A/N: In light of Frank's character development in HOH, here is a drabble concerning his new blessing of Mars power and his struggle to reconcile his heritage with his non violent nature. Because the character development in HOH, especially Frank's, was excellent and I am apparently under the delusion that if I ignore Frank and Hazel's curses that make it likely they'll die young, it will go away.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think/leave constructive criticism, ect.!

The first time she had seen him do it she had been terrified.

Emily Marie Zhang knew her father was incredibly powerful. One of her favorite bedtime stories her mother would tell her as a child was about the time she had been poisoned in Venice and Daddy heroically slew hundreds of monsters to save her.

He was Frank Zhang, hero, demigod of the Prophesy of Seven, Centurion, Praetor, distinguished legionnaire of the Twelfth Legion.

But he was also Frank Zhang, her father, her loving father who taught her Mandarin and how to play Mythomagic and had named her after the beloved grandmother she never knew.

So when she saw him under the blessing of Mars, it had shocked her to the roots.

She had been six years old.

A battalion of monsters had invaded New Rome one morning. The children in her elementary school had been evacuated into the First Cohort barracks as their parents and the teenaged legionnaires both fought them.

She knew she wasn't supposed to look, but she nudged the blinds on the window away a crack to see.

Her breath left her.

There were her mother and father whom she always saw reading or watching television on the living room sofa together now side by side in the enemy ranks. They were covered in blood and screaming as they advanced on a trio of Cyclopes. Her mother was on her beautiful horse charging and calling orders.

But it was her father she found frightening.

He was glowing red, his body as well as his eyes. He looked possessed with the spirit of revenge, and murder, and torture. His face was twisted demonically as the strong arms that lifted her tenderly over his head slashed a sword and killed one of the Cyclopes.

When the battle was over he was gasping harshly and his shining armor was bloodied but his eyes slowly became their natural black and his expression softened.

He quickly rushed to her mother as she was dismounting and hugged her fiercely. He whispered something to her and kissed her on the lips before taking her arm that Emily could see was injured.

Afraid her mother was badly hurt, Emily had rushed outside but stopped short when her father turned to look at her.

"Emily, what are you doing here?" he had said in concern, stepping closer to her.

Emily burst into tears.

"Frank." Her mother had said quietly. "She's afraid."

Her father stopped in his tracks with a pained and sad expression.

"Oh honey. Baby girl." He said softly, picking her up. "It's okay. It's just me. It's just Daddy."

But her sobbing didn't stop until they had gotten home.

Tucked into her bed that night she heard her parents arguing through the crack in her door.

"…not your fault."

"Not my fault? My own daughter is scared of me! Gods, I hate myself!"

Eventually her door had creaked open and her mother stood in the hall light.

"Sweetie? Are you still up?"

She nodded.

Her mother sat down next to her on the bed and hugged her close.

"Emily, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Daddy would never, ever under any circumstances, hurt us. You know that, don't you?"

Emily had nodded again uncertainly.

"I know what Daddy did was scary, but he was only beating up bad guys. He had to be scary to make them go away. You don't think it's scary he defeated all those monsters in Venice to protect Mommy and Uncle Nico do you?"

"No."

"Well then."

She had kissed her forehead and stood to leave and let her get some sleep.

She hesitated at the door.

"Never doubt your father loves you." She had said.

The next morning at breakfast she walked into the kitchen still in her nightie. She locked eyes with her father who was eating a bowl of cereal. He sheepishly regarded her before she broke into a wide grin and held up her deck of Mythomagic cards. Her mother who had been cooking at the stove beamed and allowed her "no card games at the table" rule to be broken.

And that was the first and last time Emily Marie Zhang had been afraid of her father. Even years later, she never thought of him as anything other than the kindest man she had ever known. It was just hard explaining that to her boyfriend.