AN: So I've uploaded another new story, it's a weakness of mine. Having so many stories at once but I promise to try and keep update pace as equal as possible. Anyways I hope you all enjoy this story and I could use the help about pairings. I'm not sure who I want to pair Panthea up with. suggestions are welcome and then I'll start a poll about it.




Reborn of Fire.

Chapter 1: Panthea's Salvation. Poseidon's Pain.

"How dare you! I provide for you and your little bastard!"

There was the sharp echo of flesh against flesh, and Sally Jackson tried to hold back a whimper of pain. As she turned back to her – regretfully – husband she felt anger bubble-up to the surface.

"How dare I?" she demanded. "How dare you! My daughter is no bastard you pig of a man, and provide for me? Ha! I've done everything to keep us fed, clothed, and living here!"

Gabe stared in shock, and the next thing Sally knew her face exploded again in pain as she was literally punched to the ground.

"I'll show you who is boss around here you harlot," Gabe spat, and the blows rained down on her.

She couldn't help but think of how surprising it was Gabe even knew a word like harlot. Much less the meaning. Sally felt heavy and knew Gabe meant business this time. Every inch of her hurt. She felt blood flow from cuts, mostly from her head, but she fought to stay conscience.

Gabe had left for now, but the pain remained. Trying to sit up she was all too aware when Gabe returned, and the smell of gasoline hit her.

"Too much trouble..." She heard him muttering. "Life insurance should cover my loss."

Her blue eyes widened; he was going to set the apartment on fire with her and Panthea inside!?

"No!" Sally cried.

She tried to stop him, but she was pushed aside. She fell hard and cringed when the gasoline was splashed onto her.

"Stupid woman," Gabe said, sighing as he lit a match.

He stood at the front door and chucked the match onto the gas. To make sure it burned he lit another and repeated the process. The room lit up like the fourth of July, the flames intense as they covered the room.

Sally saw Gabe running, shutting the door behind him as he abandoned her and Panthea to their fates. Sally struggled to stand, the fire not caring to give her time as it spread fast, and unfortunately she was highly flammable. She had no choice but to rush through the flames, the sleeve of her right arm lighting up as she reached the smokey nursery. There were small flames leaping up inside, trying to reach the crib where her nearly two year old daughter slept.

Gabe had opened all the doors in the apartment, but it looked like he'd splashed some gasoline in this one just to hurt her more. The rest were simply opened to help the fire spread quickly. Sally sobbed as she rushed into the slowly flaming room and to her daughter's side.

Looking down at the squirming child, having woken by the heat and smoke, she felt tears fill her eyes. She didn't even care that flames were licking at her own body despite her attempts to put out the ones she could.

"Hold on Thea," Sally whispered. "I won't let you die here."

Thea began to cry even more, not loud or bellowing like one might expect, but too quiet to be normal sobs. Sally saw the flames coming closer and knew she didn't have long. Not caring about the flames that ate at her as she leaned against the crib, Sally closed her eyes and prayed to Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home.

If anyone could save her daughter it was her old lover's sister.

'Please, goddess Hestia, save my daughter. My Panthea. Save your niece. Take care of her as I can not.'

As life faded to black for Sally she saw a shape flare from the flames, and then a little girl who swiftly became a woman of eighteen or nineteen formed. She smiled, and slumped to the ground beside the crib as she died in peace.




Hestia was the most forgotten of the Olympians. Few recalled the time when she'd sat upon a throne of power like her five younger siblings. None truly remembered how she had sadly, yet humbly, rose and stepped down, head held high, and gave her throne to the young Dionysus to keep the peace.

No one would write poems for her.

So she was shocked greatly when she felt and heard the pain filled cry for help. A prayer towards her of all gods. It was enough reason for her to look at the mortal through her hearth, but not the only reason.

'Please, goddess Hestia, save my daughter. My Panthea. Save your niece. Take care of her where I can not.' The woman, badly beaten, half dead and on fire had thought.

One of her brothers had broken the oath it seemed, but she didn't care for oaths like the one her brothers had made. She quickly traveled to the home of the woman, into the nursery just as the fire engulfed the crib, and the woman left for the underworld.

She prayed this woman found Elysium as she rushed to the crib and looked down. The babe was crying loudly now, and though it seemed the fire was slow to burn her it had begun to kill the girl. Pulling a dagger from no where Hestia chanted in ancient Greek, slit her thumb, and drew a symbol for daughter on the near dead baby's forehead.

"Be reborn from the flames of the hearth child, my first and only daughter," Hestia finished, picking the girl up.

The baby began to heal as the symbol in golden ichor glowed, and sank into her body. The babies features changed subtly. Her once near black hair had lightened to a pretty auburn-brown color, though it could have been more red then brown. The girl didn't have much hair, and what she did have was fine and thin on her head.

Though the burns she had suffered before had healed, her hair would have to regrow to it thicker length over the coming years.

The hearths flames danced around them. Around, on the baby – Panthea, she recalled – and in the baby's sea green eyes, but she did not burn. Hestia smiled, and ran a finger over the baby's cheek. She was probably around one, nearly two years old.

If Hestia had a guess she'd say the girl was a daughter of Poseidon. Surprising, seeing as Poseidon had never sired female demigods before.

"Lets get you somewhere safe," Hestia whispered, and they disappeared in flames.

She had to make plans, figure out a way to raise Panthea without breaking the ancient laws.




Everyone could see Poseidon was depressed during the Winter Solstice. He barely said a word, and when he did it was nearly hollow. Even Athena began to worry for her rival.

"I believed that is the last of today's topics," Zeus said, but to his surprise Poseidon spoke.

"Not necessarily, Brother," Poseidon said. "I have something to say."

They all waited for him to continue, and Hestia looked up from her hearth.

"About two years ago I met a mortal woman who could see through the mist," he began, and Zeus and Hades' faces darkened quickly. "We became involved and I sire a child."

"You broke the oath!" Hades and Zeus bellowed.

"Please," Athena began, frowning. "Be calm, yelling will solve nothing."

Poseidon was glaring at his brothers.

"I did, but don't think I don't know of your secrets brothers."

Both brothers paled, but no one else knew what the sea Lord meant.

"Fine, but why chance telling us this?" Hades asked, plotting ways to make his nephews like difficult.

"Sally had a daughter about two years ago, about four months ago there was a fire started by her new husband. I found out recently. Sally died. My daughter..." Poseidon's voice cracked. "Her body wasn't found, but they think she died as well, cremated by the fire."

The council gaped at him in shock, some in sadness for the teary eyed sea lord. Many of the female goddesses were openly crying. Hestia watched on in sadness and knowing. She had thought Panthea was Poseidon's daughter. The more likely had been Hades or Zeus, but Panthea's eyes before the adoption had been a solid bright sea green.

Now they were sea green with the flames of the hearth highlighting them. Thea – even Pan or Panny as were her other nicknames – seemed to be able to change the intensity with her emotions. She was so vibrant and changing, like the sea.

Hestia barely noticed when the council ended, and her family all left. She moved her flames around in the hearth, and she felt the feeling of guilt swell up inside her. She had the chance to tell Poseidon she'd saved his daughter – such a strange thing. Such a rarity for her brother who had never had a demigod daughter.

If they knew Panthea was alive, Zeus and Hades may have her new daughter killed to prevent the great prophecy. She would most likely not be able to raise Panthea, even if the way she was going about it wasn't technically against the laws. So as much as she wanted to confide in Poseidon it was safer this way.

Until Thea was older, until she was trained and ready to face Camp Half-Blood, it was better no one know. As much godly blood as Thea now had she was still a demigod, she still possessed the blood of Sally Jackson, her birth mother. Hestia was no prophet, oracle or seer. She could not see the future in any way, shape or form, but she had a feeling Panthea would save them all.

She'd decide their fate in the end, and Hestia had faith in her daughter. One day she'd get to meet her father, and one day Poseidon's pain over Thea's supposed death would end. She just hoped her brother could forgive her when the truth came out.