Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The world is hazy. It is spinning and he is staring up at the clouds. He feels water vapor caressing his back as he falls from Olympus, the drops collecting in his hair then quickly being snatched by the wind. It is cold, he realizes. And I am going to die.

At first, he accepts this. This is what he had agreed to. Not entirely, but in the end this was what he had agreed to. To make a difference. To get his mother and all the other minor gods and goddesses up on Olympus. He had done his job well. He felt melancholy as he began to realize he would never be able to see the end result of it.

But what if he could? He began to think. His mind felt as though it was practically buzzing, and he could feel his heart beat deepen, and the shrapnel of blade stuck in his abdomen pulsed with pain in sync with his heart. If he was going to pray to anyone, he had to do it consciously.

"Boreas, Great God of the North Wind." Ethan thought it would be impossible to choke while falling, but he was proven wrong as a splatter of blood came from his lungs and escaped his body into the sky as he continued to plummet.

"I beg of you to save me. I will give anything you ask in return that is in my ability to give. Just let me live to see tomorrow." Ethan begged, and as the wind whistled in his ears, Ethan closed his eyes and drifted into a cold sleep. He was just barely awake when he felt his spine settle against something soft, unexpectedly.

+++

Ethan didn't really now how to describe his new situation. It was definitely preferred over being dead but not by much. Conscious thought rarely occurred to him, and the best way he could describe daily life was like this;

Open door. Close door. Don't let people in door. Stand.

He had agreed to become a soldier of ice in Boreas's palace in Quebec, and from there he got to witness many interesting things. Such as arguments among the family, angry mutters when someone stormed out of the throne room.

But it wasn't like Ethan remembered much. Something about the frost coating his semi-immortal skin felt odd. Wrong. Strange. Insert any other synonym for something that didn't feel right. It made his mind feel numb, and allowed him to move his limbs when he was instructed to do a task. He was rarely given orders aloud, most of them just from gut feelings but in his head.

He was content with this life. Or maybe content wasn't with the right connotation. Okay was a better word for it. He was fine doing this for however long he needed. The concept of bored never really struck him, and neither did the concept of time and its passing. Faces faded from memory over the course of however long he had been a soldier of frost. Names dwindled like candlelight in the evening, at first burning and searing their mark into the forefront of his mind and then beginning to fade and burn out as if never there in the first place.

It took another long while, but as the concept of time went on, he slowly began to forget what he was. For all tenses and purposes, he began to melt into the role he had been given. He didn't really remember things about why or when or how. But he was here. That was enough.

He never felt hunger or pain or fatigue. He was fine where he was. He didn't have to know who he was, or where he had come from or why he was here. He just knew that he was. And that was all.

Chapter Text

Percy had thought Ethan was dead. Everyone thought the same thing. Annabeth and Grover and even the man who had been the cause of his death believed he was done for. Sure, Luke hadn't said any thing explicitly about Ethan being dead while he was speaking his last words but it was heavily implied. Nobody could survive that kind of fall. And even if they could, with Ethan's injuries he was sure to have been dead.

But of course, this was a world where the Greek Pantheon existed, so obviously there were more ways than one to not die. That didn't mean that Percy went unsurprised when he encountered Ethan in Boreas's palace in Quebec.

Normally, after hearing more than a few things about it from others at camp who had heard about it from Leo, he wasn't fond of pulling the short straw when they split up the tasks for dealing with a threat in Manhattan. Luckily for them, this time it wasn't a Titan army invading or any of the other assorted things Percy has had to deal with in years past.

It was simply just an odd thing where monsters kept forming and being reborn in a specific part of southern Manhattan, and they all had just gathered in one spot for a few months now. Any scouts sent out were smelled or spotted too quickly to be of much use to see what was going on. They needed air support.

So, of course, send everyone else on another important aspect of the mission and tell Percy, "Hey go to Canada." He wasn't complaining, sure, the weather was.. Something.

But if he had begun to doubt the weather outside, the weather inside was worse. It felt as though Percy was freezing from the inside out, but he was smart enough not to use any water tricks to his advantage. He had a feeling that wouldn't grant him a very warm welcome.

He was escorted through the palace by Zethes and Calais. Zethes complained on and on about pretty girls and how trying to vaporize him and his brother wasn't at all fair, and Calais agreed with simple "Mhm's" as they continued to show Percy where Boreas's throne room was.

Percy thanked the gods under his breath when Zethes finally stopped talking about girls and gestured towards a set of doors. "Our father should be right in there." Then he paused. And continued talking. "Do you speak French, son of Poseidon?"

"Only a bit. Not really fluently just some stuff I've picked up from friends." Percy admitted with a shrug. Zethes hummed and nodded, a small mischievous smile on his face as he responded with, "Well, our father prefers to speak in French. I can come along to translate if need be."

Percy groaned internally. Maybe he shouldn't have thanked the gods so soon. "Yeah, that'd be helpful." Percy said, keeping his tone even and polite as possible.

He turned to the doors, about to take a step forward but before he could, two swords fell from opposing sides of the doors, clashing in front of Percy to prevent easy entry. On instinct, Percy's hand went for where Riptide stayed stored in his pocket. Then the identity of the guard on the right caught his eye, and the pen fell to the ground without the cap having been removed yet.

The guard on the right stared straight forward at some unnoticeable point in the distance, encased in layers of ice and frost but somehow still had the mobility to move his sword. His left eye was covered by a worn eye patch that covered his eye socket. Clad in leather armor and a blue sweatshirt, he didn't look older than maybe sixteen at the most.

"..Ethan..?" Percy couldn't stop the name once it went past his throat, staring shocked at the demigod encased in ice. The boy he had failed to protect, the boy who had given his last words to ensure his mother would have a place on Olympus. He was right here in front of him. Lifeless and cold, it seemed, but nonetheless there.

+++

Today should have been a normal day. A quiet day. A calm day for him. It normally was. Emotion didn't come as easily as it used to anymore. There was no need for anger or unease or depression inside the ice. There was only existence.

The cold didn't even feel like much anymore. Neither did the moving of his muscles when directed of him. While his memories were all but faded and blurred, that didn't really matter. Without the emotion that was supposed to be attached to each memory, they were easy to lose track of and forget entirely.

So things that he had originally been able to call on at a moment's notice were suddenly almost impossible to think of despite his efforts. Like his name, or friends, or family, if he ever even had one at one point. The only things that were even vaguely there were blurs of faces, though he couldn't tell you whether a person was a friend, a foe, or his mother.

Except this person who stood in front of him now. He was familiar. His face seemed odd through the ice, or maybe he just looked that way normally. But, everything sounded far away most of the time anyways. He was instructed to ignore, to always ignore what was there.

Whoever approached Boreas's throne room was a guest, not meant to meddle with the frozen soldiers who stood in various positions throughout the palace. They became more abundant closer to the throne room though.

But the way the new person spoke seemed to figuratively cut through the ice. He could hear him loudly and clearly. He had said a word that sent shivers of deja vu up his spine.

Ethan.

He felt like he should know that word. It sounded familiar enough. Very familiar. It was on the tip of his tongue, but then a wave of calm washed over him. It felt almost forced but it quickly overtook him anyways.

There was nothing to worry about. It was just another word of conversation and a guest that got too close to the door may be angry. Of course, he didn't think the new arrival was angry. He seemed more sad. But reasoning got the better of him. It told him of course the arrival was angry. Most of them were. Thinking they were hotshots, letting pride overtake their human decency.

So he kept staring off into the distance, ignoring the boy and the voice and remaining unmoved. That is until he got another thought, one that presented itself sharp and clear in his mind.

Lower the sword. So, of course, he did so, and in sync so did the other guard with the sound of metal against metal. He didn't interact with anyone, but the other guard seemed friendly enough if he ever wanted to. But they both had a duty, and it would be foolish to overlook that priority to socialize with another one of the frozen.

+++

Percy continued to stare at Ethan for a while, until Zethes leaned over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised curiously to obstruct Percy's gaze. He looked back over his own shoulder to look at Ethan, then back to Percy. A small smile played on his lips.

"You know that one?" he asked, as if talking about a TV show or a movie and not a (hopefully) living and breathing person. A person who had a life and a family and a home, now that Percy had made a deal with the gods.

Percy's gaze hardened as he stared at Zethes, taking a step back so his shoulder wasn't shadowed by the immortal. "Yeah. I know him." Percy emphasized the pronoun, to make it clear it was a person they were speaking of and not a toy or a play thing or something to order around when you got bored.

Zethes flew back a pace, putting his hands up in mock surrender as his grin only grew. "Geez, can't kill a guy for asking." He looked back over his shoulder at Ethan again, then looked back to Percy. His eyes widened and his grin stretched wider. "Oooohhhh, I get it now."

Percy raised an eyebrow, a silent prompt for Zethes to state whatever stupid ideal came to his thick skull next. "You knew him knew him, didn't you?"

Percy was taken aback by this idea, so much that he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He and Ethan were never involved and Percy didn't even like him. He was dating Annabeth, but he figured it'd be safer to go without responding to that comment. Not that it deserved a response anyways.

"When do you think your father will be available to talk?" Percy asked, bending over to retrieve Riptide from the ground and stashing it in his pocket again.

Zethes shrugged, opening his mouth to say something again before the sound of metal against metal drew his attention as well as Percy's. The swords had moved out of the way. Each soldier on either side now had their blades stashed away in their sheaths. They each grabbed a handle on the doors and opened them in sync, not struggling but doing it in a neat order that could've been arranged by an Olympic swim team coach.

"Well, there's your answer." Zethes grinned as he gestured in a mock politeness for Percy to go ahead of him. With one last glance over his shoulder at the still frozen Ethan, Percy went into the throne room.

Chapter Text

When Percy entered the throne room of Boreas, he saw the God of the North Wind himself sitting on a throne, dark purple wings stretching out from presumably his back. He wore a suit that seemed to be woven from snow, hair and beard coated in layers of ice and frost. 

Percy took one more step forward into the throne room as the doors closed behind him. He couldn't shake the eerie feeling he got just from hearing the creak of the doors. He waited in awkward silence for a while. Partially to see who would have to break it first. 

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.

"Fils de Poséidon," Boreas addressed Percy, tilting his chin up slightly as he regarded the demigod.

"Pourquoi êtes-vous ici?" he asked.

Using the small amount of French that he'd picked up over the years from friends, Percy was able to comprehend the French. He didn't know enough to respond in French though. 

"I am here to ask a favor of you." Percy made sure that he kept his tone light and respectful. He did not want to make an enemy of the god who held an army frozen demigods at his will. 

Luckily, Boreas seemed to be okay with the English. Percy figured that his tone had greatly assisted him with that. Boreas hummed to himself, then gestured for Percy to continue.

"We need extra eyes on the southern part of Manhattan. There seems to be some sort of.. monster mutiny? It's been going on for a while now and no one can get close enough without alerting them to see just exactly what's going on." 

"We would greatly appreciate an aerial view and someone to report back to us." He added soon after that to make his point clearer. 

Boreas seemed to consider this for a long few minutes, before nodding, to Zethes' surprise. "J’ai entendu de bonnes paroles à ton sujet, fils de Poséidon. Vous pouvez avoir l’aide de Calais et Zethes." At whatever had just been said, Zethes did not seem too thrilled about it. 

Percy tried to make sense of the French words he had heard by using his limited previous knowledge. He sighed defeatedly after a few frustrating moments, then turned to Zethes. 

"What did he say?.."

Zethes scowled as he translated for Percy his father's words. "He's heard good things about you, and you may have the help of myself and Calais." Oh. So that was why Zethes seemed a bit off.

Once Percy had finally looked at the bigger picture, he managed to keep his legs from wobbling with relief. He had done what he came here to do. Technically, he could leave now.

But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Not with Ethan still frozen, and not with a chance that the boy may still be alive under the frost. So, attempting to hide his eagerness, Percy met Boreas's gaze.

"Thank you so much." Percy dipped his head respectfully. He honestly hadn't expected to get this far this fast. "I do have another question however." he took a moment and took a deep breath. Boreas raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt. Percy took that as a sign to continue.

"That solider.. posted outside with the eye patch.. Are you attached to him at all?" Percy almost regretted asking the question as soon as it left his mouth when Zethes began to translate in French to his father. 

Boreas seemed confused by the question, his ice coated eyebrows knitting together as he answered. "Celui avec le cache-œil? Non, je n’ai aucun attachement à celui-là. Pourquoi demandez-vous?" Boreas asked.

"He doesn't have an attachment to the guy with the eyepatch outside. But he's curious as to why you want to know." Zethes translated, grinning at Percy. As the moments passed by, Percy realized he didn't want to know why Zethes was grinning. 

It took a large bit of his pride, but Percy straightened his posture and stared at Boreas.

"He has a family, back at Camp Half-Blood." He began to explain, fumbling. "I owe him my life." Percy looked back over his shoulder only for a millisecond. Just to remind himself of who was waiting on the other side of it. That was enough to give him courage to turn back around and continue speaking.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to set him free?" Percy knew he had already asked for a lot and he knew he had already received more than enough, but it was worth a shot anyways. 

Boreas looked at the doors in which Percy had entered to get his throne room and frowned, as if he was worried Percy would ask for the doors themselves next. For a moment, he worried he had overstepped. 

"Vous pouvez le prendre, fils de Poséidon. Mais si je fais appel à vous à un moment donné dans le futur, vous ne poserez pas de questions, mais vous viendrez simplement à mon aide."

Zethes listened intently as his father spoke, waiting a few moments until after he had finished before he turned back around to look at Percy. "He said you can take the demigod with the eyepatch." He gave Percy a thumbs up and a wink.

"Buuut," Zethes began. Percy put forth all his effort not to scowl. There was always a but. "If he ever needs your help and calls for you, you have to come as soon as he calls without question."

Percy felt almost all of his muscles clench at once. He hated the idea of being indebted to anyone, especially a god. 

But he remembered Ethan's face. He remembered his promise and he remembered having to break the news to the children in the Nemesis cabin that their brother was gone and wasn't coming back.

But this was his chance to make things right again. To bring Ethan back home. To not fail him again.

"It's a deal." Percy said determinedly with a nod. 

Chapter Text

Boreas seemed to understand this without needing Zethes for translation purposes.He stared at the doors for a moment, as if willing for them to open with his mind.

To Percy's surprise, the guard on the other side of the doors opened one of them, and in walked Ethan. Still frozen, and still in a rigid soldier like stance. 

He didn't cast Percy so much as a glance, his arms firmly at his sides as he looked at Boreas, presumably awaiting further instructions. Percy didn't hear any words being spoken, but Ethan stood perfectly still as Boreas raised his left arm and made a vague gesture at his figure. 

Percy kept his eyes on Ethan the entire time, waiting patiently to see what would happen. He strained his ears to hear for even the smallest word muttered, but all he heard was the sound of ice crackling slowly. Ethan's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, but Percy didn't see much change other than that. 

Finally, Boreas looked at him and said, "Si vous l’emportez avec vous, le demi-dieu commencera lentement à fondre de sa coquille. J’ai déjà enlevé la couche magique de givre." 

Zethes huffed, then translated for Percy. "He said he's already removed the magic of the frost. Just take him with you and he will regain his free will and mind as the regular ice melts on its own." He had his arms crossed, but gave Percy a knowing wink that made him grateful he couldn't hear any of Zethes' thoughts. 

"That's fine," Percy assured Boreas with a polite smile, dipping his head slightly. He figured they should begin to head back to camp before the magic wore off entirely. He wanted Ethan to have open air to breathe for himself. He had a feeling the boy hadn't been outside in a while. Most likely years.

He turned and thanked Boreas for his generosity, and faced Ethan once more. "We're going home,  okay?" He made sure his voice sounded like a solemn promise, because it was. He was going to make sure Ethan could get home.

Return to camp, maybe even live his life as a counselor if he so pleased. That was the beauty of freedom. Ethan could do whatever he wished, so long as he wasn't hurting people or joining another army. 

Ethan stared blankly at Percy for a few moments, slowly registering what the other said before just giving a rigid and partially forced nod.

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt on the inside at the state of the boy. Once so loud and outspoken and snappy towards Percy, now reduced to someone that barely had control over his own motor functions, much less his mind. 

At least this time, he was actually looking at Percy and not some point in the distance. That was progress, despite how little and insignificant it may have seemed. Percy decided that his next goal would be a simple word. Even an mhm would suffice. 

Percy began to walk to the doors, thanking Zethes on the way out. He noticed that Ethan wasn't behind him, frowning slightly when he looked over his shoulder to see Ethan standing in the same position as before, not having moved once. 

"Come on," Percy encouraged, waving a beckoning hand for Ethan to come towards the doors. Only when Percy gestured did Ethan actually move and begin to follow him out of the palace and eventually past the exit. 

+++ 

Ethan followed alongside Percy the entire time, silent for a good long while. Percy had figured it was best to walk for now instead of calling for Blackjack. Partially because he wanted to give Ethan more time to defrost and partially because he didn't want Blackjack to freak out. 

As they continued to travel, the ice coating Ethan's small frame began to melt into water and soak into his clothes and hair, leaving his hair pressed against his face and his over his eyepatch. 

Walking in the heat all afternoon allowed for most of the water to evaporate, and only then did Ethan's movements become less rigid and more fluid. Approaching Half Blood Hill, Ethan stopped and turned to stare directly at him. 

"Percy." he said, more of a question than a lone statement.

The way his head was tilted ever so slightly only conveyed his confusion further, which made Percy almost wobble with relief. Ethan was showing something other than a deadpan expression. This was a lot, especially for the silence he had had to endure for quite a while now. The way Ethan raised his eyebrow made it seem like he was trying to confirm whether he got the name right or not. 

Percy smiled. "Yeah, it's Percy.." He trailed off, unsure how to continue this conversation. He was desperate, he didn't want Ethan to go silent again. "How are you feeling?" he asked, figuring that Ethan was probably confused, and maybe even scared about everything that was happening. 

"Good." The one eyed boy answered. "Things are.. fuzzy. And blurry. But it feels a lot warmer out here than it was in there." He looked behind his shoulder as if he'd be able to see Boreas' Palace from here.

"Ethan I'm—" he stumbled over the words. "I'm ..so sorry I couldn't protect you." A wave of guilt washed over Percy, guilt that had been bubbling in his gut for who knows how long. "It wasn't fair. I should've saved you. Done something." 

Surprisingly, the son of Nemesis shook his head. "Don't blame yourself. I charged at Kronos," he paused, almost as if waiting for Percy to tell him that wasn't correct. "And it was my choice in the first place. My decisions weren't your fault and neither are their reactions." 

Ethan stared up at the pine tree on the hill, hands in his pockets. He seemed calm, much calmer than Percy had ever seen him on the battlefield or in the Labyrinth. Then again, they were above ground and Percy had just saved him from eternity in a prison of ice. 

Percy knew that Ethan didn't blame him for his almost-death but he felt like he should have been blamed. The feeling of guilt lingered but didn't want to focus on it. He should bring up some happy news. "..I kept my promise. You have a cabin now. For you and your siblings." 

A look of satisfaction crossed Ethan's face, a small smile settling on his lips. "Siblings and a cabin.." he trailed off, then chuckled, shaking his head. "I never thought I'd see the day." He looked towards the camp again, then looked towards the sky, whispering something in Greek before he looked back at Percy. "I'm glad you came through with your promise." 

"I always keep my promises Ethan. You were no exception to that rule. All the minor gods and goddesses have cabins now." Percy couldn't help but smile when he saw a shocked expression pass over Ethan's face. 

"All of them?" Ethan couldn't help but look stunned. "I never doubted your ability to keep a promise." he assured Percy. "I'm just surprised the Olympians granted it."

Chapter Text

"All the gods with children, at least. If there isn't one for their godly parent already when they arrive at camp, we can have one built. They all promised to claim their kids at twelve." Percy seemed happy with being able to share this information with Ethan.

"Hell, even Circe has a cabin."