Chapter Text
A loud bang is what startles Percy from his bed, riptide in hand, ready for some sort of battle. He nearly bolts from his bedroom, ready to face whatever stupid monster decided to pick a fight with him of all Demi-gods.
Everything is dark, save for the small kitchen light above the stove. (he keeps that one on for reasons like this) Percy spins riptide idly, just waiting-
“I need your help.”
Percy jumps. Riptide is poised against something’s throat before he knows it. Something, who is actually somebody.
And not just anybody. Of course not. Dionysus. The god pushes the blade away, looking almost amused, as if Percy hasn’t sliced up more opponents than one could feasibly count with it.
“What now?” Percy groans. Why does nobody in this awful family let him sleep anymore? He used to get at least five hours. Now with all these gods deciding his apartment is free game, he’s getting what? Three?
“I need you to pretend I’m not here.”
“Why would I-“
“Don’t ask questions! Just do it.”
Percy squawks in protest, but does legitimately ready himself. It’s odd how he’s gone from (sort of) hating the olympians, to somewhat accepting the majority. (Athena, Hera, Zeus and Ares can still kick rocks, though.)
Instead of teleporting off, Percy watches in mystified awe as the god sprints toward his linen closet, trapping himself inside. Is it possible for the god of madness to go mad himself? Is that what’s happening?
After a few minutes of bewildered exasperation, Percy spins on his heel, very much content with the idea of heading straight back to bed and letting Dionysus rot in that closet.
Unfortunately, he is never lucky. Somebody taps his shoulder, he assumes it’s Dionysus, and lets out a frustrated sigh. “What-“
“Where is my husband?”
Oh shoot. That’s not…that’s not Dionysus. Percy turns so slowly it hurts. There, in all her glory, is the goddess Ariadne. Percy has only seen her once, but she’s arguably an unforgettable sight. Pretty auburn hair, tan skin, and a rounded face that makes her look way younger than she actually is. (But somehow not kid-like the way Hestia and Artemis look)
Ariadne also, aside from pretty, looks really, really, intimidating, and for the time being, absolutely furious. Percy realizes then and there that he will not be lying to her. Dionysus be damned.
“Closet,” he blurts. Percy even points for good measure. “He’s hiding.”
Ariadne smirks. It’s almost teenage, in a weird way. Like she’s just snuck out of camp successfully. “Thought so.” She clasps her hands around her mouth and outright yells, “You have three seconds to get out here Dionysus, or I swear on the Styx you will-“
She doesn’t even have to finish her promise, never mind start counting, before Dionysus sheepishly exits the closet. Percy swears he hears him curse, but nobody mentions it. The god tugs at his curled hair, “Love, let me-“
“Let you explain?” Ariadne hisses. “Oh of course. I’ll let you explain why you’re using Percy Jackson as a scapegoat for conveniently not telling your wife that you’ve had your exile lifted. Yes, please do, Dionysus.”
“You act like I didn’t just forget to tell you. It wasn’t on purpose.” Dionysus retorts.
Even Percy can tell that was not even close to the right thing to say. In the most Annabeth Chase fashion, Percy watches Ariadne blink at her husband like he’s the dumbest man she’s ever seen.
She might be his new favorite goddess.
“And how,” she says, so slowly Percy feels like his apartment is three seconds from being obliterated, “Do you forget something like this?”
“Well technically my exile wasn’t lifted. I’m still required to be at Camp Half-blood if I’m not here.” He explains. Dionysus glares at Percy as if he were somehow the one at fault. “My darling, you know I would never purposely leave you alone-“
She tuts, “Sure. You think I don’t forget your Demi-gods?”
“You said it was fine. We were separated forcibly, and you agreed-”
Oh gross. Percy did not need to know any of that. Their love lives do not belong in his hallway. Blegh.
“I mean, yes!” She throws her arms in the air. This is very much…giving a high school couple that can’t decide if they’re in love or in a very dedicated situationship.
“But I had to find out from Artemis that you’ve been allowed outside! Artemis, Dio! Our time is limited as it is, and now I’ve found out you just..forgot to mention a way for us to..” Ariadne pinches the bridge of her nose, “Nevermind. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Somehow, that seems to make Dionysus more nervous. “My love, it was an honest mistake-“
“You even drew Artemis pictures.” Ariadne pouts. Percy nearly laughs. This might be the funniest godly interaction he’s seen in a while. (And he’s seen Zeus drunk.) “Why wouldn’t you make me one as well? You used to always do small things like that for me.”
“It wasn’t very good anyway.” He retorts. “And Artemis forced me.”
“She would not.”
He splutters, “You always side with her!” A small smirk tugs at Ariadne's lips, and Percy is suddenly getting the inclination that they’re done arguing. What in the world? “You betray me, wife.”
“You’re the one with Demi-gods,” she taunts again.
“Yes, but I didn’t make their mother immortal, did I?”
“Hm. I suppose not.”
Percy clears his throat, “Um…guys? ..Are you..do I need to..” he gestures towards his bedroom door. “I can go if you need some privacy.” Please send me away, Percy thinks, I do not want to see you guys start making out.
Ariadne laughs, “No, my apologies darling. You’re fine. This is your house, no?”
“He will be happy in his room for a while,” Dionysus whispers. The distance between them has closed over the course of their talk. Now they’re standing beside each other. Ariadne shoved her husband's shoulder.
“Uh…yes, this is..my house.” Percy straightens, “If it makes you feel better, Lady Ariadne, I don’t particularly like him here either. At least not by himself.”
The goddess blinks, “Is he usually accompanied?”
“By Hermes and Apollo.” Dionysus clarifies. “Orders from father. We’re meant to be entertaining the brat.”
Used to sly jibes, Percy moves toward the kitchen to fetch himself a bottle of water. Luckily it’s not far enough to be considered a rude exit. Ariadne, scowls.
“I assume you don’t speak to Pollux like this, yes?” She hadn’t liked the tone. Or maybe the word brat. Oh yes, Percy thinks he really, really, likes Ariadne.
“What? No!” Dionysus blurts, looking absolutely offended. For what it’s worth, he really doesn’t talk to Pollux like he talks to the rest of the Demi-gods. He’s a good dad.
“Good,” Ariadne hisses, “I have left you alone for too long if you think calling children cruel names is something acceptable. Apologize to Perseus.”
Percy grins wide now. Years of dealing with Dionysus and he’s never once imagined he’d see the god forced to be nice. Ariadne is the best ever, it’s official. Percy leans over his kitchen counter to stare at his cousin expectantly.
“I’m not going to do that.” Dionysus says with a petulant huff.
Ariadne glares.
“I’m not-“
“Dionysus.”
One word- one simple use of the gods name, and he grovels. Percy has to sympathize because he’d have certainly done the same thing if he were Dionysus and she was Annabeth. “Sorry,” Dionysus apologizes, too quickly.
“What’d you say? My ears are a little sensitive from two wars. Can you repeat that?”
If looks could kill (without consequences, that is. His look could definitely smite if he really wanted) Percy would be on his way to see Uncle H. “He’s taunting me.” Dionysus tells Ariadne.
She shrugs, “You called the boy a brat. I’m not going to defend you. Say sorry.”
“…Sorry.”
Percy beams, bouncing on his heels. So..maybe this was worth having his night interrupted. “No biggie! Hey! Lady Ariadne, has anybody told you how cool you are? You’re really awesome.” Percy tells her. “Feel free to pop in anytime!”
Dionysus narrows his eyes, “You’re only saying that because you think she’s going to make me be nice to you-“
“Hah,” Ariadne smirks, “He’d be right then.”