Character study featuring a revengeful Thalia.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own this amazing character.

The first reaction to knowing who your father is, is frowning. You don't believe it for a second. A god? It almost seems like a joke to you, considering both your mother and you are the least religious people you know.

But then— a smirk. Plans of revenge.

And dreams of power.

Your father is a jerk that doesn't care about anyone, an idiot that destroyed your life.

Very well, then. You will destroy his.

(The first time you think about ruling the world.)

Because, after all, if your father is the king of the gods, doesn't that make you a princess?

Revenge is all you want now.

You are a princess —a celestial one—, and you will make sure to stand out between your siblings —immortal or not— as the worthiest one, and escalate the complicated stairs of Olympus until you dethrone your father, until you are at the top.

(Until you rule everything.)

You will seek revenge for what all the gods, specially that god some like to call your father —but he never was, and he'll never be—, did to you, for the injustice that is your life.

Yes, you have a carefully calculated plan to be the queen, the empress of everything, to make the nations bow at your feet.

And it will work. You are sure.

But then suddenly everything starts to fail and fall down —starting with your life— because some monster has wounded you and you are going to die and nononononono this can't be happening, you had a plan—

But plans don't always work, do they, Thals?

And then you suddenly wake up, and you are not dead anymore (you still have a chance) but then you see the boy standing in front of you, and you know that someone has stolen your opportunity.

(The prophecy specifically talked about the child of the Big Three that tuned sixteen first. That's still you, right?)

But as you see how everyone looks at that disgusting son of Poseidon—Percy, he insists to be called —what a ridiculous name— and all their eyes reflect is admiration and love, you know that you've lost again.

You won't dethrone you father, because Percy will be there to save the Olympus.

(Because he will be there to make you fall.)

Tomorrow you are turning sixteen, and it could be the end of everything —the beginning, for you— but you don't want that.

Not anymore.

No, sweetie, you kneel and pledge yourself to Artemis, only to remain forever young and powerful.

(Immortality never sounded better.)

Because you know that if you act now, all you will get is a destroyed world ruled by a ruthless titan —even if you are crueller than he will ever be— and you will not even taste the sweet flavour of victory, for he will take all the power and leave you in the ground to die.

And, my dear Thalia, who in their sane mind would want that?

So you join the Hunters and now you are more powerful than ever, and immortal, and you will do nothing but observe as the world falls under the weight of the war while you laugh at how stupid demigods are.

(Always thinking they are invincible—just wait until they die.)

You notice the stares, though. The stares that your new friends —if they can be called that— send to you, pitying you and your broken heart.

You laugh.

Foolish idiots. You never did this because Luke betrayed you. You had already betrayed him the day you met, ready to sacrifice your new friend if it meant you'd take the glory and the power.

You didn't do this because of Luke. You did this because of your father.

Because there will be a day when the war would leave all the gods exhausted, destroyed, about to disappear. There will be a day when there won't be any Percy Jacksons, always trying to save the world, or any Luke Castellans, ready to live their lives serving someone so they could be on the winning side of a war.

There will be a day when no one will be there to stop you, no gods, no heroes, no traitors.

And, that day, you will walk into Olympus and make them all kneel in front of you, make them all pay for the sins and crimes they committed.

There will be a day when you will take your father's throne, rightfully yours —after all, you will have proved to be better than any of those idiots your father conceived— and hold all the power of the universe in your hand.

Until then, you will sit and wait, a victorious smirk gracing your lips.