WARNING:

This is my first crossover PJO/Avengers fanfic- I welcome reviews of all kinds and take constructive criticism into account. HOWEVER- I DO NOT TOLERATE FLAMES OR POINTLESS CRITICISM! I wouldn't do that to any fanfic- no matter how bad- and IF YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND- JUST KEEP READING!

This is a parallel universe- it will be explained how this happened in later chapters. Yes, in real life Greece doesn't have a monarchy anymore, but this will be explained later- and so will everything else- like why one character is too strong. If you don't like parallel universes with alternate histories, PJO/HoO, Avengers, Marvel Cinematic- don't read! I've had mean comments- but only from those that didn't bother to read in order to understand anything- which means, they're idiots. But apparently readers/audiences of movies, novels and TV shows wait to solve mysteries- so please don't jump to conclusions about whether something is rubbish or not. Cough *HaywireEagle and OverratedPendragon* Cough. Yes, I did use OCs, but I've determinedly made them NOT to be Mary Sues- or Gary Sues- if you feel frustrated with them- by all means, go ahead. There are reasons as to why this happens, and character development as well. One is an anti-hero.

Pairings are Percabeth and Jasper- mostly.

The Avengers.

Aglaia wasn't so happy. Not at all. She rolled her eyes.

Honestly, who knew the moron everyone called her 'father' would be a fan. Somehow, that was almost enough to make her hate them. But she didn't. It wasn't their fault they got stuck with him. Inviting them, she thought, would prove to be a mistake. She hated him instead. Yup, she hated her 'father'. He was hypocritical to look up and sing praises about the Avengers, like 'Saving people from harm- that's my heroes! Always looking out for those beneath them!"

Oh yeah? And what about him?

Damned moron.

"Γαμημένο βλάκας,"* she muttered darkly in her native Greek. "Φαρισαϊκή υποκριτής." **

No use saying it out loud- or in English, for that matter. She didn't even want to go to New York. Crete would have been just fine.

But her mother insisted otherwise.

Aglaia turned to the picture on the dressing table. Beautiful- in such a breath-taking and shell-shocking way, Sereneia, her mother.

No one could remember to breathe when they saw her. No one could even think about taking their eyes off of her. Her mother had rippling hair, smoother than silk, luxuriant and shining, in shades of gorgeous brown, like waterfalls of richest, melted milk chocolate, expensive wood, and chestnuts touched with gold. Her skin was pale, like the finest, purest cream mixed with milk and touched with roses. It was so flawless, that alone would cause people to stare at her. Her features were the most delicate and exquisitely shaped, set in her perfect heart-shaped face and her eyes were almond, a rich brown same as her eyes, also with hints of molten gold.

She could have married anyone. Instead she chose this world-class μαλάκα***, who stank. That is, really stank. Sorry, but it was the truth. That man truly, deeply reeked, like pigsties mixed with rotten catfish, mixed with the contents of a toilet of someone who had recent indigestion. Aglaia had heard that some people had medical conditions that gave them repulsive body odours. But he had no medical reason. Just bad body odour that stuck to him like super-glue. He tried to cover it up with Lynx deodorant and cologne. It only made it infinitely worse. A poor old lady passed out when she came two-and-a-half metres away from him. No joke.

Aglaia sighed. "Joy," she muttered. Now they were invited to Stark Tower- by a 'friend.' Her mother couldn't come- she was making business and political deals. Which meant Aglaia had to go in her mother's stead.

And the whole world would have to know he was her father. Ugh.

Scowling, she got out of bed. Ten am. No use prolonging the pain, she thought darkly.

Percy Jackson woke up. It was later than normal. Blinking, he got out of bed.

His dreams. He couldn't pin-point them. It wasn't as if they were sending him mystical omens, warnings or anything of that kind that made his brain hurt.

It was just that… He just knew, that there was something, or someone, very close to his vicinity, that he had a strong connection to. And he didn't mean, a strong romantic connection, otherwise known as a crush, on that particular someone. Whoever she was.

Whoa, who said this person- if she did exist- was a she?

Annabeth's going to kill me, Percy thought, thinking that his awesome girlfriend was going to take it the wrong way.

Slowly, Percy got out of bed. He just hoped his mom would make them blue pancakes or waffles, anything that would cheer him up and take his mind off things.

Stupid show-offs, Aglaia thought darkly. She and her 'father' stood side by side, yet an entire raging ocean could have been between them by the looks of it.

Aglaia blinked. Her eyes were unlike her mother's. Well, sometimes they were her mother's colour. They did have the same shape- almond that turned to doe eyes when they widened. And the lashes that framed them was so black, and so luminous when they captured the light. They were almost as luminous as the eyes themselves- a totally different colour to her mother's at the moment. She didn't understand it, and the medical scientists struggled too as well. But one moment they would be like her mother's. At other times, they were a richer and brighter, more piercing green than emeralds and jade. They were also clear as glass. They literally seemed to shine, even in the dark. She had no idea where she inherited those from. Or her hair, which was so black they were also luminous when they captured the light and reflected it back. Her face was her mother's- perfectly heart-shaped, and so were her features- delicate and exquisitely fine as could be. But her mother didn't have black hair. And her mother's eyes weren't green. Aglaia's own complexion, though exquisitely pale, appeared like the most dazzling mother-of-pearl and first snow combined. It seemed to glow, brighter than a star. Aglaia's belief that this man wasn't her father was further reinforced, no matter the name on her birth certificate.

She didn't say anything though.

His hair was like the oil spill the BP petroleum company was responsible for- every bit as filthy and disagreeable with nature. It was likely as toxic and harmful to the environment. His eyes were the murky colour of swamp slime and weed in a bird bath that hasn't been cleaned in years. They did not look alike.

Kassandros that was his name. Thankfully, Aglaia didn't share his surname. Antipatros Nikolaos was his name, but Aglaia shared her mother's surname- if she needed to provide one for anyone official. But officially her mother's family didn't have a surname.

Aglaia rolled her eyes. Tonight, she was going to meet a Norse god.

Tony Stark whistled happily as he donned his semi-formal cashmere suit. Black on black. His hair oiled and slicked, combed back, overall…

I have a handsome face, he smirked. A good thing too. Pepper was going to be there tonight. And Jane- Thor's girlfriend. He'd finally get a chance to prove Pepper was better.

Tony threw the towel over his head, not caring where it landed. JARVIS would pick it up later. He went out the doors, the doors zipping open as he zoomed smoothly by.

There, a whole lot of people were at the party. Helen Cho- who had survived the Ultron attack- was present. Steve- good ol' Cap- was there- minus the shield and the Captain America suit. Banner was there as well, with Romanoff- the two of them officially a couple. Thor was dressed minus the cape, in semi-formal Midgardian finery- dress-trousers, black shoes, white shirt and a jacket.

Damn. Tony thought.

They were in for a good night.

The guests started to arrive.

Tony arrived near Pepper. "Hey darlin'" he grinned as he pecked her on the cheek. She turned to smile at him before going back to her previous conversation with Maria Hill.

"Wooo," Tony whistled. Quite a great party and the night was still very young. Very young indeed. And they would enjoy the night until it reached pensioner age.

"Hey Caps," he said, pounding Steve on the back. "Need a hand getting a drink."

"Nah," Steve said. "I think I can get-"

Just then the room went silent- like someone had grabbed a freeze-ray gun and frozen everyone in place.

"What?" Tony asked. "What's going on? Did the Hulk crash the cake?" He was pretty sure that dessert didn't come out until later.

Normally he would have expected Banner to scowl at him at least. Or roll his eyes. But Bruce Banner was busy staring in silence, gaping actually, at the lady who'd just arrived in Tony's penthouse.

Gawking, even Tony had to thoughtlessly admit- to himself at least- that she was the most beautiful, most lovely, most damned-freakishly gorgeous thing he had ever seen. It was a while before Tony remembered anything about breathing. Or that he had the ability- impossible as it seemed- to move his eyes away. Dressed in a peach cocktail dress, with a glittering belt and asymmetrical sequins on the skirt and glittering dangly earrings and matching necklace, this was the girl that Rhodey had warned him about- the chick that he'd invited personally.

Though, Tony reflected on interest as she descended the staircase, he'd have a hard time. This girl was wwaaaayy out of his league. Like- several million light-years, at the very least. He didn't mind making it known to Rhodes.

"That girl is like several million light years away from your league, man," Tony said. "Minimum. As in- you'll never get close to her. Ever."

"Yeah? Watch and learn, Iron Man," James Rhodes whispered back.

"Actually, I think he's right." Maria Hill decided to join them. She looked at Rhodey. "She's a princess. As in, an actual princess. Princess Aglaia Marina of Greece. She's the king's granddaughter. She's waaaayyy out of your league."

"See," Tony chirped. "Told you." He knew she was a princess. Okay, maybe he didn't know. But

Rhodes just rolled his eyes, too used to Tony's comments and crazy antics to pay him any attention.

"So she is a Midgardian Princess," Thor mused. "Greece… Hmmmm… I wonder. My father used to sing praises about their land- everyone in Asgard does. Their wine, their music, their poetry, their philosophers, their-"

Remarkably, Thor caught himself in time. He remembered the treaty. He remembered the agreements. In fact, he wasn't even aware if they still lived or not. Not another word, he thought.

"What?" Maria asked. Jane who had noticed Thor catching himself looked puzzled and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, well," he tried to cover it up. Their very great civilisation is known even from across the stars," he said.

That was too close. He decided to take care of his wine- for once- during this party.

Meanwhile Aglaia wasn't at all happy. But she covered it up.

Being the granddaughter of a king- powerless as he was- gave her many preparations.

True, she wasn't wearing a tiara right now. But even without the shiny emerald butterflies in her hair, and ears, Aglaia would know better.

Admittedly, she felt ashamed. Why should she resent the Avengers? They did save the world. But she was not happy, right now. In fact, she was not happy at all.

Her mother, who was labelled Greece's Princess Diana- was over-burdened and overworked. She had never doubted her mother's love. But now she was under the impression that her mother was trying to get rid of her.

That stung.

Oh, and there was the small fact of her 'father'.

Aglaia wasn't stupid. She knew Kassandros mistreated her mother. He was a world-class jerk. And she didn't like self-righteous hypocrites. Kassandros felt like he could do anything he wanted, no matter how callous, or cruel, because he was important. And he married a princess, even though said princess wasn't even treated well by him- more like the Spartans of old treated their Mycenaean helots.

Despicable.

And to hear him hogging the Avengers- how could they even stand the stench of him, much less the man? She didn't know. She loathed him.

Staring off into the distance, Aglaia didn't notice someone lean himself on the bar, right next to her.

"Can I get you a drink, your highness?" The voice sounded like a purr. Aglaia frowned and turned towards the man. An African-American. Suave-sounding. Possibly rich. Wait. She recognized him. At the White House.

She didn't like him calling her 'your highness'. Honestly, yes, she was a princess, but if someone were to ask her to describe herself in a few short sentences, or maybe even one, 'princess' wouldn't even be thought of. She was born lucky. If you call that lucky. She was always being watched. Under the public eye. And the fact that people gawked and drooled whenever she was around, did not make her feel better. She was a novelty. A freak. A glorified trophy-to-be.

Thank you, but I do not think that would be wise, Colonel Rhodes," she said calmly, her lips twitching. She neglected to tell him she was underage. Which was why the fellow was still hitting on her. Still being mistaken for an adult had advantages such as being taken seriously. She looked at him icily. "I'm afraid, I'm not cheerful company at present."

"No?" Rhodes asked. "Well, let me cheer you up, baby. C'mon. Let's dance. Woo!" He broke into a slow, but stupid dance number, as if encouraging him to dance with her. Really?

"Now, now," A deep baritone voice sounded. Shakespearian. Rumbling. "Leave the princess be." Thor and Tony Stark had arrived on scene.

She turned her head. "Lord Thor. What an honour. My grandmother used to tell me stories about you- legends and epic sagas."

Thor raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Your grandmother?"

"Yes, she was a Danish princess before she married my grandfather and became Queen of Greece. Her people worshipped the Aesir and the Vanir long before she was born. In fact some claimed she was descended from your father, Odin."

Thor raised his eyebrows even higher. His eyes widened. "Truly?"

"She claims descent from the Volsung clan- and Sigurd the Dragon-slayer," Aglaia said calmly. "And from the Yngling Dynasty: Ragnar Lothbrok and his mighty sons who are descended from Frey. Those facts might be true. I never cared to check, admittedly."

Thor grinned. "Really? You are a descendant of my father's? And Frey's? I've always liked him."

"And Freya," Aglaia said casually. She looked around. "Where is he?"

They looked puzzled. "Who?" Bruce Banner came up to them.

"The man that came with me," her face twisted into a grimace. It should have looked ugly, but it only made her more appealing- as if she were smiling. "My father," she said as if the words tasted like dung.

"Huh?" Tony asked stupidly. "Ah," she said. "There he is." Aglaia gestured to Kassandros.

"Whoa-wait-what? That dude is you father? That stinky, ugly old-" Captain America shot him a sharp look and Stark was cut off from his incredulous outburst. But apparently, he wasn't the only surprised one.

"Well, it's his name on my birth certificate," she gave a wry smile. "Believe me, neither of us is pleased at that." She forced a smile. It looked cheerful to any stranger, but it was actually forced. "So, Lord Thor, I have heard about your adventures. My grandparents told me tales about the ancient gods of their lands and their epic adventures." She smiled slightly. "Although the myths said that you had red hair."

Everyone eyed Thor's sunshine-blond locks. "Ah, I'm afraid not." He said.

"The myths also said that you fought with the Midgard serpent," Aglaia said.

"Ah, that would be true," Thor rumbled, nodding his head.

"And that your brother made you wear a wedding dress to Jotunheim." Aglaia said.

Tony Stark choked on his drink and spewed it behind him. Everyone froze and turned a collective, incredulous glance at Thor. "Errr… Not true," he said, but his eyes avoided Aglaia's and she knew that this, she mused, was apparently true.

"My grandmother wouldn't stop going on about you when she first learnt of your arrival here in humble Midgard," Aglaia said. Steve noted that she had a British/Greek accent that somehow blended seamlessly well together. But she pronounced her Norse words like a Scandinavian, possibly due to her Danish heritage. Jane Foster stiffened and froze when she saw her particular interest in Thor. This unbelievably, impossibly magnificent royal princess gave her a serious blow to her self-esteem. Like a knife-blow. But then again, this princess was did not seem to show the slightest interest in Thor- or anyone for that matter, least of all for Colonel James Rhodes. Apparently she had seemed sad. Jane saw, and somehow she knew, that this lady- this beautiful, gorgeous princess- carried more sorrow in her than most people she had met. Her eyes showed it. She looked haunted, and sorrowful, but not weighed down and struck with grief until she bowed with it. In fact she looked even more beautiful than before. There was a sweet serenity in her beautiful face and features. A rare dignity about her, and grace.

Totally out of place here, Jane thought. Part of Jane wondered what made her so sad. The other part felt awkward, twisting her fingers nervously around each other, to try to hide the chew-marks. Shuffling from foot to foot. She felt seriously ungainly and awkward next to this princess. Like an elephant compared to a diamond.

But Princess Aglaia didn't pay the least attention to her.

Perhaps she thought, she wished that the gods of her native Greece existed too. That would be better, that would give some form of- what? Glory? Honour to her native land? To her family? To her mother? To her? She didn't know. Therefore she refused to continue with that line of thought. It would sound petty.

But she should have remembered the line: Be careful what you wish for.

"Are you sure?" Percy hissed at the figure in the Iris Message.

"Absolutely certain," the satyr, named Silas said. "One of the most powerful scents I have ever smelled. A lot like yours."

Percy cursed in Ancient Greek. Yes, after the Titan War, he probably did give some form of allowance to the Big Three to sire demigod children- mostly through saying not to disallow their existence. But it wasn't an all-out invitation! Surely they knew some form of discretion, some form of abstinence, some moderation for the sake of whatever poor soul is going to get eaten by the next salivating monster!

"Fine!" He barked. Annabeth grimaced at him from the corner of his eye. "Where is he, or she?"

"Manhattan, Stark Tower, that big ugly," the satyr grimaced, "-thing that stands in the middle of New York. Really ugly. It's like a mockery of trees, nymphs, pretty flowers-"

"Okay, got it," Percy said. "Anything else?"

"Be careful. The Avengers are here."

Percy cursed inwardly but nodded.

Little did he know he just changed the fate of the whole world- and himself.

For better and worse.

Aglaia had a reason to really dislike the Avengers. Let's just say that there had been conflict on the Greco-Macedonian border. Ironic, really, because her ancestors were Macedonian Greek. A large amount of people- in Greece and in Macedon- still claim Macedon was a part of Greece. But the majority of the people there were not the Greeks descended from those who lived under Alexander the Great- they were Slavs.

Aglaia didn't know whose side she should pick. Well, actually, it was one time she was glad about being royal- she had no right to a political opinion- or even to vote. Even if she was a descendant of Alexander the Great.

Anyway, with the conflict brewing, H.Y.D.R.A took advantage. And the Avengers- sent by S.H.I.E.L.D- stepped in. The result- of course the Avengers won. But the soldiers- both Macedonian and Hellenic Greek- had been hard-fought, but someone- possibly Tony Stark, now that she knew he had quite an annoying mouth- had said something along the lines of the soldiers being good guys- and that they could learn from the big boys- and girls. The comment made Aglaia and her family quake with fury- and possibly more than them. But no one had ever said anything publicly about that comment- no, because the Avengers were the superheroes of the world, and they always won, no one said anything bad about them. No one dared to stand up to them. Even when Stark made it explicitly clear that they would never have won ANYTHING if it weren't for the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D.

If they thought she was there to kiss their feet just because they had the luxury of more tech- or biological manipulations- they were dead wrong.

Then she saw her 'father'.

He had a tall young man with him, with a tan like wheat-gold. The man's eyes were hazel and his hair was dirty-blond. He looked handsome, but Aglaia didn't want to get near him. Even James Rhodes would be a better option than this. And she was only an ADOLESCENT, for crying out loud!

"Ah," Kassandros said his voice sickeningly benign now. "Aglaia, meet Marco. Marco, this is my daughter, Princess Aglaia."

"Pleasure," he whispered. He actually bent down and kissed her hand. Her eyes narrowed. No, she didn't like him at all.

She was tempted to tell him to get lost. But part of being royal was being optimistic, pleasant, charming and at least polite at all times.

"Marco, is it?" She enquired. "And, if I may ask, what is your surname?"

"Gaianos." Marco said. She quirked an eyebrow. Interesting surname. "Your first name is Italian," she said. "Are you from there?"

"My maternal grandfather was," Marco said smoothly. "But I am from Thessaly."

"Aglaia, Marco was telling me he has quite the luxurious yacht." Kassandros said. "Perhaps you would like to spend some time with him, aboard? You've always loved sailing."

So he was a suitor. And Kassandros was definitely trying to sell her. Now she was not ashamed to say she truly hated him.

"I would love to," she said sweetly, like poisoned honey, "but I wonder what my grandfather would think- not to mention the entire royal family, including my mother and the Crown Prince, my uncle- and the Greek Parliament, and the Prime Minister, and the leaders of the Opposition, not to mention the entire Greek populace- if the king's fourteen-year-old granddaughter, were seen in indecent attire on a private yacht, with a much older man, and no bodyguards and even chaperones to watch her."

Marco paled. "W-what?" He stammered. Kassandros looked furious.

"If you don't believe me," Aglaia said. "Then look me up in the internet. You'll find my birth date, there. Good night, Marco. I wish I could say this meeting was a pleasant one, but that would truly be a big lie."

"How dare you embarrass me like that!" Kassandros roared.

They were not in the penthouse anymore. But they were still in the tower- at the stairs, to be exact.

"How dare I?" Aglaia hissed. "I am sure others would say otherwise! How dare I try to defend my own honour and dignity- and the dignity of my country and my family- as well as my own mental and physical well-being- over premature relations with a much older man?" She was quaking with rage.

"I know there has never been any love between us," she hissed. "But even you never stooped so low in the dirt as to sell your own fourteen-year-old daughter to an older man! You slimy scumbag! How dare you attempt to ruin me!"

His thick hand shot out and shoved her against the stair rail. They were countless stories above ground. If she didn't fall, he would strangle her. He neck was slender and long. Much too slender for her own good. A 'swan's neck,' her aunt said. Unfortunately that would be easy to crush. It wouldn't take much effort.

"Stop!" They froze and turned their heads.

Captain America was there. And the Hulk, though he wasn't green. And Black Widow, and Hawkeye, and even Thor.

"Sir," they both jumped at the sound of the electronic voice. "Sir I would advise you to please, calmly place the princess back safely on ground," the voice said.

"Thank you, JARVIS," Tony piped.

"You're welcome, sir." The voice responded.

"Sir," Captain America said warningly. "I would seriously do as JARVIS says. I don't think shoving your own daughter is going to go well with the royal family- or the public."

White now, Kassandros placed her on the ground.

"Get out of my sight," Aglaia hissed with venom at him. He glared hatefully at her, then scurried off.

"Your highness?" Steve asked. "Are you alright." "I am, thank you." She said coolly. "I think I would like to leave."

He frowned. "The bodyguards-"

"Sir, you would be very surprised at what people without a costume, or biological manipulations can do," she said.

She turned and left.

Hate filled every inch of her. Anger, hurt and rage, as well.

She didn't notice the guy behind her until she was in the street.

"Marco," she said curtly. "What are you doing here?" Either he came to apologize or harm her.

He smirked. "I came for you, princess. I know you're underage, but I am a patient man. I can wait.

Latin Alphabet translations:

* 'Gamiméno vlákas'. Translation: 'F*****g moron'.

**Farisaïkí ypokritís': Self-righteous hypocrite.

***maláka: 'arsehole'.