There hasn’t been much to laugh about during the past year. Things just mashed into one another. A year of worrying, avoiding death, running her camp by herself, and risking everything… She can’t see how much she’s changed. She doesn’t know how much less she laughs, how strained her voice has become under the partial façade of strength she’s put up.
But she can see it now, reflected in Jason’s blue eyes, and she doesn’t believe what she sees. Because he’s changed too.
“Because we have our duties.”
Reyna lapses back into Latin, voice hollow with truth —partial truth. Because she could find time for him, especially with Frank as praetor alongside her. She just doesn’t want to. Why should she put herself through memories she’s already had just for him to find out it wasn’t what he wanted after all. And maybe her reasoning has a selfish tone as well, as she locks away those old memories she has of Jason and moves one —tries to move on.
But mostly she doesn’t want to hope that her best friend isn’t quite as lost she she’s believed ever since he stepped off the Argo II. Reyna’s lost too much, and yes, she’s gained too in Nico and at Camp Halfblood, but she doesn’t want to hope for the one thing she thought she lost to better things.
Duty. That’s what he’d been told his whole life. Your duty, your legion comes before yourself. Personal feelings were there to be pushed aside during times of need, and for Jason that was all the time. He was the son of Jupiter, the leader, the one everyone looked up to, and the one who had to be perfect because that’s what everyone saw, everyone assumed.
He was so tired of people telling him what his duty was. He wanted to run and hide away from his purpose even before he lost his memories, and perhaps that was one of the best things about losing them. He couldn’t remember the looks people in the legion would give him or the way they treated him. He didn’t have to worry about keeping up the perfect facade, and when he did fail there would be equals around him to pick up the pieces. Looking back on it, the fear of the moment wasn’t nearly as bad as when those memories came crashing down on him and all those looks haunted his nightmares once more.
For once Jason wanted to do something for himself. Not for his legion, not because of it was his duty, but because he wanted to.
So he took a step towards the praetor, his arms extended and hands finding their place on Reyna’s shoulders. He caught a glimpse of his tattoo, those twelve lines of proof that his life had been dedicated to nothing but New Rome, and a wave of confidence surged through him. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing, but the blonde knew this is what he wanted. So in Latin, Jason answered,
“Our duties are to us, Reyna, to do what we want. The legion won’t collapse if you’re gone for a few days, and I can’t do this without you.”