A/N So I've been entertaining this plot bunny for a while. Do not search for life-changing meaning in this fanfic. I was simply pouring myself a cup of nice, warm Alternate Universe. It was way overdue. Enjoy :)
Disclaimer: It was Rick.
CENTENNIAL
No one saw a storm coming.
The day, so far, had been beautiful. Annabeth had even been allowed to leave the palace courtyard to play on the hills outside her home. Like any child would, she ran along, embracing her freedom. She spread her arms wide and flew down the green pastures of Athens. She could smell a vast mix of scents: flowers, grass, trees, clean air. Hues of green and deep blue exploded all around her, delighting her senses with a sharp, clear afternoon. She heard birds chirping at one another in the forest, and briefly wondered what they were saying. No one, not even Grover, had learned the complicated language in which animals spoke. She turned and turned until the colors all blended into single lines, dashing around her. She dropped to the ground, laughing, to watch the Heavens spin about her head and the ground tilt as if it were trying to roll her off of it.
"Annabeth, please slow down. You might hurt yourself."
Her tutor came bounding down, carrying half a dozen scrolls under his arm and holding his travel hat with one hand. He looked amusing when panicked, which was almost always. Poor Grover, the girl thought.
"So what if I do? It's all worth it!" Perhaps she was too happy about leaving her home for a change. "I'm free!"
"Your father would probably murder me." Grover mumbled, and went on to say. "You must be back by sunset, Annabeth. Technically, you are not quite free."
She came to a halt and faced her teacher. "My father worries too much about me."
Grover knelt to her level. "He has reason and right to. Now, how about we play a game?"
The proud child turned away, wrinkling her nose. "You're not fun to play with."
"Then play by yourself." Her tutor sat back down. "I am better here, under the shade of this olive tree."
Suddenly, the blond girl devised a figure tumbling down the hill of her palace. He was waving an oval shaped object in excitement.
Annabeth smiled knowingly.
The boy panted as he joined his friend, grinning widely and blowing mops of black hair from his eyes. "Finally got off chores. Look what I brought!"
"A disk!" She seized the toy from his hands at once. "Come on, let's play!"
"Children, I don't think that's a safe—"
"Grover…" the Greek girl began to say.
"You're a bore!" Percy completed.
Both friends ran off laughing, noticeably stirred after a dull morning of learning about philosophy and politics and whatnot; while, on top of it, Percy still had to help his mother with a bit of work around the palace. So they hurried off, worked up about being allowed to play in the vast fields of Athens. Annabeth threw the disk at Percy, who missed it and tumbled right after.
"You're such a slowpoke." She complained.
"And you're a bad pitcher!" He retorted, rising to his feet and sprinting off.
She ran after him, and would've continued to do so had she not noticed a darker sight to a previously clear afternoon. She stopped in her tracks and looked around. The sun had been covered by a fat, black cloud. She frowned as thunder rumbled across the sky.
"Percy?" She called.
She realized a bit too late he was out of sight. There wasn't anything but green all around her, and Annabeth began to dizzy herself, even without the turning and breath-hitching. Maybe she really shouldn't have run senseless. She knew lack of sense was never good. Annabeth attempted to calm down. She could see the palace atop the main hill, but the olive tree and Grover were gone, which meant she was looking at her home from another side of the slope. She bit her lip. She'd simply gone around the hill, that was it. All she had to do was walk around, and if she got scared—which she'd never admit to—she could just run uphill towards the palace. Still, she couldn't leave her friend.
"Percy!" She said more urgently.
There was no answer.
She kept looking around for him, waiting. The previous sounds of the peaceful evening were gone. No birds, no flowers, no sun. It was a while before she realized she was turning her head too much, frown on. She waited, and waited…
And waited.
"Percy!" She called for the third time, a hint of panic in her voice.
There was silence.
"What?" His voice startled her. "I hope you're ready to lose."
She barely had time to hide her relief. "Maybe we should go back. It's about to rain."
"So? You're afraid of rain?"
She crossed her arms. "I'm not afraid. I would just hate to be soaked."
"Oh, come on." He whined. "It's the first time in ages we're allowed outside! You're going to let some water ruin that? And what's wrong with water, anyway? I think it's awesome."
He'd struck a nerve and he knew it. She never backed down from a challenge. So instead she chose to smirk. "I gave you a chance to surrender. But you've really been asking me to take the wind out of your sails."
"We'll see about that."
With their empty threats ready, they ran off still further away, Annabeth's worries all but forgotten in the midst of competition. He threw the disk at her again, and she caught it easily. She lost track of time. She jumped, she ran, she yelled, she even rolled around in the mud forming with the drizzle. Her laughter, though, was drowned by a dark shadow suddenly passing over them.
Years later, when they asked, she'd always say she couldn't remember when things started to go wrong, even though she knew exactly what did.
Just after it began to rain more heavily, a strike of thunder louder than the rest rang in her ears. She turned directly, following the sound right to an olive planted inside the palace, of which she could only see the top. She panicked, because lightning had landed on the tree.
And now the tree was on fire.
Annabeth watched, dumbfounded, as it threw sparks that were possibly landing much too close to the oil lamps. As she knew, oil was flammable. And she was right, for, out of nowhere, another flame burst in the courtyard, rapidly advancing toward the adjoining chambers.
No, wait. That wasn't a chamber.
"No!"
She heard Percy's voice before she made sense of what he was doing. When she did, he was halfway up the hill, running madly. Deciding he would manage to hurt himself, she sprinted after him, dropping the disk.
"Percy, wait!"
She caught him easily, but failed to hold him back. He thrashed against her.
"Stop!" she pleaded.
"Those are the stables, Annabeth! Blackjack is in there!"
She let him go, seeing the flames lick at the floor, right where Percy said. The black horse was her friend's most prized possession. He'd once said he'd do anything for his horse, claiming it was a special animal, a gift from the gods. He'd found it in the wild while learning to hunt one day. So he'd brought it home and asked Annabeth's father for permission to keep it. The king, being the good-natured person he was, seemed fascinated by the idea, and his attitude towards the whole thing had been all but whimsical. Since that day, Blackjack had been cared for, tamed, and loved by Percy. Up until that moment, Annabeth wondered just how deep those ties ran. Now she knew they were almost as strong as the ones she herself shared with Percy.
Just when she had resolved to follow and help him, strong arms wrapped around her torso. She was caught by surprise and instinctively began to struggle.
It was her father. In the middle of the rain he'd gone to look for her. Now he was soothing her as she squealed. She barely heard him saying, "We have to leave!"
Annabeth couldn't do anything more in her shock than to utter the word 'no'.
"We've emptied everyone from the palace, Annabeth! You must come with me!"
Finally, when the king had begun to drag her away from her house—now being horribly consumed by the flames—she was able to think straight. Not everyone had been evacuated…at least, not of her father's knowledge. She shrieked.
"Percy's in there!"
Frederick stopped in his tracks and looked straight at his daughter. "Is he not with you?"
"He was!" She wailed. "But he ran to the stables when he saw the fire. He went in for Blackjack!"
But it was too late to do much else than stare. The blond girl watched, terrified, as orange and black danced before her eyes, reflecting the light off her pupils. She was too shocked to cry out, or to cry altogether. Father and daughter watched in horror as a curl of ash clawed its way up to the sky and there it stayed, clouding them from the gods' view. It did feel like that. Like they'd turned a blind eye to the tragedy. She felt so alone she found it in herself to scream.
Nobody had guessed a fire.
Feel free to type up a review where you
a) express your frustration at having finished the PJO and HOO books and fangirl away. (I feel your pain).
b) tell me how disappointed you are that there wasn't any life-changing meaning in my story.
c) actually review the chapter
d) all of the above Anna:)