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Hindsight sucks 20/20 (or how Hermes met Sephie)

The first time Hermes heard the name Persephone Jackson was a bit of a shock, to pardon the pun.

Zeus had called an emergency meeting about two weeks before the Summer Solstice, and Hermes flashed to his throne fully prepared for another agonizing round of screaming between his father and Uncle Poseidon. Ever since the Master Bolt got stolen, Olympus was in constant state of alert, watching the two brothers fight at every possible chance, dreading the Summer Solstice deadline Zeus had set for his brother to return the Bolt.

However, he didn’t expect the entire Olympian Council to be silent, yes even Apollo and Dionysius, while watching Zeus and Poseidon stare each other down. It was a bit unnerving, to say the least.

“Hello Hermes,” Hera said after a few seconds, sicne her husband had not bothered to greet his son and formally open the Council meeting. “What kept you?”

“My job, stepmother,” Hermes sighed, leaning back into his throne. “I’ve not stopped running since Winter Solstice. What’s going on?”

“Poseidon claimed a half-blood child,” Athena said wearily, and Hermes felt a sudden urge to bang his head against the back of his throne. Dear Fates, why? Why was this happening right now?

“Use her name, Athena,” Poseidon spit out, not moving his gaze.

“She should not exist, you broke the oath!” Zeus hissed out, electricity sparking out of his usually neatly trimmed hair and beard.

“Need I remind you of Thalia and Jason?” Poseidon hissed right back, his green eyes gaining a vengeful spark that put every god and goddess in the room on the edge. The last time Poseidon’s eyes had that spark, Troy’s walls were obliterated in the massive wave. “You not only broke it twice, but with the same woman, and in different aspect!”

“Neptune, Jupiter and Pluto never swore the oath,” Zeus growled, flickering slightly before supporting his head, and Hermes instantly mirrored his father, pushing Mercury back. Damn their little schizophrenia case! “And you visited the girl!”

“Like every person with a child here hadn’t done the same when they were babies!” Poseidon shouted, standing from his throne, and Hermes clutched the armrests of his throne as the Mount Olympus shook under the fury of the Earthshaker. “You’re a filthy hypocrite, brother!”

“I am the King of Gods!” Zeus stood up as well, dark clouds appearing out of nowhere and icy winds blowing through the throne room, and Hermes exchanged panicked looks with the rest of the Council members.

Apollo and Artemis were clutching their bows, ready to react at the moment’s notice, Athena and Ares were already halfway out of their seats with their spear and sword respectively, and even Dionysius, Hephaestus, Demeter, Hera and Aphrodite looked ready to start a war. The two brothers were truly a terrifying sight: with their charismatic auras and powers, Hermes could feel his own powers reacting, putting him in a fight-or-flight mode he had experienced only once, in the Gigantomachy.

“Do you think that little fact puts you above your own rules, baby brother?” Poseidon sneered, injecting just enough venom and ice in his voice to make Zeus take a step back.

“ENOUGH!” Hestia finally screamed from her place at the hearth, forcing her brothers to dodge javelins of fire and break the fight. “HAVEN’T YOU DESTROYED ENOUGH?!”

As usual, Poseidon was the first one to calm down, taking a deep breath before returning to his seat, gripping his Trident with enough strength to make his knuckles pale. “I’m sorry, Hestia,” he apologized in a whisper, bowing his head to the Guardian of the Hearth of Olympus. “I… I forgot myself.”

Zeus took a bit longer to calm down, static still escaping from his beard at random intervals, but eventually he took a seat as well, bowing his head in apology to his sister. “My apologies, sister.”

“Your apologies mean nothing if you do not stop fighting like this,” Hestia crossed her arms, which would look quite silly on the mortal eight-year-old, but she made it look like a mother scolding her children. “Screaming and shouting will not return your Master Bolt, dear brother.”

“No, but she will,” Zeus said through his teeth, and the gender pronoun finally registered with Hermes.

“Wait, Uncle P, you have a daughter?”

“Yes Hermes,” Poseidon was still tense in his seat, but at least he was no longer giving out death glares. “Persephone Jackson.”

Persephone Jackson.

Hermes mouthed to himself, feeling out the name. It was a bit strange to hear his half-sister’s name accompanied by a mortal surname, but somehow it fit. Just like his older sister and the demigoddess’ namesake, Persephone Jackson created chaos and discord between the elder Olympians. This time, however, it wasn’t a battle between death and nature; it looked like a start of the bloody war between sea and sky, and Hermes wasn’t sure he liked the girl for it. Sure, she could be innocent, but this type of thing would be written in Olympians’ psyche for a long, long time.

“She is named after my Kore?” Demeter asked, perking up slightly, and Hermes wanted to groan. The last thing Olympus needed was another elder Olympian to join the fight!

“Sally wanted to endear her to Hades, and I had nothing against it,” Poseidon sighed, suddenly looking very tired. “She’ll need every favor she can get.”

Hermes could sympathize with his uncle; the monsters would be drawn to the scent of the sea like moths to the flame, and there was no greater pain than the one of the parent that had lost their child. Ancient Rules or no, Hermes could still remember every child he sired, and how they died.

“You had nothing against it?” Zeus’ tone was dangerously quiet. “Have you broken another one of the rules besides the oath, dear brother?”

“Sally was clear-sighted,” you cretin, Hermes tacked the unspoken insult at the end of Poseidon’s sentence. “She knew who and what I was the moment she saw me. And I repeat, you hypocrite. I know you told Beryl who you were.”

For the first time, Hermes could spot his father sweating slightly, probably due to the killer glare Hera was sending him. “How -”

“I ran into her once, shortly after Thalia ran away,” Poseidon said with icy calm that mortals accurately labeled ‘calm before the storm’. “She confused me with you.”

It was an easy mistake to make, Hermes mused as he checked his phone for any urgent deliveries and finding none. If Poseidon was dimming the aura around him, you wouldn’t know the difference between him and his younger brother unless you checked their eyes. In fact, all three brothers looked ridiculously similar when they went into the mortal world; the only true difference were their skin tones, eye color and clothing choices.

“Shouldn’t we return to the actual reason why you called for the meeting, Father?” Hermes finally spoke, biting his lip at the thought of the ever-growing pile of mail waiting for him. He had to attend every meeting, and he thanked Fates every year when there were none of the ‘emergency meetings’ like now. “My duties are waiting for me.”

“Yeah, we do have things to do beside watching you and Uncle P argue,” Apollo seconded, removing the shades from his eyes, his customary smile gone from his features. Artemis nodded in rare agreement with her twin brother, and one by one, the Council members urged Zeus to hurry up and finish the meeting.

Zeus did not look all too happy, but after a warning look from both Hera and Hestia, he relented and spoke. “As you know, Poseidon had broken the oath,” the god in question rolled his eyes but refrained from commenting, “and sired his first demigod daughter – Persephone Jackson. She agreed to go on a quest to retrieve my Bolt. No one,” and here Zeus sent a particularly pointed look to his brother, “is to interfere. No one. No side quests, no helpful hints, nothing. She has to succeed on her own.”

“And if she goes through the official channels?” Aphrodite asked idly, checking her fingernails. “If she asks for a quick delivery, or directions in the wilderness? Or if she runs into one of us during the quest in our natural domains?”

It was a fair question, although Hermes suspected she couldn’t wait to mess with her love life – she loved stringing Poseidon’s children around, mostly because the boys were, without a single exception, gorgeous, and daughters, well… Hermes was old enough to remember Rhode, and how beautiful she looked in her wedding dress.

“Only if she runs into you or goes through official channels,” Zeus granted, but it was not hard to see his reluctance. “But no delaying her.”

Aphrodite acknowledged the order with a little dip, but Hermes wasn’t fooled; he had seen a devious smile on her lips, and he was afraid.

“Stay away from my daughter’s love life,” Poseidon said unexpectedly, fixing his gaze on Aphrodite, and man! That gaze sent shivers through Hermes, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Apollo share his predicament. “Let her choose.”

“Tch, ruining my fun, Poseidon,” Aphrodite pouted. “She’s too gorgeous for me not to mess with, at least a little!”

“The brat isn’t that pretty, Aphy,” Dionysius drawled, closing his magazine. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Yet,” Aphrodite nodded. “But you forget, she’s twelve. She has time to grow into it.”

“Not forever,” Athena reminded them all, and the dark looks were exchanged between the Olympians. The girl was truly born under the unlucky star: with the Great Prophecy dangling over her like a Damocles’ sword, and now the theft of Master Bolt being pinned on her…

“Leave her love life alone, Aphrodite,” Poseidon repeated his warning. “Her life is practically scripted for her, at least until her sixteenth birthday – she deserves at least some choice.”

“Don’t worry Poseidon, I won’t hurt her, I promise,” Aphrodite sashayed out of her throne and up to Poseidon’s, where she leaned on his arm to look him straight in the eye. “I only want her to feel a bit more normal in this world.”

“And every girl has an open invitation with my Hunters, Uncle,” Artemis called, standing up from her seat. “You can count on that. Speaking of which, Father, are we done? Zoe is calling me; my Hunters wish to celebrate their latest kill and the initiation of their new sister.”

“Yes, yes,” Zeus sighed, slumping in his seat. “You may all go.”

Hermes was instantly out of his seat, flashing to deliver some mail to Aeolus, but he didn’t forget the name Persephone Jackson. She was shaping up to be even worse than her cousins and half-brothers, which said quite a bit.

~

The first piece of mail from Persephone Jackson Hermes had an honor of delivering was a bit strange. It was a heavy parcel, with a delivery slip that made Hermes both laugh out loud.

To:

Gods

Mount Olympus

Empire State Building, 600th floor

New York, NY

WITH BEST WISHES,

SEPHIE JACKSON

He handed the parcel to his Father and flew off before Zeus had the time to open and check what was inside, but Apollo called him a few hours later to tell him.

“Medusa’s head, dude. Like, what?” Apollo could not stop snickering over the phone, and Hermes did his best not to copy, but failed spectacularly. “Pops looked ready to blast her to smithereens, but OFC Uncle P wouldn’t allow it. ‘She’s merely expressing her opinion, brother.’ Can you believe it?!”

“I still don’t believe it, and I delivered the thing personally!” Hermes laughed as he sorted out the time-sensitive deliveries and prepared them for transport. “What was the reaction of the others?”

“Aphrodite was a bit disgusted, but she’s Aphrodite,” Hermes could hear Apollo’s eye-roll. “Athena looked a bit constipated, Ares was grinning like a lunatic, and the rest couldn’t give a damn. Uncle P? He looked damn near proud of his ‘little Princess’.”

“I can bet. Rebellious as he is, of course he’d be proud.” Hermes shook his head and took the phone off his ear and switched it to loudspeaker to check on the messages.

“So, any interesting messages in the last couple of days, besides the Medusa head?”

“Nope, just a missive from Dad to Uncle Hades.”

Apollo groaned. “Again?”

“Yup,” Hermes sighed. “Uncle H is getting more creative with the insults, though. He told me to tell him to take a bottle of chill pills and please not die, he’d rather Dad not annoy him in the Underworld in addition to Olympus meetings.”

“NO WAY!” Apollo howled from the other side of the line, and Hermes could picture him collapsed on his bed and rolling around. “NO WAY! Dude, Uncle P and Uncle H have the best sense of humor ever!”

Hermes permitted himself a small smirk: he knew that far before most of the other Olympians. Neither of his uncles had a habit of shooting the Messenger God, but they always told him what they really thought of the messages they received from Zeus.

“Gotta go, Demeter is bugging me again,” Hermes ended the conversation quickly and set off again. The work of the Messenger God is never over.

~

The second delivery he made for Persephone ‘call me Sephie’ Jackson was not so strange in content, as in the receiver.

She had called for his services a day before the Summer Solstice, from Las Vegas. It was a quiet and polite prayer, ‘please Lord Hermes, could you take my message to Lord Hades?’, but Hermes had still been startled. Demigods rarely prayed to him directly, and when they did, they usually sent mail to their fellow demigods and not gods. Even stranger, she wanted him to take a message to their Uncle H, the god she was going to visit soon anyways, so why send him a letter in advance?

He appeared in Las Vegas, about thirty feet away from the location from which Sephie prayed to him, in the dirty alleyway next to Lotus Hotel and Casino. Feeling a bit worried, he stepped out of the alley and spotted three children huddled next to the public telephone booth. The blonde girl was looking down the street, the curly-haired boy was shuffling awkwardly in the place, and the black-haired girl’s gaze was jumping around the place until it landed on him, and she smiled and waved to him, her green eyes sparkling.

Hermes’ breath whooshed out of his lungs, and he started walking towards her without any conscious thought. It couldn’t be anyone but Sephie Jackson; those green eyes were unique to Poseidon and his children, and she recognized him on sight. Dionysius was such a liar: the girl may not be breathtakingly gorgeous, but she was pretty enough to make any mortal, and quite a few immortal, men stop and stare after her, even at the tender age of twelve.

“Lord Hermes,” Sephie greeted him cheerfully as she detached herself from her friends and walked till they met a few feet away from her quest party.

“Famous Sephie Jackson,” a little teasing note entered Hermes’ voice. “Nice to meet you, sweetie! You really know how to make a mess upstairs, you know!”

“Ah, about that,” Sephie scratched the back of her head, chuckling nervously, “I hope nobody got too angry?”

“If they did, they wouldn’t do anything with Uncle P watching over you like a hawk. He gave Ares quite the trash talking after that little stunt he pulled in Denver,” Hermes chuckled, extending his arm. “I hear you have some mail for me to deliver?”

“Yup!” the girl pulled out a white envelope out of her pocket. “For Lord Hades. And Dad did that?”

“You bet – you’re his little Princess, and he’s insanely protective of you,” Hermes shook his head and tucked the envelope in his bag. The curiosity in him urged him to check what Sephie had written, but he stopped himself. No reading private correspondence. “How urgent is this message, sweetie?”

“Um, it’s not ‘this second’ urgent, but sooner the better,” Sephie shrugged, looking rather uncomfortable. “If you can, of course.”

“Of course I can, sweetie!” Hermes pouted, a little offended by her mistrust in his skills. “It’s my duty!”

“No, no, I didn’t mean like that!” Sephie raised her palms in apology, her tone frantic. “I mean, if you have other, more urgent messages -”

“Sweetie, only war declarations, missives from my Dad and time-sensitive deliveries rate as ‘more urgent’ in my book,” Hermes laughed, now understanding what she wanted to say, and felt a little lighter on inside. She did not demand his service, and worried about inserting her own message in his busy schedule. Seriously, why did she have to be both pretty and kind?! “Uncle H will get your message in two minutes, tops – I am going down there anyway, so it’s no trouble!”

“Thank you, Lord Hermes,” Sephie exhaled, smiling brilliantly again, and Hermes’ heart positively melted at the sight. Damn Uncle P, and damn Sephie Jackson! “Have to run!”

“Good luck!” Hermes shouted after her and took off, his destination being Underworld.

~

When he came for his third delivery from Sephie Jackson, Hermes was cursing her; when he left her to deliver her message, he was cursing Aphrodite and Poseidon both.

The girl had managed to return the Master Bolt on time, thank Fates, and the threat of the war between Zeus and Poseidon was gone. Every Council member could breathe a little easier now, and have their normal Summer Solstice party, courtesy of Muses. Most of the minor Gods and nymphs did not know why the Olympian Council partied harder than ever, but none of the members was telling, too relieved to really care about their behavior.

Aphrodite was belly-dancing between Ares and Hephaestus, who weren’t glaring at each other for a change; Hera and Zeus were slow-dancing, finally looking like married couple; Apollo and Artemis were twirling around each other, their bickering so toned down Hermes had the urge to call from Dionysius to check their head. Speaking of the god, he was relaxing on the lounge, finally able to drink and distribute wine, next to Hestia and Demeter, who were flitting in and out of the kitchens with stacks of food. Wonder of all wonders, however, were Athena and Poseidon, who looked like they were discussing something on a civilized level in the corner of the room, standing so close to each other Hermes wanted to start singing ‘sitting in the tree’ song and get them to kiss.

All that partying and pairing up, though, left Hermes without a partner of his own to share joy with. He briefly entertained the thought of sneaking Luke and Stolls into the party before dismissing the thought and set off in the direction of the archer twins.

“Oi, Hermes! Come here, dude!” Apollo shouted over the music as he spotted Hermes weaving through the crowd.

“Hey Apollo, Artemis,” Hermes smiled, sliding through the crowd and ending up at Apollo’s shoulder, opposite Artemis. “Good party?”

“Definitely,” Apollo sighed contentedly, wrapping an arm around Hermes’ shoulders. “After all those meetings and watching Pops and Uncle P shout at each other, we needed this.”

“Apollo is right for once,” Artemis shook her head with a smile. “No more war, no needing to decide which side I’d be on.”

“Got that right. So tell us dude,” Apollo smirked, looking around to check for eavesdroppers, “Sephie Jackson. How gorgeous is she?”

“Apollo!” Artemis smacked her twin over his head. “She’s a child, and a maiden! Leave her alone!”

“Whoa, sis, relax!” Apollo rubbed the back of his head. “That hurt! But seriously, how much of a trouble will she be?”

“Tons,” Hermes grumbled, pressing his temples to get rid of the images of the girl. “D was lying: the girl is more than just pretty. Remember Rhode?” Apollo nodded. “Well, she’s already more beautiful than her.”

“Is she?” an unwanted voice asked, and Hermes whirled around to see Hera standing behind him. “Is she more beautiful than Rhode?”

“Jeez, Hera, don’t scare us like that!” Apollo clutched his chest dramatically, but Hera paid him no mind, her focus entirely on Hermes, who shuffled on his feet.

“Yeah,” Hermes admitted at the end. “I mean, it’s not just beauty; she simply, I don’t know, draws you in, makes you want to do anything for her. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she was a young goddess.”

Hera nodded, her eyes misty in the corners, and left abruptly. Apollo, Artemis and Hermes exchanged confused looks before returning to the party.

It wouldn’t have been too strange, had it not happened again, two days later. This time, Demeter stopped him before he took off to deliver his next package.

“Is Hera telling the truth? About Poseidon’s daughter?”

“What is Hera saying about Sephie?” Hermes asked warily. Hera never showed interest in demigods she didn’t want dead, and he didn’t want Sephie to die because of a jealous Goddess.

“That she looks like – that she’s prettier than Rhode and Kympoleia,” Demeter hastily corrected herself, and Hermes’ eyes narrowed. That she looks like – whom?

“Well, she certainly is prettier,” Hermes shrugged finally, mentally scolding Martha for teasing George again. “And a lot less like a damsel in distress than her sisters.” Demeter exhaled, closing her eyes, and nodded before leaving. Hermes looked at his aunt’s retreating back for a moment before taking off again, suspicions rising.

Poseidon had nearly blasted Ares to Tartarus for hurting Sephie in L.A., and landed Apollo with rather… creative injuries in the infirmary; the rumor went around Olympus Hera yelled at Ares for two hours straight over Sephie, and that Hestia refused to tend to Apollo apart from fixing his ankles and wrists so they would face the right direction again and stopping the worst of the bleeding; Zeus very nearly destroyed an apartment building in Manhattan with his Bolt after having a chat with Poseidon about Sephie.

Whatever happened in the Throne Room between Poseidon, Zeus and Sephie when demigoddess returned the Master Bolt, caused the elder Olympians to form ranks around her. They protected her, asked about her, and worried about her, and Hermes really wanted to know why.

The perfect opportunity to find out presented itself in the prayer Sephie sent for another mail delivery to Hades. He appeared just behind Cabin 3 and walked around to the front door, where Sephie stood leaning on the doorpost, clutching a blue envelope in her hand.

“Hey, sweetie!” Hermes shouted, and Sephie startled and went for the bronze hairpin in her hair before registering who greeted her, and that infernal (beautiful) smile appeared on her face.

“Hello, Lord Hermes!”

“Nuh-uh, cousin, just Hermes,” Hermes chuckled and leaned on the other doorpost. “How are you?”

“Alive,” Sephie joked, before turning serious. “I’m… okay. Better than before, now that Mum is back.”

“That’s good. I hear some mail is in order?” Hermes glanced at the envelope addressed to ‘Hades Aidoneus’. “Whoa sweetie, that’s terribly formal way of addressing Uncle H.”

Sephie dropped her gaze to the envelope and blushed slightly before looking up again. “Mum said to include that – politeness and all that,” she shrugged, handing over the envelope and turning towards the entrance of the Cabin. “No rush for this one.”

Hermes was a bit disappointed she was leaving so soon, so he grabbed her before she could go too far. “Wait, I need to ask you something.”

Sephie turned around, evidently surprised. “I-sure? Ask away.”

“Why are Dad and his siblings so obsessed with you?” tumbled out of Hermes mouth, and Sephie frowned.

“Oh. I think it’s because I look like Grandma Rhea; or at least that’s what Dad told me. Now do me a favor, cousin, and go talk with your kids,” she turned around again, freeing her arm from his grasp. “I worry about them.”

Hermes blinked at the unexpected harshness in her voice. “Sephie?”

“Just-just go greet them,” Sephie sighed after a moment. “Believe me, it’ll mean a lot to them. And little upgrades to Cabin 11 wouldn’t go amiss.”

Hermes frowned, weighting how much interference he could get away with under Zeus’ nose. “I can’t, you know that. But I can repair Cabin 11.”

Sephie sighed and shook her head, but said nothing else. “Very well. Bye, cousin.” And she closed the door, leaving the Messenger God to look at the door like an i***t before Martha reminded him he had a cabin to fix and mail to deliver.

Later, Hermes would look at the strange request Sephie made and slam his head against the wall. She knew – or at least suspected – Luke’s treachery.

Damn you Sephie Jackson, Hermes thought as he felt his heart constrict with pain of losing his favorite son to Titans. Why didn’t you tell me?