Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson, all rights go Rick Riordan.
hey! Sorry to all those waiting for an update to my other stories. I had a blast of inspiration and decided to get it out there.
In the story, Amphirtite will be Percy's mother and Sally will be his nurse. Anuthing else uncertain I'll make sure to tell you in one of these irritating things that no one reads.
Please enjoy -Meggie
Perseus Jackson, Crown Prince of Esther, sat on his private balcony, the ugly balcony that poked unceremoniously out of the side of his lavish quarters. They were larger even then those of the king and queen of the neighbouring (albeit poorer) kingdom, bigger than one could ever truly need. Percy sighed, the wind pushing through his hair, the hair his nurse, Sally, had laboured over to stay still for so long a time. His hair, although usually uncouth, like him, desired very little to be part of any of the happenings of the ball and what it meant. Thrown with the wind Percy could hear the pleasant chatter and polite laughter from the arriving guests. Everyone important in all the land had been invited, and everyone worth an invite had accepted.
Finally, Percy stood up, brushed off the dust and grit that ha gathered on him in his brief pause and opened the heavy wooden doors he so hated, moving wearily into the warmth of inside.
Percy walked over to his mirror, his waist coat and cloak waiting patiently on a hook not far from where he stood and then his polished black boots sitting, shadowed under them. His dress sword, too light and weak to even be thought of to be use for fighting, perched on a shelf quite near that. Percy, sighing buttoned up the waistcoat slowly, hands moving with only the hesitation you could expect from one unwilling to be where he is to go. His boots were next, and then his sword. Finally his cloak, and that was fastened with a click under his throat with a heavy sigh from the wearer.
A knock on door jarred him back to reality. He jumped, almost frightened, that, with the lateness, the sending of many surly looks and the kingdom wide known displeasure about what would come to pass tonight, he had thought his father had sent for the palace guards to escort him down on sword point. He breathed with relief when he saw the familiar face of his friend, Grover, invite himself in.
"Your mother would dearly like to have been the one to find you," Grover said, not bothering with hello. "Your father, however, seemed to find it prudent to send me instead. I doubt you need even one guess to suppose the reason behind his wisdom."
"No, I certainly do not," Percy grimaced. "My father must have realised that the death of his only son would have, oddly enough, cause more harm than good."
Grover chuckled. "Your father is a clever man."
Percy'a expression turned sour. "And now we must leave."
"Yes we must."
"And all this I have no say in."
"None at all."
Percy, his handsome face weary, started towards the door his friend waited at.
"Come, my leige," Grover said, with a mocking bow. "Your new wife awaits."
Annabeth looked outside the carriage they were trundling along in and did her best not to leap out in a fit of desperation. The road was bumpy, and her mother, the wise Queen Athena, saw fit that they should be late, very late, it seems. Her mother, she knew, was better then most of girls of her age in near her position. Athena never directly enforced a corset, nor did she force her into hours and hours of classes about pleasentries and the non-existany joy of being in her betrothed's company.
Annabeth was sure she would hate Perseus Jackson.
Already she could see the pompous, arrogant idiots who had been common in her kingdom, strutting around with inflated chests and perfect hair, trying to capture the attention of the better looking ladies in waiting.
Malcolm, her older brother, caught her eye and sent her a small smile. Annabeth, using that as a sword, fought to keep the despair from her heart. She would miss her brother. Malcolm's smiled faltered and from that as did Annabeths hope. She knew he was thinking of her fiance's reputation, for the lack of a better word, that had been spread through the six kingdoms. That being, he was infamous indeed. Horse races through towns, spontaneous jousting in public places... If Annabeth did not wish for a freedom similar, she would have run away before being forced into a marriage such as this.
Finally the gates to the palace she would soon be calling home appeared around the corner. They were black and navy, the national colours of Esther. They opened and the horses, two white and two black, carried the royal family through.
Up the drive and through the darkness of the night that had well and truly settled, Annabeth battled with her nerves. Tonight was it. Tonight she would meet him. Tonight she would farewell her fleeting childhood she had relished in for seventeen years and look to the future, a future black with the responsibility of queen, sticky with the grubby hands of the children she dreaded to have and grey, almost completely grey, grey for the unknown, grey for storm she could feel brewing inside the continent, grey for the despair she could see taking over her life.
The future Queen of Esthers future was not looking bright.
Well, that was chapter one, quite short and boring but, you know, I hope you see promise and decide to keep reading it.
Any questions, you can review or PM me, or you know, as I told the readers of HTFSU, send me smoke signals.
In demigodishness and all that,
-MSxx
