Magnified
Title: Magnified
Author: oneoffour111
Rating: K+/T
Pairing: Percy/Annabeth
Summary: A post-TLO piece in three parts, focusing on how the River Styx magnified Percy's strengths and weaknesses. Percabeth. R&R, please!
Notes: Has nothing to do with paper bags, but everything to do with Percy Jackson. Hopefully the cut works this time...
*********************
Magnified
*********************
Preface
Without weakness, a hero isn’t believable. He is a character no one can identify with. Even the gods have their flaws-Zeus and his cockiness, Artemis not comprehending boys-so it is safe to say every hero must be at least partly human, or he is merely an invincible figure, far away, with whom no one can relate. As Achilles wisely stated, “No man can be invulnerable.”
On the other hand, a hero must have strength enough to defeat the opposing forces, and strength enough to overcome his inner demons. The hero should be a person someone can look up to or admire. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be a hero; just one more in a sea of faces.
A hero is one who combines strengths and weaknesses in a mixture of courage, skill, and flaw to become a person who improves humankind. Or in Percy Jackson’s case, one who leads a few dozen demigods into battle against the Titan Lord and hundreds of his minions...and comes out on top. Despite those fleeting moments of weakness he experienced, those of hopelessness and of despair, during the War for Olympus Percy showed his many strengths in greater ways than he’d ever dreamed of.
***************
Weaknesses
“Do not do this. It will make you powerful. But it will also make you weak. Your prowess in combat will be beyond any mortal’s, but your weaknesses, your failings will increase as well...The heel is only my physical weakness, demigod. What really killed me was my own arrogance. Beware! Turn back!”
Achilles had known more than Percy had counted on. Spoken in the last few minutes before he jumped in the Styx, those words echoed in Percy’s mind almost constantly now. He knew that bringing the curse of Achilles upon himself had been necessary to win the War for Olympus half a year before, but Percy hadn’t had an idea how not only his strengths, but also his weaknesses would be magnified.
Sometimes Percy was impatient with new campers, and he found it harder than before to control his temper. In disagreements and spars, he sometimes grew cocky and impatient. Annabeth liked to joke that he had a chronic case of male PMS. Percy remembered a scene at the training arena a few weeks ago:
Percy drove his shoulder into the new camper’s stomach. She fell hard, her limbs sprawled on the ground. She started to cry, and he blinked. “Oops. Sorry,” he said sheepishly. The girl only glared at him as Chiron helped her onto her feet and away from the arena.
“Maybe you should take a break, Percy,” he said, his eyes full of reproach.
Percy cursed. He couldn’t help it these days.
“Cool it, Seaweed Brain,” said a voice behind him. “You’re going to give someone another concussion.” He turned around. It was Annabeth, of course.
“It was an accident,” he growled.
She put her hands up and laughed. “What are you, the Minotaur? What did I do?”
Percy grimaced and shoved that memory back into the depths of his mind.
One of the hardest new traits to deal with was battlelust. Percy remembered his frenzy on the Williamsburg Bridge during the War; he’d wanted to destroy every single monster. He hadn’t been content to know he won the battle-he’d wanted to win it all. He’d almost felt like a child of Ares, thirsting for destruction. Percy reminded himself he wasn’t like that, he wasn’t full of anger. He was Perseus Jackson the Brave, the Outgoing, but never the Bloodthirsty. But ever since that day, the hunger for glory in battle was awake in Percy’s psyche. They didn’t call the Styx the River of Hate for nothing.
At first Percy hated having to rest routinely, even though Chiron insisted he needed to. Percy argued that he barely got any sleep during the daytime anyway, what with all the campers running around and yelling. But if he didn’t take his nap, he would often mouth off to someone and end up having to do KP with the harpies, so he figured sleeping was the lesser of two evils. Plus, he found that “I’m gonna go rest, Chiron,” was a convenient excuse to get out of archery training.
On some days, the weaknesses seemed overwhelming. An angry Annabeth or a hurt Grover reminded Percy how important it was to keep his weaknesses in check. If only it wasn’t so dang hard...
“Prepare yourself, foolish boy. Whether you survive this or not, you have sealed your doom!” Achilles’ voice flashed again in Percy’s mind.
Achilles would have been correct-if not for the magnification of Percy’s many strengths.
***************
Strengths
“Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ve got the curse of Achilles now. I’m all invincible and stuff.”
Percy snickered, remembering the look on Annabeth’s face after he said that. It was true; the curse of Achilles had saved his life more times than he could count since he had taken the plunge into the River Styx. For all the weaknesses it had magnified, there were just as many strengths it had enhanced.
Percy’s power over water increased with his dip in the Styx. This was demonstrated in the War for Olympus, and also afterwards. Once only water in the sea was under Percy’s control, but he discovered during his fight with the Titan Hyperion he also could manipulate water vapor. At camp, teasing Nico about his moodiness, Percy once made a storm (threatening to dump water any second) hover over Nico’s head the entire day. Needless to say, Nico only became grumpier.
Another attribute was Percy’s ability to goof around even in the midst of seriousness. Sometimes people forget who they are in times of difficulty; not Percy. His tendency to stay cool even when under pressure was an admirable trait even Annabeth was secretly envious of.
“Percy! I swear, if being a goofball was a sport, you’d be on your way to the Olympic Village right now.” Annabeth was desperately trying to hold in her giggles while mock-scolding him.
“Okay, now it’s time for a sea-monster impression. Ready?” Percy began thrashing around the sandy beach, jumped in the water, and spouted salt water between his teeth. Next, he jumped out, completely dry, and pestered Annabeth: “Now, tell me that wasn’t accurate.”
Annabeth opened her mouth, fully intending to reproach that frustrating Son of Poseidon, but no words came out-only laughter. “Okay! Fine! It was funny. But please, can we get back to work?”
Satisfied, Percy returned to his spot next to Annabeth, and resumed trying to understand the drudgery Annabeth called Algebra 2.
Percy possessed one of the greatest skills in the world-the ability to make Annabeth laugh. His goofiness had once manifested itself as a weakness, an inability to focus. After his trip to the Styx, however, it seemed that maturity had improved his comedic timing so drastically that that weakness had transformed into a strength.
Even though Percy was invincible, after the Styx he learned the importance of relying on others. He was proud of when he’d given Annabeth’s knife to Luke at the climax of the War for Olympus. To see Luke’s face, to Percy the epitome, the very embodiment of evil (which truly, Luke was), wearing a look of remorse-to say the least, it was a foreign concept. Even more foreign was the fact that Percy had to hand over the knife to save Olympus.
His skin had crawled with anticipation to end the war, and to end the grip Luke had held on his life for the past four years, but...for all his friends, cleverness, and strength, not one thing Percy could do would destroy Kronos, except maybe trusting Luke to do the right thing. He could have been proud and tried to save the day himself. He could’ve lingered on his doubts too long and let Luke’s body burn away. But Percy made the right choice. Although indeed he wasn’t the hero, he was a hero in his own right.
“I struggled to my feet. I moved toward him with the knife. I should kill him. That was the plan...My whole world tipped upside down, and I gave the knife to Luke.” Shivering, Percy remembered the emotions he had experienced and the results of that decision. As prophesied, that one decision decided everything. Olympus was preserved.
In the War for Olympus, Percy truly became a man. He carried himself like one, he fought like one, and he loved like one. Boys his age were just starting to learn about true love, beyond silly crushes, past physical desire, and farther than mere carnality. Even the Olympians still had problems with true love. Percy deep down, discovered the truth in the fact that “love is as strong as death...it burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away.” After Annabeth took Ethan Nakamura’s knife for Percy on Williamsburg Bridge, true love’s bond was sealed. And somewhere inside of him, Percy knew it. After that, he protected her and fought for her with a devotion stronger than any monster. The intense love he showed-that was a genuine sign of maturity of strength.
***************
Epilogue
After all this, Percy decided he was glad he had taken on the curse of Achilles. It made some things more difficult, and some things easier, but the most important thing was that his parents, Olympus, and Western civilization were still standing.
Some might even say that after all the turmoil the gods went through, they became a tighter-knit family. Their children were often claimed the moment they passed through the boundary lines at camp, and while Lady Athena required an adjustment period to get used to the fact that her daughter and “that Son of Poseidon" were dating, he had earned enough of her respect for her to let it slide.
Percy’s strengths and weaknesses still worked together for good; any problem his increased impulsiveness got him into could be solved by his amazing fighting skills. Percy was still the same Percy, but with a couple new twists. He and his personality traits had just been...magnified.
A/N: All quotes are from “The Last Olympian” by Rick Riordan except the one at the end of “Strengths”. That one is from Song of Songs 8:6-7. I don’t own any of these quotes or Percy Jackson & the Olympians.
Much gratitude is owed to icy roses (fanfiction username) for beta-ing this piece, as well as writing the scene in Weaknesses set in the arena. She gives fabulous advice and focuses on every facet of writing...not to mention writes beautiful stories herself. I couldn’t have written this without her.
Author: oneoffour111
Rating: K+/T
Pairing: Percy/Annabeth
Summary: A post-TLO piece in three parts, focusing on how the River Styx magnified Percy's strengths and weaknesses. Percabeth. R&R, please!
Notes: Has nothing to do with paper bags, but everything to do with Percy Jackson. Hopefully the cut works this time...
*********************
Magnified
*********************
Preface
Without weakness, a hero isn’t believable. He is a character no one can identify with. Even the gods have their flaws-Zeus and his cockiness, Artemis not comprehending boys-so it is safe to say every hero must be at least partly human, or he is merely an invincible figure, far away, with whom no one can relate. As Achilles wisely stated, “No man can be invulnerable.”
On the other hand, a hero must have strength enough to defeat the opposing forces, and strength enough to overcome his inner demons. The hero should be a person someone can look up to or admire. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be a hero; just one more in a sea of faces.
A hero is one who combines strengths and weaknesses in a mixture of courage, skill, and flaw to become a person who improves humankind. Or in Percy Jackson’s case, one who leads a few dozen demigods into battle against the Titan Lord and hundreds of his minions...and comes out on top. Despite those fleeting moments of weakness he experienced, those of hopelessness and of despair, during the War for Olympus Percy showed his many strengths in greater ways than he’d ever dreamed of.
***************
Weaknesses
“Do not do this. It will make you powerful. But it will also make you weak. Your prowess in combat will be beyond any mortal’s, but your weaknesses, your failings will increase as well...The heel is only my physical weakness, demigod. What really killed me was my own arrogance. Beware! Turn back!”
Achilles had known more than Percy had counted on. Spoken in the last few minutes before he jumped in the Styx, those words echoed in Percy’s mind almost constantly now. He knew that bringing the curse of Achilles upon himself had been necessary to win the War for Olympus half a year before, but Percy hadn’t had an idea how not only his strengths, but also his weaknesses would be magnified.
Sometimes Percy was impatient with new campers, and he found it harder than before to control his temper. In disagreements and spars, he sometimes grew cocky and impatient. Annabeth liked to joke that he had a chronic case of male PMS. Percy remembered a scene at the training arena a few weeks ago:
Percy drove his shoulder into the new camper’s stomach. She fell hard, her limbs sprawled on the ground. She started to cry, and he blinked. “Oops. Sorry,” he said sheepishly. The girl only glared at him as Chiron helped her onto her feet and away from the arena.
“Maybe you should take a break, Percy,” he said, his eyes full of reproach.
Percy cursed. He couldn’t help it these days.
“Cool it, Seaweed Brain,” said a voice behind him. “You’re going to give someone another concussion.” He turned around. It was Annabeth, of course.
“It was an accident,” he growled.
She put her hands up and laughed. “What are you, the Minotaur? What did I do?”
Percy grimaced and shoved that memory back into the depths of his mind.
One of the hardest new traits to deal with was battlelust. Percy remembered his frenzy on the Williamsburg Bridge during the War; he’d wanted to destroy every single monster. He hadn’t been content to know he won the battle-he’d wanted to win it all. He’d almost felt like a child of Ares, thirsting for destruction. Percy reminded himself he wasn’t like that, he wasn’t full of anger. He was Perseus Jackson the Brave, the Outgoing, but never the Bloodthirsty. But ever since that day, the hunger for glory in battle was awake in Percy’s psyche. They didn’t call the Styx the River of Hate for nothing.
At first Percy hated having to rest routinely, even though Chiron insisted he needed to. Percy argued that he barely got any sleep during the daytime anyway, what with all the campers running around and yelling. But if he didn’t take his nap, he would often mouth off to someone and end up having to do KP with the harpies, so he figured sleeping was the lesser of two evils. Plus, he found that “I’m gonna go rest, Chiron,” was a convenient excuse to get out of archery training.
On some days, the weaknesses seemed overwhelming. An angry Annabeth or a hurt Grover reminded Percy how important it was to keep his weaknesses in check. If only it wasn’t so dang hard...
“Prepare yourself, foolish boy. Whether you survive this or not, you have sealed your doom!” Achilles’ voice flashed again in Percy’s mind.
Achilles would have been correct-if not for the magnification of Percy’s many strengths.
***************
Strengths
“Trust me, I’ll be fine. I’ve got the curse of Achilles now. I’m all invincible and stuff.”
Percy snickered, remembering the look on Annabeth’s face after he said that. It was true; the curse of Achilles had saved his life more times than he could count since he had taken the plunge into the River Styx. For all the weaknesses it had magnified, there were just as many strengths it had enhanced.
Percy’s power over water increased with his dip in the Styx. This was demonstrated in the War for Olympus, and also afterwards. Once only water in the sea was under Percy’s control, but he discovered during his fight with the Titan Hyperion he also could manipulate water vapor. At camp, teasing Nico about his moodiness, Percy once made a storm (threatening to dump water any second) hover over Nico’s head the entire day. Needless to say, Nico only became grumpier.
Another attribute was Percy’s ability to goof around even in the midst of seriousness. Sometimes people forget who they are in times of difficulty; not Percy. His tendency to stay cool even when under pressure was an admirable trait even Annabeth was secretly envious of.
“Percy! I swear, if being a goofball was a sport, you’d be on your way to the Olympic Village right now.” Annabeth was desperately trying to hold in her giggles while mock-scolding him.
“Okay, now it’s time for a sea-monster impression. Ready?” Percy began thrashing around the sandy beach, jumped in the water, and spouted salt water between his teeth. Next, he jumped out, completely dry, and pestered Annabeth: “Now, tell me that wasn’t accurate.”
Annabeth opened her mouth, fully intending to reproach that frustrating Son of Poseidon, but no words came out-only laughter. “Okay! Fine! It was funny. But please, can we get back to work?”
Satisfied, Percy returned to his spot next to Annabeth, and resumed trying to understand the drudgery Annabeth called Algebra 2.
Percy possessed one of the greatest skills in the world-the ability to make Annabeth laugh. His goofiness had once manifested itself as a weakness, an inability to focus. After his trip to the Styx, however, it seemed that maturity had improved his comedic timing so drastically that that weakness had transformed into a strength.
Even though Percy was invincible, after the Styx he learned the importance of relying on others. He was proud of when he’d given Annabeth’s knife to Luke at the climax of the War for Olympus. To see Luke’s face, to Percy the epitome, the very embodiment of evil (which truly, Luke was), wearing a look of remorse-to say the least, it was a foreign concept. Even more foreign was the fact that Percy had to hand over the knife to save Olympus.
His skin had crawled with anticipation to end the war, and to end the grip Luke had held on his life for the past four years, but...for all his friends, cleverness, and strength, not one thing Percy could do would destroy Kronos, except maybe trusting Luke to do the right thing. He could have been proud and tried to save the day himself. He could’ve lingered on his doubts too long and let Luke’s body burn away. But Percy made the right choice. Although indeed he wasn’t the hero, he was a hero in his own right.
“I struggled to my feet. I moved toward him with the knife. I should kill him. That was the plan...My whole world tipped upside down, and I gave the knife to Luke.” Shivering, Percy remembered the emotions he had experienced and the results of that decision. As prophesied, that one decision decided everything. Olympus was preserved.
In the War for Olympus, Percy truly became a man. He carried himself like one, he fought like one, and he loved like one. Boys his age were just starting to learn about true love, beyond silly crushes, past physical desire, and farther than mere carnality. Even the Olympians still had problems with true love. Percy deep down, discovered the truth in the fact that “love is as strong as death...it burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame. Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away.” After Annabeth took Ethan Nakamura’s knife for Percy on Williamsburg Bridge, true love’s bond was sealed. And somewhere inside of him, Percy knew it. After that, he protected her and fought for her with a devotion stronger than any monster. The intense love he showed-that was a genuine sign of maturity of strength.
***************
Epilogue
After all this, Percy decided he was glad he had taken on the curse of Achilles. It made some things more difficult, and some things easier, but the most important thing was that his parents, Olympus, and Western civilization were still standing.
Some might even say that after all the turmoil the gods went through, they became a tighter-knit family. Their children were often claimed the moment they passed through the boundary lines at camp, and while Lady Athena required an adjustment period to get used to the fact that her daughter and “that Son of Poseidon" were dating, he had earned enough of her respect for her to let it slide.
Percy’s strengths and weaknesses still worked together for good; any problem his increased impulsiveness got him into could be solved by his amazing fighting skills. Percy was still the same Percy, but with a couple new twists. He and his personality traits had just been...magnified.
A/N: All quotes are from “The Last Olympian” by Rick Riordan except the one at the end of “Strengths”. That one is from Song of Songs 8:6-7. I don’t own any of these quotes or Percy Jackson & the Olympians.
Much gratitude is owed to icy roses (fanfiction username) for beta-ing this piece, as well as writing the scene in Weaknesses set in the arena. She gives fabulous advice and focuses on every facet of writing...not to mention writes beautiful stories herself. I couldn’t have written this without her.