Sad little one-shot I thought of while being bombarded by Chrisse feels. Warning: character death.
Clarisse had taken on a drakon with only a spear for protection and had won. Now, clad in full armor with an army at her back, no one thought that she could be taken down, especially by a monster as common as a hellhound. And yet, there she lay, with a wound deep in her side and blood rapidly pooling on the grass of Half-Blood hill.
The battle raged on around her, spears and arrows flying while swords clashed with the hammers of giants and the teeth of hellhounds. Only one person had noticed the fall of the warrior, and he sprinted to her side as fast as he could while also dodging various weapons from both sides.
"Clarisse? Can you hear me? Oh gods, please be okay."
Clarisse looked up at Chris, only making out a blurry outline of his face. She tried to reach her spear, tried to assure his that yes, she was fine and she had to keep fighting. But she couldn't gather the strength to move her arm. All she could do was keep looking at the blurry figure of her fiancé and try not to slip out of this world. But it was no use.
She realized her face was wet, and though that Chris must have started crying. Or maybe it was her, but that seemed unlikely since she didn't even have enough control of her body to whisper her last words. Chris placed his hand over her stomach, and all she could do as she drifted away was think about what she wanted to tell him.
It would have been a boy.