A/N: Hey, everyone! I'm back with yet another story, which is an AU! For those of you who are a little more familiar with me, I don't really like over-used AU concepts. And in this case, I consider this a pirate AU, which has kind of been used a lot. But, it's not really your traditional swash-buckling story. If anything, it just takes place in the Golden Age of Piracy. Of course, there will be plenty of plundering, sword/gun fights, and, as always, a little romance. So, if you came for a goofy story with Captain Percy and his band of demigod pirates, you came to the wrong place. But, for those of you who haven't clicked away yet, I hope you thoroughly enjoy the story!
Rating: T for violence, some language, and very minor adult themes.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. Each and every one of them belongs to Rick Riordan.
The Raider Headhunt
I:The Roi of Riches
In the origin years of The Golden Age of Piracy, in 1650, European settlers were once again allowed passage into the New World. Settlers surged in from Europe, intrigued by the riches and wealth that could be reaped from the foreign land. And, following the siege of Port Royal, located in Jamaica, from the Spanish, English settlers especially benefited from the New World, as well as pirates, merchants, and sailors alike. New life could be found there, but often times, it came at a severe and corrupt cost. A cost that was filled with bloodied hands and throats slit in the night. And for one family in particular, it would be too late to truly realize, as well as prevent that very violence that would come to destroy them…
White, V-shaped forms drifted freely above the sea over the sharp blue contrast of the sky. They glided through the choppy air for a few moments, before diving downwards, towards the dark water. Occasionally, after their brief scrape-in with the sea, they would appear again, a fish or two clamped under their beaks. She would smile faintly if they did end up being successful in their attempts at getting food. But she eventually faltered when she realized what she was doing.
"God..."
She muttered under her breath, sliding her elbow away from its resting spot on the windowsill. A sharp slap cut through the air, followed by a stinging pain in her left hand.
"Lady Chase!" Her senior nurse cried out beside her, a shocked expression on her face.
She clutched the hand to her chest from the surprise, "Why on earth would you do that?"
"You know your father would do much worse to you if he heard you talking like that, my Lady," She said, her aged face softening slightly.
"You're right..."
The nurse resumed brushing through her hair a minute longer, before leaning back to examine it. She shooed the other women who stood about fixing and adjusting things here and there on the girl. They backed away, almost gracefully, their heads bowed until their chins touched their chests.
"Beautiful," She said, "But is that truly much of a surprise when we're talking about you, my dear Annabeth?"
"I can hardly breathe," She protested to the nurse, "This dress will squeeze the life out of me!"
She regarded Annabeth with a stern expression, "Now, my Lady, we must not complain about such petty things. Come, your mother and father are expecting you."
"At such an early hour?" Annabeth inquired,
"Of course,"
The nurse held out a hand, steadying Annabeth as she rose from her chair. Her chambermaids came forward once more in order to give her dress one final glance-over, pecking away like chickens at her feet for any remnants of dirt or any stray pieces of hair of sorts.
"You didn't forget the date already?"
Annabeth glanced up at her with a dumbfounded glance. They hurried out of her room, down the hall leading to the stairwell.
"It's the fourteenth of June, my Lady."
She blinked a few times at this announcement, "Oh...Of course."
Annabeth's eyes drifted up, as if they were trying to roll back in order to search into her mind. Had it already been another six months added to the timeline? That would make it the eighth six-month interval, four years spent there, overseas, and away from England. Her eyes slowly revolved from the ceiling to the left, where windows lined the walls when there weren't paintings making up for the spare space. She stared out across the ocean, longingly, as if she could somehow, someway, spot the shoreline of her old home on the horizon.
The view that the windows provided cut off suddenly, as they entered the stairwell leading downstairs. Annabeth nearly slipped down the steps, but her nurse intervened by grabbing her wrist.
"Lady Chase!"
"Yes, sorry," Annabeth muttered apologetically.
"One more step and you would've had a nasty fall."
She placed her foot on the next stair down, only this time with a little more caution. Her chambermaids and nurse assisted in lifting the many layers of fabric that made of Annabeth's dress as a precaution. Annabeth continued down the stone steps leading down a spiral shape.
"I always dread this date, and I always will," Her nurse scoffed.
"That makes two of us, nurse."
The nurse caressed Annabeth's shoulder in reassurance.
"As long as I'm by your side, my dear, no harm will come to you from those-those...Animals that call themselves men. Not before they get through me."
Annabeth stuttered over her words for a moment, "Nurse..."
"Oh, never mind me. The wrong thoughts simply came out into words. I'll hold my tongue in the future, my Lady, I'm sorry."
She shook her head, "There's no need to apologize."
Finally, they reached the bottom of the staircase. The chambermaids continued to hike up the backside of the dress fabric. The group of women continued onwards, towards the dining room where Annabeth's mother and father were waiting for her. At the end of the hall, they approached the doors leading to the aforementioned room. A pair of her father's men stood guard. Her nurse gave her one final glance-over,
"Remember," She said, "Manners."
Annabeth laughed faintly, "Nurse, please."
"Go on, then. And I'll see you in a little while."
The two men heaved the massive doors open for Annabeth, and she nodded to them once in gratitude. Long but empty wooden tables were laid out through the dining room, and one at the far end of the massive room faced her. Her parents sat at it, also facing her. She could see her father rise from the table, arms outstretched,
"Annabeth, my dear!" He called, his voice cheery, "Come, sit, and join your mother and I for breakfast!"
Annabeth rounded the edge of the table, taking a seat beside her mother,
"Good morning mother, father."
Automatically, she felt uncomfortable with her seating orientation. Isolated, alone, despite the fact that she did have company. Her father had almost always required them to sit side-by-side, rather than across from each other. He was always prepared for receiving visitors, even when it came to table arrangements.
"It is a good morning, indeed," Her father sighed almost dreamily, waving a carafe-wielding servant over to Annabeth's direction. Within a few brief moments, her glass was filled with a deep, dark liquid, and she brought the cup up to her nose slowly. Annabeth breathed in slowly, taking in the strong aroma. Coffee, one of the few things she enjoyed that, to her advantage, was plentiful in the New World. A light coat of steam began to condensate on her nose, and she eventually was jarred from her infatuation with the smell by her mother, who nudged her arm,
"Careful," She warned, "Or you'll lose the tip of your nose."
Annabeth grinned, setting the hot beverage back onto the table top. Her mother returned the kindly smile, the corners of her mouth and eyes crinkling,
"You look lovely today, Annabeth."
"I appreciate your compliment," She answered, "But I think you should thank the nurse and the chambermaids for my appearance. I had nothing to do with it."
Her mother nodded slowly, "I'll keep that in mind, then."
Two seats over, Annabeth's father sputtered on his coffee,
"Keep that in mind?" He echoed, "It's their job to make her look presentable, my dear! They shouldn't be thanked for something that they're required to do, given that they want to be paid!"
Her father laughed wetly, as he still had liquid caught in his throat. It turned into a violent coughing fit again, as he pounded on his chest with a hand curled into a fist.
"Of course, Frederick," Annabeth's mother countered, "But this isn't about their requirements. It's about them being aware of our gratitude."
He shook his head in disagreement as he continued to hack, "They must be aware of the boundaries. Giving thanks will cause them to slack, become too relaxed in their work. And before long, our precious daughter wouldn't be so beautiful!"
Annabeth's hand clenched in her lap, and her eyes narrowed in size at her father's comment. Athena clamped her hand to her mouth.
"Please!" Frederick quickly continued, waving a hand, "Do not take that as a personal attack, my dear. I would never let them grow so out of hand. They would be fired before I would let that happen. Do you not think that I know where I'm coming from with these comments, what with my line of work?"
"It's not that, my dear. You of all people know how to manage others, and that's especially due to your line of work."
Her father nodded slowly, relief on his face,
"Good, good."
He coughed one final time, before rising from the table.
"Well, I suppose I should be off for now, in order to make final arrangements."
Her mother frowned, laughing slightly, "Frederick, you've been making final arrangements for the past week now. What more is there to be done?"
"Athena," Her father kissed her mother's hand lightly, "My business with Captain Roi is one of the most vital partnerships I have. And my appearance is the most important thing if I am to continue business with him. I promise you, once our usual arrangements have been agreed upon, everything will go back to normal, and you'll have me all to yourself for the next six months."
Frederick kissed her hand one final time, before releasing it and rounding the table. He began to jog out of the dining hall,
"I promise you!" He repeated over his shoulder.
When he had left the room, Athena sighed with contentment, leaning back in her seat.
"He hasn't changed a bit since we first met, you know."
"Really?" Annabeth asked, astounded, "Because if I fully knew that he was more invested in his business than his own wife and daughter, I would have held off on marrying him."
"Annabeth!"
She felt a slight twinge of guilt at the sight of her mother's devastated expression and tone of voice, but not much more than that. But Annabeth broke away from her mother's wide-eyed expression.
"How could you ever say something so poorly of your father? After all that he's sacrificed, after all that he's done for us-"
"After all that he's done for us!" Annabeth repeated angrily.
"Yes!" Athena said.
She rose from her seat, glaring down at her mother, "I would never call you a naive person, mother, except under the circumstances of speaking about him."
Her mother continued to look at Annabeth, wide-eyed and speechless. Annabeth had more than a few negative things she could say about her father, but she held back for the sake of her mother, who appeared to be on the verge of tears as it was. They locked eyes with one another, silent. Eventually, Athena spoke up,
"Well," She swallowed, "I'm sorry you feel that way about him. But you would do particularly well to remember, Annabeth, that you are much more fortunate than many. You may dislike your father, but you must always, always, be grateful for what he has done for us. Let me remind you of that much."
Annabeth turned away from her mother, walking away as she left her mother alone at the breakfast table.
Annabeth stormed out of her father's complex, marching down the cobblestone path that led away from it. She broke away from the main road, going down a much more weathered direction that went downhill, towards the shore. Kicking up sand as she went, she forced herself to a stop just where the tide washed up. The aquamarine water just barely grazed her covered toes, giving off a slightly cooling sensation. Already sweat began to accumulate on her forehead, and she stared up at the cruel sun,
"Is this your way of punishing me?" Annabeth muttered.
She sighed, as her gaze was drawn again to the water. It was tempting, tempting to simply jump in, dress and all, as if it would provide some solace from her argument with her mother, along with her other problems. Annabeth knew that her mother was right, that she should be grateful. But she couldn't help but let the bitter hatred she had against her father overwhelm a much more difficult step: Forgiving him.
How could she? After sailing from London to the unknown lands contained in Jamaica, and even beforehand, her father had been all but consumed entirely in his growing business. It was all that ever seemed to cross his mind. Some less merciful than Annabeth in her remarks against her father might have even perceived him as corrupt, greedy. Maybe almost as much as the very pirates and merchants that he dealt with on a daily basis.
Acknowledging the fact that Frederick was her father, she bit her tongue whenever that comment came to mind. But nevertheless, she couldn't help but ponder it. As she stood frozen, and almost in a trance, his very voice took her from it.
"Annabeth!" He called.
She glanced to the right, in the direction her father's voice had come from. He was jogging towards her, and it was almost as if he hadn't sped up or slowed down his pace since the dining room.
"Annabeth, my dear," He echoed, his voice filled with a fair amount of anxiety, "What are you doing here? It's much too hot out here for you to be taking strolls."
Annabeth looked over her father's shoulder. The house stood on a hill with massive stones and boulders. A little to the right, a large dock had been built into the shore, as well as the hill, and led up to the side entrance leading inside. In the distance, she could see men pacing about on the docks, presumably waiting for their employer's business partner.
"Please, father, if you wanted me out of the way for when the captain arrived, you could have simply asked," She countered, stepping towards him, "After all, we wouldn't want your appearance to be tarnished, would we?"
Annabeth just barely stood a few inches taller than her father, but he still had a demeanor threatening enough to make her sink to her knees out of fear. And that was one of the few times she had seen it directed towards her. His already reddened face darkened, standing out considerably in contrast to his sandy blonde hair, as he glared at her. And before she could react, her father brought a swift hand up to her face. The force of the strike caused her to stumble back into the sand. He walked a few paces towards her, his shadow looming over her,
"If you think," He growled, jabbing a finger in her direction, "That for one second, I will tolerate that from you today in front of Captain Roi, or any other day following this one for that matter, then that will be the worst mistake you will ever make in your entire life. Do you hear me?"
Frederick stepped towards her again, his finger still pointed down at her.
"Do you hear me?" He bellowed, a vein protruding from his neck.
She nodded, backing away from him in the sand with her hands raised defensively, "Yes! I do..."
His hand dropped to his side, and while he was still facing her, he began to walk away slowly.
"Good...Good," A false, thin-lipped smile spread across his face, "Just remember to keep that in mind, my dear."
Her father walked away, marching back towards the docks, gusts of sand flying out from underneath his boots. Annabeth stared at his figure in shock, as she continued to lay in the sand. She quickly stood, rushing towards the house under her father's wishes, and out of fear of the consequences that would inevitably follow if she stayed a moment longer. As she continued up the path, her eyes stung, but she hastily blinked the potential tears welling up. She swore to herself that she wouldn't give into his threatening tactics, just as she did with his growing debt of promises that he had yet to make up for.
Annabeth's hands curled into fists out of the fierce defiance she wished had made an appearance earlier. But the shock and awe factor of her father's outburst was overwhelming, and more saddening than anything. A small part of her wished she could forgive him for the corruption from the growing wealth to be found in the New World. But that urge went away just as quickly as it had been born into her mind when she reminded herself that it had brought it upon himself. And even if she did forgive him, what would that truly accomplish?
No, she was positive that her father was long past the point of being saved from his own ambitions of wealth and status, despite how much she dreaded the thought. She was sure that he had reached the peak of true greed. But, she was reminded that people often had the ways and means to surprise her. And in this case, she was afraid of what might happen if he did somehow out-do his own consuming sin. As she approached the front doors, she was quickly granted entry by the two guards posted by the door.
She walked at a fast gait, more anger-fueled and quickened than at the pace she had walked earlier following the argument between her and her mother. Annabeth practically charged up the stairs, nearly tripping over her dress more than a few times. As she reached the top step, she grabbed a fistful of the cloth in her hands, hiking it up to assist in her walking. Her loud, echoing footsteps finally attracted the attention of her nurse, who appeared as she walked out of her quarters.
"Annabeth?" She called, but she walked past her nurse, ignoring her.
"Annabeth!" The nurse repeated, "Come back here! I am talking to you!"
She stopped in her tracks, knowing her nurse would simply follow her until she stopped evading her. Annabeth turned, her nurse examining her.
"What happened to you?" She demanded, ghosting her fingers on the mark which had presumably appeared from her father striking her, "And what happened to your dress?"
Her nurse quickly began to swipe away the patches of sand that still remained in the fabric of her clothing. Annabeth held the still-stinging mark in her hand,
"It was my father."
"Your father?" She echoed, faltering in her cleaning, "Oh, dear..."
The nurse rose from her crouched position, "Come, I'll bring you to your room. We mustn't allow you to go to tonight's dinner with that ghastly mark on your face."
"Be still," Her nurse scolded, dabbing a cold cloth on the strike point, "I'm sure it doesn't hurt as much as you're acting it is."
Annabeth sighed, "It doesn't. I'm sorry."
"Say no more, say no more."
When she was done applying the cloth, she dipped it back in the dish she had soaked it in.
"Now," Her nurse continued, rummaging through Annabeth's collection of make-up, "Tell me why your father came to hit you."
Annabeth looked out the window, where the gulls were still circling above the water for their next meal.
"I said something I shouldn't have."
She sighed at her ward, "Oh, Annabeth...You must learn to hold your tongue. What are you to do when you're married? If you keep up with the habit, you'll be divorced before the wedding reception is even over!"
The nurse dabbed a small amount of powder on Annabeth's cheek, where her father had slapped her.
"I'll never marry. Not here, anyway," She glared out the window, "If he had his way, he would marry me off to one of those grisly pirates if it meant making a profit."
While she didn't laugh at her joke, her nurse stifled a smirk while shaking her head slowly.
"You've got spark, my dear, and I fear that it will be your downfall one day. But perhaps, you'll find a suitable husband one day who rivals you in your fiery character who can perhaps tame you in your ways."
Annabeth chuckled, "I would certainly like to see someone try."
Her nurse dabbed a few more splotches of powder, leaning back to examine her work as she did. Finally, she saw it adequately applied,
"There," She piped, "You would never even guess that anything was there."
Her nurse scavenged up the makeup, returning it to its container.
"Now," She said, "Your father's business partner won't be arriving until this evening, but I shall return in a few hour's time to get you in your evening gown."
Annabeth nodded, "Very well, nurse."
The nurse stood, "And I'm certain you'll stay out of trouble, no?"
"Of course."
"Good," She replied, opening the door leading out, "I shall see you then, my dear."
Shutting the door behind her, the nurse vanished from sight. Annabeth sighed, looking around her room from the table closest to the window. She looked out the windows again, for any sign of a ship arriving from the sea. But no such ship was visible in their cove, the one that they used as a makeshift port. She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief, despite the fact that she was aware that they wouldn't be arriving anytime soon.
Annabeth looked away from the window, glancing around at her belongings that were placed throughout the room. To her left, beside the table and chair placed by the window, was her bed, a few nightstands. Directly across from her, built into the wall, was the door leading out. On the right side of the door, there was a sooty fireplace, where the charred pieces of wood from the evening before still laid. And, finally, a massive rug was put out in the middle of the room.
She looked at the decorations with contempt. Like everything in her life, it was controlled by her father. Even something as simple as a candlestick's orientation seemingly had to be approved by him. It didn't matter to him that it was her room. No, the only thing that mattered was that it was his say.
Annabeth huffed, growing more and more flustered the longer she sat staring the the objects. Finally, she stood, taking a few more paces until she had reached the foot of her bed before flopping onto it. She turned, laying on her backside. Her eyes quickly grew heavy, and she was reminded how exhausted she felt. With the persistence of the heat, and the two arguments between her mother and father separately, she felt that she was leaden more than she was flesh and bones.
She yawned lightly, allowing her eyes to close. And before long, she drifted off to sleep, allowing her troubles to slip away from her mind, if only for a little while.
It seemed like she had just closed her eyes when she felt a jolt on her shoulder. Her eyes snapped open wildly, blinking rapidly,
"Annabeth!" Her nurse's voice hissed, "Wake up!"
She rubbed her eyes, sitting up as she did, "Nurse..."
It was pitch black in her room for a moment. But that was quickly relieved by her caretaker as she lit a candle sitting on Annabeth's nightstand.
"Get up, girl!" She ordered, "The captain is sailing into the cove now!"
"Now?" Annabeth repeated, glancing out the window.
It might as well have been pitch black, because the sky was closer to that shade than blue. But in the little visibility that was left in the fading light of day, she could see a large, looming object coming into her father's cove. Inevitably, it was the captain's ship, with it's lights flickering on-deck and below. Her nurse pried her from the windowsill,
"Come now," She said, raising the dress, "We need to get this on you, and quickly."
Annabeth stripped down from her old dress, with the assistance from her nurse, until she was down to her undergarments. And again, with help, she was dressed up again, as she grunted with each swift adjustment from her nurse, whether it be on a corset or something else as uncomfortable.
"Good enough. Now, we must hurry."
Her nurse led her out the door, down the hallway, and down the stairs, just as she had in the morning, only twice the speed. Halfway down the stairs, her other chambermaids followed along, picking up pieces of cloth here and there to help move along the almost dangerous task of going down the stairs. When they were assured that she fared well going down the stairs, the stepped away, leaving just the nurse by her side,
"You'll stay with me during the party. Won't you?"
Her nurse nodded, "For as long as your father allows me to stay, I won't leave your side, my dear."
Annabeth sighed out of relief, nodding,
"Thank you."
Placing a hand on Annabeth's back, the nurse, led her through the remainder of the hallway, and to the doors leading to the dining hall. They were allowed entry by the guards, who had grown more decorated, presumably out of the sake of her father's appearance and reputation. She couldn't help but roll her eyes as she walked past. As the doors opened, the sound of hundreds of voices belonging to her father's multitude of guests filled her ears in an overwhelming influx.
They were everywhere throughout the room. Eating, drinking, some had already invited themselves to dance nearby the musicians playing.
"Well," Her nurse said over the noise, "Your father has certainly outdone himself this time."
"Indeed he has," Annabeth muttered spitefully as she regarded the massive tapestries hanging on the wall. As they approached the table waiting at the top of a small set of wide stairs, her mother, who had been sitting by herself, stood in greeting.
"Annabeth!" She shouted slightly, struggling to keep a hold on her wine glass.
"Hello, mother."
Annabeth rounded the table as she took a seat on the left side of her mother. Her nurse took a few paces backwards, but still remained close to Annabeth nevertheless. She frowned slightly as she further regarded her mother, who was just sitting down.
"Mother, are you okay? You seem a little..."
"A little what, dear?" She questioned, downing the rest of her wine sloppily.
Just as Athena returned her glass to the table, the doors leading to the dining room swung open, almost dramatically, as her father appeared alongside another man. He was arm-in-arm with another woman. Annabeth leaned back, whispering to her nurse,
"How could a man like that possibly get a wife?"
Her nurse leaned towards her ear, "I know for a fact that it's impossible for a man like that to get a wife. Well, one that's not a complete and utter harlot, anyway."
Annabeth smirked as she leaned back to her seated position. People standing in the main aisle stepped aside as they walked on, followed by the captain's men, who were at least fifty or so in number. They stood before the table, and Annabeth yet again saw the same, gruesome man she saw every six months: Captain Roi.
"Captain," Her father said, regarding Athena, "You know my wife."
"Why, of course," He answered in a smooth voice, taking her mother's hand as he kissed it lightly. Annabeth bit her lip slightly as her mother let out a drunken giggle as he broke away from the kiss.
"Oh, captain," She slurred, "You're making me blush."
The captain's woman concealed a smile from him, as he roared with laughter,
"It seems as though she's already had enough for the night, Frederick!"
Her father laughed with an uncomfortable tone, "Yes, it seems as though she has."
As Captain Roi regarded the lady beside him, as they laughed together, Annabeth realized her father was glaring at her mother, just barely managing his temper that he had unleashed earlier.
"And," Her father piped, getting the attention of the captain again, "You know my daughter, Annabeth."
Like he had done with her mother, he took her hand in his own rough, questionably clean one.
"If there's one place in the world that I enjoy, Miss Chase, it's here, in Port Royal," He said, kissing her hand, "So many treasures to behold. But none compare to that of the sheer privilege of being able to bestow my eyes upon your own beauty."
She was grateful that her face, unlike her mother's, didn't betray her by growing pink from the attempt of flattery. Annabeth cleared her throat,
"Thank you, Captain Roi. It's always a pleasure to have you visit us."
"Please," He replied, revealing a yellow grin, "The pleasure is mine completely."
He turned to face his men. Roi stuffed a few fingers in his mouth before blowing, making a sharp whistle sound. He pointed to an empty table that had been set aside for them on the far side of the room. They shuffled off quickly. When all of them were seated, her father scooped up a glass and spoon from the table, before banging the latter against the cup. The hall fell silent,
"I'd like to first thank you, my guests, for coming tonight. It is a great honor to have each and every one of you here. But most of all, I would like to thank the very person for which this celebration was arranged for: Captain Roi. For years now he has provided me, as well as my wife and daughter, the income to live a good, prosperous life. And for that, I owe him my life. So, please, if all of you would join me in showing him our greatest gratitude and thanks."
People throughout the hall clapped in a round of applause for the captain. He bowed slightly, and awkwardly before them as he lowered his tattered hat in thanks. When her father thought it was an adequate amount of clapping, and raised his hands up,
"Thank you. And I hope that all of you thoroughly enjoy your evening."
Clapping arose again, but this time, for Frederick as he escorted Captain Roi and the woman standing beside him. When everyone at the head table was seated, the music picked up where it had left off, and people went back to the party. Her father was seated to her left, followed by his business partner, then the captain's woman.
"Frederick," The captain beamed, "Allow me to introduce you to my wife, Rheia."
She outstretched her hand, as her father kissed the coffee-colored flesh.
"It is an honor," Her father said, kissing her hand a second time.
Annabeth narrowed her eyes, partially suspicious of his actions. Of course, it was common courtesy to kiss a woman's hand. But one time was typically seen as more than adequate.
"I found her in a desolate slum, starved and on the edge of death," The captain began solemnly, his eyes drifting down, "It's so common a scenario, poor girls on the streets with no one to care for them. But I knew that I had to do something. So, I took her in."
Roi leaned towards Rheia, clasping his hands on her shoulders,
"And now," He said, "Look at us!"
Rheia was smiling, but in her father's direction. Annabeth frowned at this action.
Frederick chuckled over a glass of wine, "How long ago did you two marry?"
"Six months ago!"
The two of them burst into laughter, as her father struggled to keep his wine down.
"I have to say, Roi, you certainly keep yourself...Busy."
"Oh," The captain grinned, "Indeed I do."
Annabeth looked away in disgust. And as the night went on, the more and more she wanted to leave. But everytime she stood up to, her father, in the midst of his drunken celebrating, grabbed her arm, forcing her to sit,
"Sit down," He would say, "You're being rude."
She almost got away, as her father had a heated, but brief conversation with one of the guards,
"-Tried to get into the party..." He said to Frederick. At this, Captain Roi looked over, scratched a spot near his lip briefly, and looked away.
"Well, get them out of here!"
With that, the guard quickly rushed off, as her father downed another drink, simultaneously grabbing her arm as she tried to leave.
And with each glass of wine, he grew more and more slurred. The party-goers were in chaos. Drunk, dancing, or laughing maniacally, they stumbled over tables, vomiting occasionally. Captain Roi had long since stumbled away to join his men, as they were still fairly competent, despite they had all probably drunk twice the amount the other guests had. Her mother sat in her seat, hunched over as she laughed occasionally.
"So," Frederick leaned towards Rheia, "Does the captain make you happy?"
"Of course," She said, "He's a rich man, he gives me whatever I want."
"But Rheia," Her father insisted, "I'm richer than him."
"Really?" Rheia purred.
She leaned towards him, as put her hand on his thigh and rubbed it. At this point, Annabeth rose from her seat, completely and utterly disgusted. Annabeth turned, where her nurse was still standing,
"Nurse," She fumed, "Help me get my mother to bed."
Hearing Annabeth's tempered tone, she nodded, "Right away, my Lady."
They took one arm each, and with her mother's fairly light frame, they were able to lead her out of the dining hall. As Annabeth looked back, she could see her father and the captain's wife creeping off through another door. Her eyes then drifted towards the table Captain Roi had been visiting. Annabeth's heart plummeted when she saw him staring in his wife and her father's direction. Then, he looked down at his feet, gripping what appeared to be a sword strapped to his belt as he did.
As they carried Athena up the stairs, Annabeth managed to reveal what she had seen
"The captain knows about my father and Rheia," She grunted under her mother's weight.
Her nurse shook her head, "Oh, dear. This will not fare well with your father's current relations with him."
Annabeth grinned, "It serves that bastard right."
"Annabeth!" She scolded, "If I wasn't carrying your mother right now, it would be in your best interests to make that mark on your face reappear!"
"Why?" Annabeth hissed, "He deserves whatever punishment he gets from the captain."
They reached the top of the stairs, and they continued for a few more paces until they reached her parents' bedroom. Carrying her the rest of the way, they finally set her on top of the bed, still fully clothed.
"I'm going back there," Annabeth huffed.
"No!" Her nurse pleaded, grabbing her arm, "You mustn't!"
"Nurse..." She struggled, "Let me go! Let me go..."
Annabeth shrunk to her knees, burying her face in her hands.
"I hate him," She sobbed, "I hate him!"
Her nurse sat beside her, rubbing her back to comfort her.
"You're right to hate him. But you can never lash out against him, or he will throw you out onto the streets without any hesitation. You would never survive out there, my dear. So for now, you must mind your manners, and learn to obey."
Annabeth paused in her crying, "Maybe I want to get thrown out onto the streets. There's more freedom out there than in here."
The nurse gasped, "Annabeth..."
"Please," Annabeth stood, "Spare me, nurse. And help me to my room. If I can't stop my father, the least I can do is escape his presence, if only for a few hours."
"Very well."
She returned to her room, and her nurse helped her remove her dress and slip into her nightgown in silence. The nurse pulled back the covers, and fluffed the pillows,
"I shall see you in the morning..." She paused in the doorway, "Sleep well, my dear."
"Sleep well, nurse," Annabeth whispered, too quiet for her to hear, before slipping into a dreamless sleep.
A/N: That was a long chapter, I know, but for the most part, the later chapters will only be a third, or at the most, half the length this one was. But anyways, as I like to say when I first start a story, I try not to be greedy. And by greedy I mean asking for reviews, favorites and follows constantly. I'll only say that everything helps, and it makes my day to see when someone new has followed the story, reviewed, or favorited it. So, please, send me a review for this first chapter, I'm eager to know if you guys are enjoying the story.
Thank you so much!
Leaded-Pegasus