(You are a Greek demigod in Camp Half-Blood, and currently the Roman-Greek Cold War is going on.)

It was the worst time for the Greek demigods right now. They were surrounded by the Roman enemies, as well as the hordes of beasts and deadly mythical creatures waiting to attack. Despite Chiron's orders for the younger ones unable to fight to stay inside and for the ones fighting to stay back for now, a few of the young Hermes kids had begged you to go pick some strawberries for them from the fields near the forest. And you couldn’t really resist the kids’ deadly puppy eyes, so you had grudgingly grabbed your weapon and slipped off silently to the fields.

Getting in and picking the strawberries, was, as it turned out, quite easy despite the patrols of Roman demigods who seemed to be everywhere. You were feeling quite pleased at the lack of disturbances, and so your spirits were high.

However, fate decided to rear its ugly head at you soon enough, as you made your way back to camp. As soon as you stepped out of the forests’ vast expanse of bushes, something sharp poked your chest, forcing you to stop.

“What do we have here?” It was a Roman demigod, judging by the tons of armour, the tip of his spear pressed against you.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice you, Graecus?”

…And a strangely handsome one at that, too. His dark hair was messy and fell into his eyes, his narrowed eyes a bright blue that seemed to glow against the weariness of his look. The Roman wasn’t wearing a helmet, which seemed to add insult to injury that he had caught you so easily, and yet your sword was too short to reach him before his spear pierced you.

Those piercing blue eyes fell on you, taking in your appearance, his grip on his spear tightening and his fierce expression wavering. You were… pretty. Paris hadn’t expected to ever see such a demigod from the Greek side.