familial | MCU x Riordanverse

prologue

Maria di Angelo stood proudly, watching as those valuables she had had too little time to stow and spirit away were taken from her home. Hades was not there to protect them, and Maria understood well enough that his wife only barely allowed their mutual lover to keep what little he did out of a strange, bitter pity.

But these men could not take her children. Nico, scared and confused, was in her arms, and Bianca, crying and angry, clung to her legs. Maria would die before she let these Fascistas take them from her.

They had come to Maria's house much later than they had to the homes of the other Jews in the city, and only then because war was on the rise and because they had put it off long enough out of respect to Maria's father, who had served as a well-respected diplomat in the United States for many years. But despite her father's service, he married a young Jewish woman, and allowed her to "dirty their daughter" with her religion, and so the Fascists could not ignore her presence, her heritage, her religion any longer.

No Jew, no matter how prominent a family they came from, could afford to be overlooked.

So she he stood there, stoic and unfeeling, until they were out of sight, and only then did she let the tears brim in her eyes. But she would not allow them to fall. Not in front of her children. Not when she still had her pride and her dignity.

"Mama," Bianca said, "what are they doing with our stuff?"

Maria sat on the floor next to her, Nico now asleep but still clinging to her neck. "They are taking it. They do not think that we should own it."

"Why?"

"Because we are Jewish, and they do not think the Jews earned what they own." There was a bitter taste in her mouth. She could not think to explain it better.

"But Mama," Bianca protested, "that's--"

"No more, Bianca!" Maria said, much harsher than she intended. Her face melted into a more compassionate gaze. "I'm sorry, Diletto. But I do not know their reasonings any more than that." (It was a lie, but a necessary one.)

"Mama," Nico piped up, his voice scratchy. Perhaps he had not been asleep after all. "What are we going to do now?"

~*~

Winifred Barnes was in the process of fighting the losing battle trying to convince her son James to spend more time at home, or at least visit more often-- he could even bring little Stevie over if he was so worried about him-- when there was a knock on the door.

"Don't think this is over yet, mister," she said, glaring lightheartedly at her son and waving a wooden spoon at him. She pretended she didn't hear his response of "Geez, Ma!" and instead made her way to the creaky wooden door at the front of her house.

She did not expect to see her half-sister, Maria di Angelo, to be standing on her doorstep with two small children.

"Hello, Winnie," Maria said, looking somewhat awkward. "How is George? The children?"

"Maria, wh--" Winifred found herself spluttering in shock. It had, after all, been years since she had seen her (much, much) younger sister, and she never in her life expected that she would see her again this soon. "I don't mean to be rude, but what even brings you here?"

Maria smiled amusedly, but it was tight across her lips, and for the first time Winifred noticed how tired Maria looked. "It's a long story."

"Then why don't you come on in and tell me?"

~*~

In the late 1800's, a young Italian diplomat met a beautiful American girl. As they spent time together, they grew closer, and it seemed only natural that they began to fall in love. They were married a year after their meeting.

From this marriage, a beautiful baby girl was born. For a while, she brought her parents joy. But the joy did not last, and the love ran dry, and so the two lovers came to an amicable divorce, deciding privately to a rather unusual arrangement: the girl would retain custody of the child, named Winifred, and the ambassador would support them from afar. He would be allowed the occasional visit, but other than that, it was best that he stay out of their life, mostly for his reputation, but also for hers.

Their child was raised with little knowledge of her father and who he was, only seeing him every so often, and only for so long. She grew up with the religion of her mother and her mother's mother, and when she was young, married a boy from her Synagogue.

It was around then she learned that her father had remarried and had another daughter, Maria, though the most she saw of her then was a small photograph of the baby and her mother. She only met Maria years and years later, after their father had died and around the birth of her second child, Rebecca, and then only a few times after that.

She did not know this night would be the last.

~*~

Maria appreciated that Winifred sat and listened to her recount how she came to America, and she appreciated that Winifred's son, James, took Nico and Bianca to play with the other children in the small yard in the back of their house.

There was a lot she appreciated about the Barneses in general; even from the little Maria knew about them as individuals, it was not hard for anyone with half a brain to see how considerate and kind they were, and how much they all seemed to love their family. Maria almost felt at home here, a part of their family in more than blood.

But she couldn't...

"Stay," Winifred offered over a glass of wine. It was old and inexpensive, but it was good and full, and what Maria needed then. "George and I could make room-- James usually stays with his friend anyway-- I'm sure we could figure something out."

Maria's heart dropped. She wanted to, she wanted to so much, but the gods were at war, too, and Hades was worried about Maria and their children's safety, which in turn made Maria worry. These gods were cruel, and she could not count on them caring enough to spare the Barneses from whatever they might send the di Angelos' way.

"I... Thank you, Winnie," Maria said, and it was clear she meant it. "But me and my children have found residence with their father in Washington. I just thought that, since I was in America, it was time I visited my sister."

"Well," Winifred said, worried and flattered at the same time, "would you at least stay the night? Washington's a long ways away."

              A few months later, Maria di Angelo was dead. 

~*~

this is so sad alexa play despacito.

anyway here's the prologue. I have a few more chapters written, and then there's a massive to-be-written and THEN i have some chapters after that.