We Can Run

Nico di Angelo hates dressing up.

It’s ironic - he’s been doing it his whole life. Literally. When he was just born, he was put in a tiny tux and shown to all of the country what he looked like. His country. The country he’d one day rule, with a girl by his side and a son in front of him and hopefully daughters, too-

But for the time being, he’s just Nico. Crown Prince of Malavita, his country. Prince Nico, the seventeen year old boy who looks damn good when he’s dressed up. Piper, the royal family’s seamstress, really outdid herself making this. As his best friend Jason would say, “Piper always outdoes herself!” Jason’s kind of got a schoolboy crush on the girl. Nico can’t blame him; she’s gorgeous, just… not his type.

In front of the mirror, Nico fixes his suit. It’s black (black as the sword that he always has hanging by his side), with a dark gray undershirt and a royal purple tie. Normally he’d say he looks ridiculous, but he really doesn’t. He looks amazing, if he does say so himself.

He does. Say so himself, he means.

The dark colors compliment his olive skin, almost-curly black hair and dark eyes. He’s pretty good looking, in his opinion. Definitely not below average. In addition to those features, he has an angular face, with long lashes and two small but deep dimples when he smiles. He never does, but it’s a backup for when he does.

Behind him, the door bursts open, and in jogs Jason. Nico resists the urge to roll his eyes. Jason’s always bursting in. It’s never an enter - Jason doesn’t enter anywhere. He doesn’t even walk inside. It’s a burst in or a barge in or a stumbles in - one time it was a vomits in (he threw up so hard he fell into the next room. That was really something).

Nico turns away from the mirror to face his friend, raising a single eyebrow. “Are you finished?” He asks cooley, lips turned down into his usual frown. Jason collects and steadies himself on his (large) feet, all six foot three inches of him. Grinning down at the smaller boy, he nods. (Nico is only five foot ten. He’s not that short, but compared to the giant before him, it’s embarrassingly pitiful).

“I’m fine,” Jason nods. “I fell. Into the door.”

“I noticed.”

“Yeah. You look great!”

Nico glances into the mirror again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Good,” he smirks. “I know. You look good as well.” He does. Jason’s suit is gray, with a light blue tie and a white undershirt. His short blonde hair is - well, short and blonde, as per usual, and his wire glasses are polished and not broken for once.

“Piper made the suit just for me. Like, I know she usually does. But she tailored it to go with my hair and eyes. She did such a great job.” Jason turns to check out his backside in the mirror. Before he can compliment the way it makes his rear look (as Nico knows he would), Nico exits the room. Jason trips after him, catching himself on a passing servant. His eyes light up apologetically and rushes out a quick but meaningful, “I’m sorry!”

The tie makes his hair look great, and the gray goes well with the slight grayness in his otherwise light blue eyes. Nico is kind of jealous. Jason always looks amazing. Nico sometimes calls him “Golden Boy.”

“Let’s just get down to the dining hall,” sighs Nico, who begins the walk across the castle to the Grand Dining Hall. Jason jogs to catch up. “Do you know when the royal family for, uh…”

“Olympus?”

“Olympus. Right. When are they showing up?”

In addition to being his best friend (and comic relief, Nico admits), Jason remembers everything Nico needs to, since he is incapable. Also, Nico doesn’t care. Jason does.

He has to think about it, but after a moment, “Tomorrow.”

“Then why are we dressed up tonight?” Nico complains.

Jason shrugs. “Practice dinner?”

Nico doesn’t feel like arguing.

They make their way down to the dining hall, where soldiers stand in front, guarding the door. They look at Nico and Jason, and all it takes from Nico is a subtle raise of the eyebrow for them to open the doors. Inside, the commotion immediately alerts them that Jason was wrong. Olympus is coming today. In fact, they’re already here.

So this is why Nico was forced into the suit.

Masking his surprised expression as quickly as he can, he puts on a stone cold face, void of emotion, and straightens his shoulders. Jason has to almost jog to catch up to his long, fluid strides. Nico stares straight ahead. He avoids eye contact with anyone except for his father, King Hades. The king is sitting at the head of the table, as usual, in a marble black suit. His cape is draped over the back of the chair, a deep purple - the same hue as Nico’s tie. Nico wants to look away - the cold black of his father’s eyes chill his blood - but he cannot, not until his father nods. Hades does, after a moment, and then Nico looks at the queen.

Queen Persephone is a royal bitch - literally. Nico despises her. It’s mutual, their hatred; she dislikes him just as much as he does her. As his stepmother, she seems to think she knows what is best for him. As her stepson, he knows she does not know what is best for him. Mainly because even he doesn’t know. But anything she suggests, he decides, is not what is best for him.

Despite her bitchy nature, Nico has to give props to the king. She is stunning. Long, dark auburn curls, golden eyes, fair skin. She has a natural affinity for plants, flowers, mostly. She can grow any type of flower and turn it from an ugly seed to a beautiful bud. The black rose pinned to her purple dress is exquisite, meaning it came, clipped, from her garden.

Once she nods, he is able to take a seat. Normally, he would sit at the right of his father, but instead, an unfamiliar man is in his spot. Nico knows his place. He sits at the empty seat, a few down from the King Apollo, next to his half-sister, Hazel, and Jason, and across from a younger Apollo.

The king and his son, the Crown Prince of Olympus, are both equally picture-esque. They both have sun-tanned skin and an athletic build, with shaggy blonde hair and a natural smile that fits like a jigsaw puzzle on their face. Next to the prince sits a younger boy with dark copper skin and tight, tight braids that run down his skull. He taps a gentle beat on the table and nods to Nico as he sits. On the other side of the prince is a red-haired fidgeting girl. She ignores Nico. He ignores the irritation bubbling in his throat.

Once Nico and Jason, the last to arrive, sit, Hades rises and nods deeply to the table. It’s the two royal families, plus a few others, which Nico doesn’t care to examine at the moment. He wants to eat and get back to his quarters to be alone. Well, alone maybe, depending on whether or not Jason decides to be with Piper. He doesn’t quite know what to make of those two. Jason only expresses his fondness for the girl, and when she’s tailoring Nico’s clothes, he is usually irritated and not much for conversation. She doesn’t seem to mind that. He thinks he scares her.

“Welcome,” Hades smiles, which is a truly terrifying thing. It’s not so much of a smile as a smirk, like a predator to his prey. “To Malavita. It’s an honor to host the royal family of Olympus. I trust you will become acquainted with Malavita and all of the things we have to offer, and an opportunity will flourish to form an alliance between our two countries.” He nods towards the food. “For now, though, let’s eat.”

So they do. Nico, for one, doesn’t eat much - he never does at huge gatherings, really - but others do. Hazel, his half-sister, nudges him with her elbow.

“You’re not going to eat anything?” She asks. He gives her a small smile and takes a roll. He’ll have a little, just for her. He loves her. She’s only half his sister - a bastard, but her mother died, and Hades took pity on her. She doesn’t look much like him. Nico, that is. Her skin is dark, hair kinky, but she shares the dimples. Hers are shown more often.

“There. I ate something.”

She shows him the dimples. “Good,” then turns to talk to the princess of Olympus. On the other side of him, Jason is talking to the boy in front of him, the one with tight braids. Nico supposes he has no choice but to start a conversation with the boy opposite him.

The boy blinks when Nico says, “Sorry about my father. He doesn’t know how to talk to crowds.” The boy has pretty eyes. Nico resists the urge to vomit when the thought passes through his mind. Pretty eyes? Yeah, sure. They’re normal blue. Maybe a little bit brighter and lighter than most blue eyes, but-

Okay, he’s getting ahead of himself.

“It’s okay,” the boy grins. “You should hear my father. He rambles on and on. It’s quite funny. And pretty embarrassing,” he adds, grimacing. “Anyway, I’m Will.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Nico.” Will is annoying, Nico decides.

“Your castle is really nice. Different than ours. Way different. He’ll never admit it, but my dad hates the gothic stuff. Ours has lots of windows, and the walls are bright. Our colors are blue and white. Like, sky blue. It’s pretty.” Will tilts his head. “Am I rambling? Sorry. I… ramble when I get nervous. I’m kind of nervous.”

Why would he be nervous? It’s a castle. Nico doesn’t understand, but then again, he never really does. On the outside, Nico shrugs. “It’s… fine. No big deal. Everyone gets nervous, right?”

Will nods. There’s an awkward lull in the conversation before he starts it up again. “So how old are you?”

“Sixteen,” Nico clears his throat, sitting back in his chair. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m seventeen. You seem older than sixteen. Well, besides your height. You’re pretty short.” Will beams. “That’s okay, though. It’s cute.” After saying that, his eyes widen and his freckle-abundant face turns a deep shade of red. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

Nico, needless is to say, gets a bit flustered. His own face flushes a bit, and he runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up on his head. “It’s fine,” Nico swallows and shoves a whole roll in his mouth. Jason, who just entered the conversation, raises an eyebrow.

“Nico, why did you just put a whole roll in your mouth?”

“Ahm threthed aht-” Nico attempts with his mouth full, and Jason seems to get it. They’ve been friends for too long, Nico decides.

“You’re stressed out? Why?”

Will reddens again, and his freckles seem to blend in with the rouge. “I - uh, I’m-” he shakes his head. “Nevermind. Kayla, how you doing, sis?” He turns to his sister and starts muttering quickly to her.

Nico ducks his head, murmuring something about feeling sick, and scoots his chair back. The screech alerts everyone in the hall to look at him. Under their gaze, he glares with an icy expression, then announces, “I don’t feel well. I will be in my quarters.”

Jason and Hazel go to stand with him, but Nico stops them with a shake of his head. “Stay. You seem to be getting along quite well, and I don’t want to ruin your evening with my feeling ill.” He walks out of the room quickly, making sure he doesn’t seem hurried. Appearances are everything.

But he can feel the gaze of the Crown Prince as he makes his way across the room.