Hello all! I bring to you my seventh Percy Jackson fanfiction. This one is special to me, because I've learned a lot while writing it. I decided to use 1 Corinthians 13:13 as the base for this fanfic because it seems that whatever I think about love and things like that, the Bible says it, but so much more eloquently…and lastly, thank you, Icy Roses, for being a faithful beta reader once again. I hope you feel the encompassing sea of gratitude I'm flooding toward you. :)

Here we go!

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And the Greatest of These is Love
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Summary: An exploration of three eternal things and how they relate to Percabeth, using 1 Corinthians 13:13 as a base.

"Three things will last forever--faith, hope, and love--and the greatest of these is love."

~1 Corinthians 13:13, New Living Translation (NLT)

Faith

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Pain. Excruciating pain, so harsh she can't even cry out. Crushing, making her muscles quiver at high speed. Melting, forcing her body into a ball. Breaking, cracking her limbs and her heart.

Yet she knows he will come for her.

She's heard that belief is passive, but faith is active; in her delirious state she remembers this and makes an effort to lift her head, to signal that she has not given up faith. She is a daughter of Athena, after all. Her dignity would leave her only after her life left her. Actually, she notes, a daughter of Athena usually wouldn't have faith in anyone but herself to save her. She doesn't care.

And when he crests the hill to take over the burden of the sky from the goddess, she isn't at all surprised.

Hope

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Hilarity. Wonderful hilarity, so freeing she feels as if she's floating. Overcoming, like the effects of alcohol. Satisfying; she's hasn't had a good laugh in a while, probably a result of too much Olympus and not enough Percy lately. Surging, filling her with jubilation. She knows what's coming.

He'd been so mysterious about this afternoon, and planned it far in advance. That alone had tipped her off. He'd said he'd meet her, Nico, and Violet (Nico's latest beau; it'd turned out he was quite the ladies' man) at the gazebo, but she knew he'd be there long before their meeting time.

And after she'd got out of Nico's car and Percy had jumped out from behind a tree while Nico maniacally drove away, she knew. She just knew, somehow.

She giggles.

From the corner of her eye, she catches him searching through the contents of his pocket. She turns around. He's on his knees, with a ring box in his hand.

All sound fades and she hears the blood rushing through her head; he's proposing, finally! She sees his lips move to form those words that have begun so many happy unions, but also too many miserable marriages. "Will you marry me?"

In an instant, her doubts disappear--it's like they were never even there. They are different. Yes, it'll be tough; she knows that. But she also knows that they will withstand the pressures of marriage and come out on top. They are Percy and Annabeth, after all. They've beaten the odds so many times, what's one more?

Her sense of sound returns and she exhales, flashing him a smile. She bends down and kisses him in a way that guarantees he'll never forget any of this; the sensations are too strong. Finally, she pulls away and strokes his thick hair. "Was that a good enough answer for you?"

"Mmm...mmhmm. Uh, yeah. Good." He's still lost.

"Good. You know what?"

"Hmm?" He tries to kiss her again, but she playfully pushes him away.

"You and me. We can make it. I know we can. I'll finish college, and we can move into an apartment after we're married... I love you, Percy. I really do. And I love us."

Together, they feel right; they feel whole. They have a beautiful spread laid out for them in the gazebo, undoubtedly Sally's handiwork. And they know that whatever life they make for themselves, it will be theirs. Could they ask for a brighter future?

Love

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Joy. Exhilarating joy, so intense he feels he could defeat Kronos all over again, right here and right now. Dizzying, unrivaled by any another sensation he has ever felt. Rushing, making his heart beat so fast it reminds him of a drumroll. Exhausting, such a powerful feeling that it drains his energy, but he keeps beaming anyway.

He is a father.

Olivia is so tiny; his arms are careful not to hug her too close. His limbs tremble from sleep-deprivation, and he hadn't even been the one doing the pushing. He pushes open the door to his daughter's mother's room, but she is still sleeping. He takes a seat in one of the chairs next to her bed and threads the hand not holding Olivia through his wife's hand.

His mother has told him of the dreams she had for her baby boy; now he offers up a prayer for his child. He prays for his daughter to possess her mother's wisdom and his own bravery. She will need it all, being a half-blood of both Poseidon and Athena's descent.

But most of all he prays for love. He desires his little girl to someday find the kind of love he and his wife share and to hold it close to her heart. For he knows the power of love, the depth to which it can penetrate a person, and he begs Aphrodite to please go easy on his first child.

He stops muttering and glances at his gray-eyed bride, resting in Morpheus' domain. Even though her hair is matted, her face still bears the streaks of her dried tears, and her hospital gown does no justice to what he knows is underneath, she is still the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on. He lays a gentle kiss on her cheek and straightens her hair, and then looks back at the evidence of their love. His daughter is almost as beautiful as his wife, to him, but in a different way. Her eyes are closed in a look of bliss.

Sitting with his two favorite people in the world, both sleeping, he makes no effort to evaporate the two salty tears rolling down his cheeks.