ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

ι

SPARTA was just as she remembered, and just like the last time her nerves were nearly nullified by Annabeth's insistence on checking out just about every important site. Aza didn't mind the archaeology museum (of the museums she'd been dragged to, it was one of the most fun), but the National Museum of Olives and Olive Oil was unnecessary (to her) at best. Aza didn't want, or need, to know nearly as many olive facts as she did now – most of which she learned from her best friend.

Between Annabeth on her left and Piper on her right, anxiety buzzed around her head like an effervescent fly, and Aza's internal monologue begged for an end to the suffering. She remembered that awful human-fly hybrid from the movie The Fly, screaming, "Help meeeee," and shivered, shifting her mind as best she could from the way Clarisse would incessantly torture them as children, after she goaded Aza into watching it (knowing full well it would scar her).

It was just one of those days, she decided, only minutes after waking up ever so pleasantly to Annabeth beating two shields together and hollering at the top of her lungs. Piper had the decency to give a bashful smile – from a safe distance behind the blonde – as she began to recount her dream.

Nightmare was far more accurate. Aza's family trauma seemed far less important after Piper recounted the giants' discussion, from the Acropolis. Finally, their enemy was planning to strike and they were still scrambling to place the pieces on the board. Not only was a small force awaiting them in Sparta, but Athens – the Parthenon, sacred to Athena and heart of the Olympians – crawled with foe, old and new. Even Porphyrion, who nearly killed her, was a plaything compared to Thoon, who mirrored the Three Fates and aimed to strangle the few beings even the Olympians feared.

There was no choice, but to push on. Leo was probably still repairing the Argo's toilets, which synchronously burst the instant Percy heard their plight. Luckily, the handy little bugger made their mast electricity-friendly, so when the loud-outh son of Poseidon tattled and lightning struck the top, it was easily conducted. Sparta looked friendly, compared to Annabeth and Aza's boyfriends.

All of it, but the ruins on the edge of town. On the hill, which once housed Sparta's acropolis, Aza could clearly see her sister's tomb, down the gentle slope, nestled in a small clearing of yellow grass and trampled wildflowers. The rest of the ruins stretched out for almost a quarter mile: weathered limestone blocks, worn to almost the base, and some sections of marble floor. A couple crumbling walls slept in the shade of an olive-tree grove.

Piper wiped the sweat from her brow and eagerly accepted Annabeth's extra bottle of water. She raised a finger as she chugged it and wiped her mouth before panting, "You'd think a thirty-foot-tall giant would be a little easier to find."

Aza chuckled dryly. "You'd think, but don't we always say that?"

Expecting Annabeth to laugh, she turned towards the blonde. Her eyes were hazy, and she fiddled her red coral pendant, a gift from Percy. Aza met Piper's eyes before slowly reaching forward to tug on a blonde curl. "Thinking about a special someone?"

Annabeth's brows sewed together as she nodded, and Aza's tentative smile slowly faded. Of course, they'd been different since coming back from Tartarus – and she knew they would, from the moment she helplessly watched them tumble into infernal darkness. Sometimes, their eyes reminded her of Nico's, like a shattered stained-glass window.

Piper's voice was soft. "He seems to be adjusting. He's smiling more often. You know he cares about you more than ever."

"That's never been a question," Aza's lips twitched. "That boy is pathetically head-over-heels for her – he always has been. Percy'll bounce back. He always does."