[Third Person Pov]

Faith took notice of Lucian once more after finishing her embrace of Markus, her hands lingering briefly on his shoulders as she checked him over to make sure he was truly alright. Only when she was satisfied did she step back. She ran the heels of her palms beneath her eyes, wiping away lingering emotion, before fixing Lucian with a sharp, assessing stare. Her eyes narrowed slightly, not hostile—but certainly guarded.

“So,” she said at last, her voice low and edged with bitterness she didn’t bother hiding, “you’re the one who told Markus about who his father was… and what he is.”

Lucian straightened a bit under her scrutiny, then immediately ruined the seriousness of the moment by flashing a casual peace sign and puckering his lips into exaggerated duck lips. “Guilty as charged,” he said lightly. “But in my defense—how was I supposed to know it was meant to be some huge secret?”

Faith let out a short grunt, clearly annoyed but unable to find a real argument against that. Her shoulders sagged just a fraction. “Still,” she admitted reluctantly, “I can’t help but be a little upset with you.”

“Come on, Mom,” Markus muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. He shot Lucian an apologetic look, silently asking him not to make things worse.

“Hey, it’s not my fault,” he said, spreading his hands dramatically. “If you want to blame anyone, blame the Fates. I mean, seriously—me, the son of Hades, transferring to a brand-new school, getting a random roommate, and he just so happens to be the son of Thanatos, who also happens to work for my dad?” He let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s not coincidence. That’s destiny.”

Faith grimaced, her expression twisting as if she hated how much sense that made. “I… can’t really argue with that,” she admitted, sounding almost disheartened and resigned.

“Face it,” Lucian said, grinning ear to ear as he slung an arm around Markus’s shoulders and pulled him in close, “Markus and I are just fated to be together!”

“Don’t say it like that!” Markus snapped, shoving Lucian’s face away with a growl. “You’re going to give her the wrong idea!”

Despite herself, Faith let out a reluctant snicker, shaking her head as amusement slipped past her irritation. “I suppose I can’t stay mad at you,” she said. “But I’m still a little peeved. That part isn’t going away anytime soon.”

“Totally understandable,” Lucian replied, nodding seriously for once. “I’d feel the same if I were in your place. The Fates have a real talent for ruining carefully laid plans.”

Faith studied him for a long moment, as if weighing something internally, before finally turning her gaze down the hallway. They were still standing near the entrance of the apartment. “Well,” she said, gesturing inward, “are you coming inside, or do you have somewhere else to be? I was just about to start making dinner.”

Lucian’s expression softened, his tone becoming genuinely polite. “I don’t mind staying. It would be nice to properly get acquainted. Markus is an important friend to me, after all—it only feels right to get to know his mother.”

“Dude,” Markus groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “you’re really making it sound like something’s going on between us. Stop that.”

“I swear, that one wasn’t intentional,” Lucian laughed as Markus ushered him inside.

“Make yourself at home, I suppose,” Faith said with a small, uncertain smile. “We don’t really have guests, so I’m still learning the whole hospitality thing. Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” Lucian replied courteously.

Markus led them to the couch, and the two sat down. A moment later, Lucian leaned closer and nudged Markus in the side, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Dude,” he whispered, “why didn’t you tell me your mom was hot? I would’ve visited way sooner.”

Markus elbowed him hard in the ribs and hissed back, “That’s my mother. It looks like dying once wasn’t enough for you, you bastard.”

Lucian only chuckled, clearly delighted by the reaction, before straightening up and turning his attention back to Faith.

Lucian, being—as Markus had long since learned—an incurably friendly and social person, had little trouble getting the conversation flowing. He spoke easily, his voice animated as he recounted how he and Markus had first met, how an awkward introduction had somehow turned into an unlikely friendship. His stories were filled with casual humor, small embarrassing details, and just enough exaggeration to keep things entertaining.

From the kitchen, which had a clear view into the living room, Faith paused mid-motion. “Wait—what?” she exclaimed, turning toward them with open surprise. “You’ve been training Markus?!”

“Yes,” Lucian replied without hesitation, leaning comfortably back against the couch. “Mostly teaching him how to control his powers and how to defend himself against monsters.” He shot Markus a sideways grin. “So you really don’t need to worry too much about him. He’s honestly pretty strong—and a fast learner.”

The compliment was very clearly intentional.

Markus immediately slouched lower into his seat, groaning as heat crept up his face. “Stop… please just stop.”

Faith, however, looked genuinely stunned. As Markus reluctantly confirmed Lucian’s words, she learned that Lucian wasn’t just some ordinary demigod—he was considered one of the strongest of his generation. Naturally feared, widely respected, and, according to Markus, practically the unofficial leader of Camp Half-Blood.

Faith shook her head slowly as she returned her attention to the food she was preparing. “You’re around Markus’s age, aren’t you?” she said skeptically. “It’s a little hard to believe everything you’re telling me.”

“I started training before I could even walk properly,” Lucian replied casually. “My mother wanted to create a hero who would surpass all those who came before me.” He smiled faintly. “And she succeeded.”

“I see…” Faith said softly, her tone shifting as sympathy crept in. Her maternal instincts flared at once, and she couldn’t help but imagine a harsh, demanding childhood. “You must have had a very difficult upbringing.”

Lucian chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I actually had a very good childhood—one I look back on fondly.”

The more Lucian spoke, the more Faith found her initial irritation fading. He was polite without being stiff, confident without being arrogant, and surprisingly sincere. Despite how their meeting had begun, she found herself forming a genuinely positive impression of him.

Once Faith was nearly done cooking, Markus moved to set the table. Lucian immediately offered to help, but both of them firmly denied him—he was a guest, after all.

When they finally sat down together to eat, the conversation drifted naturally toward Markus’s first visit to the Underworld and his initial meeting with his father.

“Wait, hold on,” Lucian suddenly said, snickering. “I’ve got something you need to see. You’re going to love this.”

Faith and Markus both looked at him with curiosity—and a hint of concern—as Lucian pulled out his phone. He swiped through a few pictures before handing it across the table.

Faith set her fork down and took the phone. Her eyes widened almost instantly.

“Markus!” she exclaimed sharply, holding up the phone to show him the image of him punching Thanatos square in the face.

“Lucian!” Markus growled, half-rising from his seat. “Why would you show her that?!”

“Because it’s hilarious,” Lucian replied, genuinely confused as to why this was even a question.

“How could you hit your own father?!” Faith scolded in disbelief. “I raised you better than that!”

“Because I thought he deserved it!” Markus shot back, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I didn’t know the full story yet! I thought he abandoned us, so I punched him!”

He turned toward Lucian, glaring daggers. “I’m seriously starting to hate your guts.”

“Kahahaha!” Lucian cackled, eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned back, clearly enjoying every second of this.

The three of them continued talking—arguing, laughing, interrupting one another, their voices rising and overlapping as the dinner carried on. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Faith paused and smiled faintly to herself as Markus and Lucian’s voices filled the apartment.

Home had never felt so lively before.

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