Disclaimer: I do not own Pjo.

Enjoy!

A/N: Sorry it took so long!Also sorry it's on the shorter side.

Threads of Fate

Over the next few days Percy began to settle into a daily routine at Camp.

Each morning she would take her Greek history classes with Malcolm, since Annabeth had begun avoiding Percy's presence since their last class together, not that Percy minded it. She didn't trust the blonde know-it-all to begin with.

"Oedipus is considered to the most tragic hero to date because of the numerous strikes against him. It was debated at one point whether or not some of these workings-such as, the two oracles who gave the prophecy-were somehow really the workings of a god." Malcolm quoted, his eyes scanning over the Greek inscribed text with ease while Percy's own eyes struggled a bit more to follow along.

Once he finished the lesson he slammed the book shut, causing Percy to frown a bit feeling oddly unsettled by something she couldn't quite put her finger on. There was a brief tug in her gut- as she looked up just in time to meet Malcolm's piercing grey eyes.

"Was Oedipus a demigod?" She asked curiously, her fingers absently fiddling with the eraser in her hand.

Malcolm seemed to ponder the question, but only for a moment Percy noticed before he said "According to what the mortals believe no, but according to our records-"

At that there was an abrupt bolt of lightning shooting across the clear blue sky. Malcolm clamped his mouth shut looking frightened as Percy chose to ignore it, only sparing an audible 'tch!' Accompanied by a slight glare up above and then at Malcolm.

"Records? We have records? Of what?" Percy asked excitedly

Malcolm fidgeted." Well, it's really more like documentation than actual records. Unfortunately, a lot of what the mortals have written as our myths and legends are extremely inaccurate," he said" And obviously there are some undetermined demigods among the ones they classify as mere mortals."

"Like Oedipus?" She raised a brow. Malcolm only his shook his head. "I don't know." he admitted reluctantly. "While we are able to differentiate between what really happened and what mortals believe happened we still don't know everything. Only the gods do."

Percy filed that tidbit of info away for some time later.

While on her way to archery class Percy began going over her brief time spent at camp. The Greek myths are real, that she understood; although being the kind of person she is, allowed others like Annabeth and Clarisse to think she didn't. The war children were not too trustworthy in her book, not yet. Perhaps at some point she could establish a civil relationship with Clarisse but as for Annabeth there was just no way that would happen.

The two of them were much too prideful to admit their faults to one another.

"Bonds of every kind are necessary for growth young hero. You would do well to learn this now rather than later. There is little difference between the role of warden and slave, neither holds the freedom you might think." A voice said from out of nowhere

Surprised by the voice Percy quickly whirled around only to find a small girl, who was little more than a small child. Her hair was the color of snow as it was pure white as it tumbled freely down her back while her clothes consisted of dirty looking rags that barely hung onto her small frame, and her eyes were a deep smoky green, which seemed empty but yet all-knowing."

"Uhhh..."Percy struggled with what to say, unsure whether or not she was looking at an Olympian. Earlier on in the week Alabaster had mentioned that Hestia was a frequent visitor of camp, something to do with her going to where family was strongest or another. Percy understood some of what he said, but there was much she was still unsure about as she was still learning.

Is this Hestia? No. Percy asked herself as she wrinkled her nose, as an odd scent lingered in the air, it smelt of something… dusty and old.

It wasn't Khione. The ice goddess hadn't spoken to her in the brief time she settled into camp all that much. Still, there was something vaguely familiar about her.

"Care to spin a yarn?" The small child asked, arching a brow.

"...What?" Percy asked, dumbfounded.What does that even mean!?

The child seemed put off by the lack of response. She stared at Percy for all of an additional minute or so before heaving a sigh, resting her chin on her palm and her elbow on her lap staring ahead into the green fire-wait...

"Whoa, why's the fire green!?" Percy yelled without thinking.

"Because." The girl said by way of answering, rolling her eyes a bit even. "I cannot see anything otherwise."

"C-can't...see anything?" Percy repeated, not bothering to hide her apparent confusion. She looked a little closer at the flames, but sure enough there was still only fire. "Uh...but there's nothing there."

"Huh...so you still cannot see then? My, how very, very sad." She commented with another sigh.

Percy fought the scowl crawling onto her face at the bored drawl the girl was using.

"Pardon me, but...who exactly ARE you?" Percy asked

The girl shifted now staring directly at Percy as her demeanor did a 180- rising with grace to stand on her feet, she strode closer to Percy. When she was but a foot or so away she reached into the torn remnants of her dress, Percy could still tell that much at least from the design of it and pulled out a single long thin piece of thread holding an end in each hand.

"Αποτυγχάνουν να σώσει ό, τι έχει μεγαλύτερη σημασία στο τέλος, Fate έρμα δανείζει ένα σου χέρι."

The only word Percy understood was Fate, and it unsettled her a bit. She looked down at the thread. Then the girl. Thread. Girl.

"I don't quite follow." She finally admitted.

"Percy! There you are!" A voice yelled

Percy's eyes snapped back around, her body whirling to see who it was that called her.

It was just Luke.

Looking back over her shoulder she saw the girl was now gone, and the thin piece of thread was now in her hands...

Alabaster yawned, as he sat perched on the windowsill of the Big House, or as he called it, his Safe Haven. It was the only place in Camp where he could be free of all the staring and snide stupid remarks thrown at him by most of the other campers. Unsurprisingly, most of this treatment came from the Ares cabin; for now, though he would enjoy some peace and quiet until the bonfire later to night.

"Alabaster." A voice called out

Sparring a quick glance upwards he caught a brief look of golden blonde hair.

"Annabeth." He drawled not really in much of a mood for company right now. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

When the daughter of Athena didn't answer right away Alabaster heaved a sigh, and closed his book with an exasperated look. Girls! He thought to himself- as he fixed Annabeth with a pointed look that clearly said 'speak now or get the hell out of my face.'Which she then matched with a glare of her own.

"You missed archery class again today." The daughter of Athena stated

"And here I was thinking you were going to start the conversation on a more positive note-my, my how disappointing." He remarked snidely, easily seeing how his response had begun to make Annabeth's blood boil. He had always been good at getting under her skin. "Or perhaps you have another complaint about our dear sweet Percelina?"

"Don't go there Alabaster, … I'm serious." She hissed as he sat there smirking with his emerald eyes shining with mirth

Sighing, Annabeth allowed another bout of silence to settle between them before giving in and moving to sit beside Alabaster on the windowsill. He made no move to deny or accept her. His expression remaining neutral as he flipped his book back open.

By now the sun was dipping lower over the horizon, and night was settling in.

Percy was exhausted by the day's end. Today she had received her very first sword fighting lesson. Unfortunately, it was with Luke. Percy didn't care what the other demigods said-she sucked and she knew it! Her biggest problem was she couldn't find a weapon that felt right to her-Otherr than the sword she used to fend off the Minotaur. They were all either too heavy or too light in her hands, which resulted in throwing off her balance and causing her to mess up. Of course Luke being the best swordsman in camp didn't help much either! -it was just torturous.

Hopefully a good night's sleep could help her aches and weary mind. Unfortunately, as luck would it, another restless night of sleep awaited her.

She wondered if maybe Morpheus had some kind of grudge against her.

-Dream-

The air was cold. Standing in a room alone was the same boy she always sees, his name would always escape her somehow, his very being the image of grace and serenity only for it to shatter upon an all too familiar pair of feet crossing the threshold of the room. he looked up just in time before-

SMACK!

The book he had been reading was sent skidding along the floor, eyes turning the color of frost.

"How dare you-!" The voice-definitely female-snarled, their form constantly shifting. Only when Percy looked from the corner of her eye did it seem like she actually maintained a solid form.

The boy or Dream Boy as Percy had taken to calling him, tilted his head regarding the other being with a hollowed out stare. It frightened Percy with just how empty his eyes looked. His tongue ran against his lip licking the blood that had begun to trickle down from the force of the blow.

Percy wondered just how hard he had been hit.

"After all that I have given you, you ungrateful little cur!" She screeched, this time sending him down onto the floor when what looked like a wall of solid rock slammed into him." You may have some control over minerals and such, but do not think for a moment it is enough for you to stand against ME."

Whoever she was, she sounded beyond furious with him. Eventually when she tired of beating him she reached down, grabbing a fistful of his hair which she used to forcefully lift him to eye level.

"You are little more than a speck of dust beneath my fingernail, the fact that are you still breathing is a gift of my very grace. Do you Understand?" As if to make her point she inhaled just as he exhaled, easily sucking in the oxygen and shoving her face just a little too close for comfort. The boy's eyes glistened with what looked like unshed tears, his fingers clawing at her wrist, only to be thrown down onto the bed in the room.

A cry of pain fell from his lips.

Her voice turned evil, seeming to bear down on him. A sharp cry slipped through his façade jerking his face in the other direction.

"I will be the first one to kiss you." The voice hissed. "The only one to bed you, whether you come willingly or not..."

Slowly he turned back to face her. A few tears had slipped out, running down his face.

"You are as good as mine!" She exclaimed

Percy shifted in her sleep, groaning. When the thread she was given earlier and had tucked away in her pocket, began to give off a faint glow.

.

.

.

REVIEW!