entire walk to the Argo II before she remembered Nico di Angelo's silver skull ring.

I don't ship them, but I was hoping they'd have a good dynamic. I was going to write Leyna, but this just flowed better.

And actually, I'm starting up Paradise again for real this time. I've got three chapters written, with new characters and everything. So, that'll be coming soon.

Flames accepted, whatever you want, just review.

Yours in demigodishness, and all that. Peace out.

*RRDC