Chapter Text
MENELAUS:
For when a man of high degree meets with adversity, he feels the strangeness of his fallen state more keenly than a sufferer of long standing.
- Euripides, Helen, lines 417-419
Ever since Dionysus was punished and confined to the glorified daycare that was Camp Half-Blood, he rarely got summons or invitations of any kind outside of solstice meetings. He can still leave, mind you, his twin boys wouldn’t have been born into existence otherwise, but there hasn’t been any reason to.
It seemed that being unable to make wine or cultivate vineyards anymore tended to do that.
So when he is rudely woken up from a summons in the middle of the night from Poseidon of all people, he debates between answering or ignoring it and falling back asleep, before deciding that dealing with an affronted Poseidon was more trouble than it was worth.
He splits his essence, follows the call to an apartment in Manhattan and appears to find his uncle in one of his mortal disguises alone sitting on a well-used couch. “Is there a good reason for calling me in the middle of the night, Uncle?”
Poseidon shifted in his seat. “I called you here for a… favor.”
“A favor.” Dionysus deadpans. “And what I give to the mighty god of the sea that he can’t get somewhere else?” He doubts it's for wine, considering his punishment and the underwater peoples had their own versions of wine, and he’s not giving up his hidden stash anyway. His uncle would’ve just called during the day instead of this clandestine bullshit.
Poseidon sighs, looking more his age, and waves a hand and the Mist sweeps into the apartment. No one would hear them. Dionysus narrows his eyes in suspicion. Whatever this favor is, Poseidon wants it kept quiet.
“I need you to claim a child as your own.”
“No.” The answer was immediate. “You know I hate heroes. Did you think I have forgotten what Theseus did to Ariadne?” A pause. “You broke your oath?!”
“Yes.” His uncle didn’t bother denying it, closing his eyes and looking like he wanted to be anywhere else but here. “Yes, I did.”
Dionysus pinched his nose. Gods and their bullshit were one of the reasons he needed his wine. “Why did you come to me? Why not some other sea god or even Aphrodite? She has ties to the ocean, doesn’t she?”
“If I had another sea god claim my son, it would mean little in the eyes of my younger brother.” Poseidon explained. “And Aphrodite has a deal with Zeus that he would not interfere with any of her children in exchange for her support in his favor in every council vote. She wouldn’t risk that.”
“And you think I would? If you had so conveniently forgotten, my father had punished me. Why would I risk making that worse? Why would I risk my own children to hide yours? Your son could raze Olympus!” Dionysus argued.
Then his uncle did something he had never seen before. He kneeled. “Please, Dionysus. I swear on the River Styx that I would grant you a favor in turn if you claim him.” Dionysus heard the booming of thunder. “Please.”
That caught his attention. A favor in exchange for a favor. Poseidon did not owe anyone anything to his knowledge, but of the few favors and gifts the sea god gave were all of extremely great quality. And he’s been around enough children of the sea to know that they were often loyal to a fault, come hell or high water, one of which they could control easily. The idea of one of Poseidon’s brats giving their life for his children crosses his mind.
Still, was this worth the trouble?
Before the god could debate it more, the sound of a door opening further in the apartment makes him turn around to find a young mortal woman, certainly his type in any other situation, but couldn’t be anyone else besides Poseidon’s new mortal lover. Must be her apartment.
She’s obviously afraid, nevermind that his uncle would stop him if Dionysus tried anything, but the determination in her frame is stronger. She wasn’t pregnant, which means the brat was born already, probably in the other room she walked out of.
She kneels and bows before him. “Lord Dionysus, I am honored to be in your presence.”
“Sally-” Poseidon starts only to be cut off by a look from the woman. Styx, his uncle must really love this woman to be cowed by a look.
“And I am guessing you are the other woman.” Dionysus throws at her the taunting reminder that Poseidon is a married man, leaving out the fact that his uncle and Amphitrite had their own deal in their marriage. He and Ariadne had a similar deal, but Dionysus wants to see how this mortal reacts.
“Yes, I suppose I am.” The mortal replies, no resentment or scorn in her tone. “I don’t have any offerings to give, nor do I interact with your domains, but I can only humbly ask that you at least consider our plea.”
Dionysus quirks an eyebrow. “Well, Sandra,” He deliberately draws out the name. “Usually mortals make sure to have something to offer before asking gods for their attention.”
The mortal squeezes her eyes. “Please.”
Dionysus did not know Semele, his mother, at first as Zeus had vaporized her due to Hera’s machinations, and he had only known his aunt Ino, Queen of Orchomenos for only three years before Hera came along and killed them too. There were the rain nymphs on Mount Nysa, but Zeus had ascended them to the stars. He did rescue Semele from the Underworld and made her a goddess, but by then he was already a man and a god at that.
But Dionysus had lived with Castor and Pollux and their mother for a while. He loved it, not that he would admit it to his uncle and this mortal. He can see clear as day that the woman before him would do anything to keep her child safe, a child of the Big Three. Dionysus would do anything to keep his own children safe.
Dionysus sighed before looking back at the both of them. He was really about to do this, was he? Gods, he missed the taste of wine. “Fine. Let me look at him.”
When the woman returned with the baby boy in her arms, Poseidon loomed over his shoulder and Dionysus somehow resisted the urge to scoff as he examined the baby boy. His uncle’s overprotective streak wasn’t ending anytime soon.
The boy’s hair was black, certain to be unruly. But the bigger issue was the eyes. The boy inherited his father’s sea green eyes and would instantly give him away. “The eyes have to go.”
Both the woman and Poseidon tense and the wine god doesn’t resist scoffing this time. “As in his eye color! Did you think I meant gouging his eyes out?!”
At that moment, the baby reached out and took hold of his fingers, and Dionysus stared at the eyes of Poseidon, of Rhea, on the boy as he examined the divine finger.
Dionysus remembers seeing the same eyes when he was mortal. Rhea had cured him of his madness before teaching him what she knew, making him into who he was today. She didn’t have to, his grandmother had nothing to gain or lose from aiding him.
His grandmother was kind. Poseidon’s children are loyal. They all had the same eyes.
“So you will claim him as your own?” Poseidon asks.
This was madness, but Dionysus was the madness itself. If claiming this child meant that the twins would live, even if Olympus was razed, then he would take it.
“I want full parental rights handed over to me in exchange for that favor, also sworn on the Styx. Is that acceptable?” Dionysus pointedly looked between the baby and father.
His uncle reared back in shock, but squeezed his eyes, pained and sad as he said, “I swear on the Styx to give you full parental rights over my child.” Ugh, his uncle was always so possessive. The sea always takes, blah, blah, blah.
A boom of thunder.
He’s yours now.
“Good.” The wine god looked back at the baby. “Now, I think some changes are in order.”
Dionysus placed a hand over the baby’s head and all three watched as the eyes changed from sea green to vibrant violet. The curls of black hair gained a purple shine that wasn’t there before.
The boy giggled, none the wiser.
Next was a blessing, made easier by the waiving of Poseidon’s rights over the boy.
Now Dionysus can dress the boy all he likes, but nothing he can do can override the boy’s heritage of a child of the sea. So instead he just pushes a bit of his power into the baby, around the same level as his twins, and lets it take the path of least resistance. Or at least, that’s what he wants to do. It’s not like he’s ever done this before with demigod children not his own.
The air smells like grapes when he takes a step back and lets the couple inspect the baby. He assumes they don’t find anything amiss when Poseidon turns and bows his head towards him. “Thank you. I won’t forget this.”
“You better not.” Dionysus looks back. “What's the boy's name anyway?”
“Perseus, Percy for short.” The woman, Sally, answers. The wine god grimaces at the name. Sally quickly adds on. “Persephone, if he was born a girl.”
“Trying to appeal to vanity, huh? Smart on your end.” Personally Dionysus doubts it would work, Father Dearest was a paranoid bastard and Hades wasn’t the kind to be moved by flattery. But clearly the woman took any straws she could grasp. “Are we done here?”
Poseidon nods and Dionysus moves towards the door. “I’ll send over a gift, so keep an eye out for that.”
He zips back to camp before either could respond and slips back into sleep.
Dionysus sends a gift to Sally to give to Percy, a purple dolphin plush that smelt of ripe grapes, a marine companion to the horse plushies he gave to his twins when they were born. If anyone asks questions about the dolphin choice, he’ll simply turn them into one to prove a point.
The thought of giving a child of the sea gifts reserved for children of the vine made a ugly frown show up on his face. The sea spawn named after an arrogant hero did not deserve the love Dionysus had for his children.
He’s yours now.
But Percy isn’t Poseidon’s anymore, he was Dionysus’s and Styx if he going to slack on this one, so he makes the plush, complete with enchantments to ward off monsters, and makes a note to tell his twins they have a little brother once they get older and in camp and thinks nothing more of it.
It’s a week later when Dionysus feels a small rush, a hum behind his ears. A prayer.
From Sally Jackson.
He throws his gaze at the woman in question and finds an altar to him in the living room of her apartment. It’s shabby, obviously makeshift, but Dionysus feels a taste of red wine when Sally pours a bottle of it in a cup as an offering.
Lord Dionysus, thank you for your mercy and accept this humble offering.
It’s enough to lift his mood, a pleasant surprise. He honestly thought the woman would just ignore him for as long as possible before something gave.
Claiming Percy as his own meant that he had claim over the apartment, now reinforced by the altar. He felt the claim of Poseidon over it as well, but he didn’t care about that. Instead, he moves his gaze to where his newly claimed son was napping the day away in the other room.
It’s there that he sees a blue whale plush beside the purple dolphin plush as Percy quietly and peacefully napped, tinged with his uncle’s power, smelling of brine and saltwater.
He can’t help but chuckle to himself at Poseidon’s insecurity.
Things fell back into the routines from before and Dionysus honestly lost track of time. Sally continued her offerings of wine and who was he to deny her, especially with his restrictions. He may be unable to drink wine himself but the restrictions never said anything about offerings and Dionysus wasn’t keen on letting that be known. Chiron might have noticed his slightly improved mood over the years but he let the centaur come to his own conclusions.
Dionysus went ahead and told Ariadne about Percy, so that was one thing taken care of. In that train of thought, he thinks that Castor and Pollux are ready to learn about their little brother.
Zeus’s laws meant the other gods don’t get involved with their children for the most part, if at all. Of course, both his uncles Poseidon and Hades don’t care much about it, often granting their children the right to enter and reside in their kingdoms without issue where the King can’t touch them.
With his unique imprisonment, Dionysus is saddled with the responsibility of watching over everyone else’s brats. However, it also means that he could interact with his children on a regular basis.
Dionysus decided to accompany his twins to the strawberry fields that morning. It being mid March meant that Camp was significantly more empty without the summer campers. Best time of the year, really.
“So what did you want to tell us Dad?” Pollux asks as they move through the rows of plants, absentmindedly checking the fruit. The plants swell in their presence, fruit growing ripe.
Dionysus took a swig of his can. “I wanted to tell you that you have a little brother.”
Castor and Pollux stop what they were doing to look at him. “We have a little brother?”
“Yes, his name is Percy. He lives in Manhattan with his mother-”
The god is interrupted by the rapid fire bombardment of questions the twins launch at him.
“How old is he?”
“Seven-”
“Can we visit?”
“No, too danger-”
“What are his powers?”
“They haven’t shown up yet-”
“What does he like?”
“His mother’s cookies and grapes-”
“What is he like?”
Dionysus huffs. “A brat like the two of you.”
Castor and Pollux each bear innocent grins worthy of Broadway. “Whaaat? We have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The boys run off to Cabin Twelve, shouting over their shoulders about preparing something for their new little brother.
Dionysus shakes his head, fond. He snaps his fingers and a new bed appears in his cabin before the boys even open the door.
Um, Lord Dionysus? I humbly ask for your presence, I have a few questions?
Sally’s voice rang in his head in the evening, a quick glance revealed her in front of the altar again with a more expensive wine, as if she needed a higher quality offering to get him to respond. Not that she needed it, but she didn’t need to know that. Percy is already asleep in his room, the eight year old cuddling two well-loved plushies.
Dionysus appears at the kitchen table, the wine in Sally’s hands already in his grasp. “How’s my second favorite mortal?”
He doesn’t wait for Sally to take a seat before uncapping the bottle and drinking it. The presence of Poseidon’s claim over the apartment meant that Zeus or any other nosey god wouldn’t be able to see him blatantly breaking the rules.
Well, not as easily. But by then he will have finished the whole bottle.
Dionysus lets out a sigh of relief as that feeling of emptiness is sated. “So, you had questions Barnacle Beard couldn’t answer?”
“I’m your second favorite mortal?” Sally asks, confused. Not likely the questions she actually had but he’ll answer all the same. Isn’t he generous?
“Of course you are, you offer me wine of your own volition.” Dionysus takes another swig of the bottle. Sweet, sweet wine. “And hardly anyone has the sense to make an altar to us these days. You even followed the right steps. Now, I doubt that was your actual question.”
Sally sits up at that. “It’s about Percy’s powers.”
The god frowns. “What about them?”
“I think it’s best if I show you.” She gets up and opens the fridge to take out a half-empty plastic water bottle filled with purple liquid. “I gave Percy a water bottle and I just looked away and the water was already changed and-”
Dionysus ignores the rest of what Sally was saying and takes the water bottle and drinks it.
Freshly squeezed grape juice. The exact kind he would conjure if the mood stuck him before he was punished. Certainly not fermented at all to be wine. Though that will likely change as Percy gets older.
Water to wine. The thought makes him start laughing.
“Lord Dionysus?” Sally stares with a bit of apprehension.
“Water to wine! Ha!” The god replies. He sees Sally’s wide-eyed look. “It’s not actual wine, mind you, it’s just grape juice. Don’t worry, as disappointing as it is, I’ll make sure he doesn’t make wine for the foreseeable future. I’m sure that’s your concern?”
Sally nods, a bit of relief as she sags in her chair. Dionysus huffs. “I don’t let my children make wine until they’re of age these days, you have nothing to worry about besides gaslighting him that you put grape powder in the water.”
“Thank you, Lord Dionysus.” Sally fidgets in her chair, hesitant. “Do you happen to have other children right now?”
“Two older boys, twins.” There’s no point in lying, if Percy makes it long enough to get to camp he’ll be sleeping in Cabin Twelve. “Castor and Pollux. They’re at camp and they already know about Percy. In fact, the boys already made a gift for their little brother with his name on it. It’s quite touching.”
“I see.” Sally just sits while Dionysus continues to savor the wine. Daddy Dearest was truly a bastard for punishing him this way.
Sally says nothing for a few minutes, enough that he knows what she’s thinking. “You don’t want him to go to camp, do you?” Dionysus states more than asks.
“Is it that obvious?” Sally admits. Dionysus snaps a Diet Coke in front of her. She opens it and takes a sip without hesitation. Maybe she’s pretending that it's wine and not Coke like he does. “I don’t want to let him go.”
Dionysus sighs. It’s the same with every parent, isn’t it, the clingy-ness. “It’s best to accept that the moment will come that he will have to go to camp. You have to remember that for all that he’s your son, he’s still half-divine. Keeping him by your side is how other decent mortal parents get themselves killed.”
“I know.” Sally confirms. But I still don’t want to let him go, goes unsaid.
Little Percy had taken to leaving blue cookies on Dionysus’s altar, and cups of water turned to grape juice when Sally’s back was turned. The god knows that Sally had attempted to convince the boy that she put powder in that water bottle, but it seems like he didn’t believe her. A little shit in the making, that one.
Percy had also taken to prayer, but unlike Sally’s customary prayers, ones made by obligation, the little dolphin’s prayers were adorable.
‘Good morning, Lord Dionysus! I made more grape juice for you! And here’s a cookie!’
‘Mom bought some grapes yesterday, you have some!
‘We went to the aquarium and some dolphins talked to me!
The sincerity of the offerings reminds Dionysus of the twins when they were younger and sometimes makes him forget that Percy isn’t actually his kid. While Poseidon doesn’t say anything, he just knows that the sea dog was seething with jealousy at the offerings made to Dionysus instead of him.
Poseidon can brew in anger all he likes. Wasn’t it him who approached Dionysus to claim the boy in the first place and agreed to give up his parental rights? It wasn’t his fault that Percy turned out to be an adorable little shit.
But that topic aside, Dionysus can sense Percy’s powers growing in strength, even if the boy doesn’t realize it beyond grape juice.
Sally had called him to fix some mortal bully’s mind that Percy had accidentally driven insane after Percy had enough and fought back. They were lucky the bully had only started manically laughing nonstop and not something worse.
And for some reason that escapes Dionysus, Percy was somehow blamed and expelled for that stunt. For that offense, he cursed the faculty of that school to never know the sweet release of alcohol, skipping straight to hangover at the slightest taste. An appropriate punishment in his opinion.
Of course, Barnacle Beard caught wind of the incident because of course he did.
“You gave him madness!?” Poseidon, armed with his trident, snarls on the beach that Dionysus was oh so graciously invited to. Read: yanked in the middle of a pinochle game and shoved in front of an angry god with nothing better to do.
Dionysus snarled back, summoning his thyrsus. “What I did was let my power adapt itself to yours! I couldn’t completely alter his heritage, so I did the next best thing! Wine and madness are the closest to your domains! This way we can play off Percy as a legacy of yours instead of being his father, like we discussed! Isn’t that what you wanted?!”
It was a risk to even allude to a connection between Percy and Poseidon when Dionysus was supposed to be the father in the scenario, but they needed an explanation for Percy’s more marine inclinations.
If anyone ever came sniffing, Dionysus would begrudgingly admit that Percy is a descendant and legacy of one of Poseidon’s brats who died in World War II, who had a child before leaving for war. The reason why neither of them said anything was because Dionysus was a loving father who didn’t want his son to get the wrong kind of attention.
For Poseidon, he had no more mortal children to dote on and caught notice of Percy when he talked to the dolphins, and did not want Percy to get smited by Zeus like his great-grandfather after the Great Prophecy was delivered.
Legacies still exist out there in the world, most ignorant of their heritage. The monsters had gotten bolder in recent years, causing any demigods who managed to survive and have a life outside to say nothing to their children unless necessary, cutting ties and unwilling to return to their world. Before World War II, at least one-third of the camp population were legacies. Absolutely none of them came to camp these days.
Godly heritage by its nature could skip over generations before popping up in a descendant several decades later. It wasn’t a stretch for Percy to have Poseidon traits after another infusion of ichor in the bloodline.
The only ones Dionysus thought who could poke holes in their story would be Hades and Apollo, but the Lord of the Dead only got more and more busier as the centuries went on and populations grew. He seriously doubts that his uncle would take the time to track down one long dead son of Poseidon to ask if he had a kid. And Apollo was easy to fool with carefully selected words of truth and nothing more.
And the child of Poseidon they chose for Percy’s supposed ancestor did not share his siblings’ tendency for loyalty and fidelity and really got around without bothering to see the results. Did not like to be restrained, Dionysus might joke in any other situation.
Poseidon draws back, still angry but no longer yelling. “I… admit you have a point.” His uncle narrows his eyes. “But you have to hold it back.”
“You talk as if I’ll drive the boy insane myself. He needs a way to defend himself from monsters since water isn’t an option. Weapons only worked with the Grace girl because she already knew too much.” Dionysus argues back. “Of course, there was that other disgusting mortal that wanted Percy for entirely different reasons, who was only stopped because Percy had madness at his disposal.”
Poseidon growls at the reminder of that mortal. The wine god continues. “You don’t have to completely block off water, he loves making it into grape juice, but fish talking to him? The dolphins are already pushing it. Percy needs to be my child first, your legacy second.”
Poseidon’s hand tightens around his trident, clearly displeased, but from the furrowed brows Dionysus assumes he can’t think of anything better.
“Fine.” The sea god grits out before he vanishes in a flourish of brine and sea spray.
Last Dionysus checked, he was the god of theater, even if this damned family tries to upstage him with their dramatism at every opportunity.
If he asks Sally to give him more wine after that conversation, well, that was no one else’s business but his own.
Thalia Grace and her current state as a pine tree was a reminder of what would happen if Percy learned too much too quickly.
Because of course Zeus went for a young starlet in Hollywood. The ego boost that woman got must have broken the roof of her mansion.
And to boast about alluring the God of the Heavens and tell her daughter that she was half-god before she was ready meant the Grace girl’s scent got far more potent to hide from monsters. If it weren’t for Zeus giving his daughter weapons to defend herself and meeting the Hermes boy and the Athena girl, she probably would’ve died in the middle of the country instead of the camp borders. Another child dead among countless others.
At least her death meant a reinforced barrier. A better fate compared to most, despite what the Hermes boy thinks.
Dionysus couldn’t imagine Sally in that situation with Poseidon. Sure, she made sure to read Greek history and instruct Percy how to give offerings as any decent parent of a demigod should, but to tell him of his divine half? No, the mother had too much love to risk Percy like that.
But if Sally insisted on keeping Percy as long as possible, then Dionysus was going to send a satyr to keep an eye on him and extract him if necessary. Poseidon certainly didn’t disagree when he brought it up. Percy’s plush toys could only do so much to hide his scent before it got too powerful.
To her credit, Sally was only resigned about it.
Dionysus looks up from his cards. He thinks he has a good hand. “Grover, I’m sending you on another assignment.”
Grover whips to him in shock. “R-really, my Lord?”
The Grace girl was still something the satyr had blamed himself for despite the fact that Hades had sent all those monsters after them in the first place. It was enough that no one noticed that Poseidon did not send a single monster at the four of them, likely assuming he was responsible for some.
Either way, Grover hadn’t received his licence because of that, but keeping an eye and taking one of his kids over the border to safety? Should be more than enough to earn him his much desired licence.
“Yes, I need you to watch my son. He’s almost twelve and is going to start attracting monsters soon. His mother insists on keeping him for as long as possible, so be ready to extract him from his school if necessary.” Dionysus bids and takes a swig of his Diet Coke. Maybe if Percy gets here in one piece, he’ll remove that restriction he has on Percy and have him slip Dionysus wine in a Coke can.
Under Grover’s nervousness is a bit of hope. “Y-yes sir! I’ll do my best!”
“You better, or else Castor and Pollux will tear you apart for losing their little brother and I won’t stop them.” Dionysus turns back to his game. “You leave in the morning. His name is Perseus Jackson, but prefers Percy. I’ll give you his mother’s contact information then.”
Once Grover leaves, Chiron decides to speak up. “Are you sure it’s wise to send him so soon?”
“It’s been four years and he was just unlucky enough to get a Big Three kid on his very first assignment.” Dionysus plays a card. Percy wasn’t Poseidon’s, he was his. “If anything, I’m throwing him a bone and I’ll be watching closely.”
The god casts his gaze over to the strawberry fields where Castor and Pollux are currently encouraging one particularly stubborn plant to grow fruit, calling in some Demeter kids to come and help.
Soon, Cabin Twelve will gain another occupant.
Grover makes contact with Sally and enrolls in Yancy Academy at the same time as Percy, and some Mist manipulation ensures that Grover is put in the same dorm.
From there, Grover sends his reports to Dionysus, who passes it off to Poseidon. The god actually agreed to restrain some of Percy’s powers, particularly the fish talking, albeit with some grumbling, but took any bit of news about Percy he could get.
It’s a waiting game and while Dionysus knows that Percy is a sweet little shit devoted to his mother and makes offerings whenever he’s home, Percy’s still been kicked out of every school he’s been enrolled in.
Percy does try for Sally, despite the dyslexia and ADHD. But the school that Sally managed to enroll Percy in despite his numerous expulsions was one for troubled children who were from rich families who would not hesitate to harass the satyr for his crutches disguise.
And Percy would not hesitate to protect his new friend.
But for a while, it goes smoothly. No induced madness in any of those brats that clearly deserve it and Percy indulges his grape juice addiction in the dorm when Grover isn’t looking.
Then Zeus’s Master Bolt gets stolen. Zeus accuses Poseidon.
Absolutely wonderful.