Annabeth stalked across the deck of the Argo II, ignoring the looks she was getting from the campers onboard. Every time the camp leaders started any sort of strategy council, every single time, the Romans found a way to disagree with her. "It's too risky." "We'll have fewer losses our way." "The legion can go in first; you Greeks are probably better as backup." And the worst part was that Percy actually agreed with them sometimes. Not all the time, but enough. Put the guy in a bedsheet and suddenly he's a master strategist.
"Hey, Annabeth, where's the fire?" Leo joked as she passed him. "Get it? 'Cause I'm—"
He swallowed his words as soon as she turned her murderous glare on him.
"So, yeah, like I was saying, we're just getting out of your way," he finished quickly. He motioned to the few campers above deck, and they all scampered to clear a path for her. It reminded her of one of the "science experiments" Luke used to show her when she was little and he'd felt bad she couldn't go to school. He'd sprinkle pepper in a bowl of water and put a drop of soap in the middle. The pepper immediately sprang to the edges of the bowl, as far away from the soap as possible. That's exactly what the campers looked like now: pepper collecting on the very edges of the Argo II. Of course, maybe the pepper part of her analogy was unnecessary. Demigods avoided soap as a general rule.
Annabeth didn't even spare them a glance as she jumped down the ladder to get to her room below decks. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recognized she was behaving a little immaturely (that small, traitorous part of her brain kept insisting she was throwing a fit, actually, but that idea was just ridiculous). It didn't stop her from slamming the door to her room as hard as she could as soon as she was inside.
"Something wrong?" asked a voice from her bed.
Annabeth couldn't help it. She shrieked.
And of course that immediately brought thundering footsteps to her door.
"I'm not here!" said the intruder hurriedly, and he was beyond lucky Annabeth was able to recognize him through her terror, because she was about to scream as loudly as possible for anyone listening, all dignity forgotten. The only thing that saved him and her pride was that he looked freakishly like Percy, if Percy were a couple years older and had recently gotten a haircut. Unless Hera had decided aging Percy a couple years and chopping off his hair was suddenly crucial to saving the world (and you could never be sure with the gods), this was the next closest thing: Percy's father.
"Annabeth? Is everything okay?" Piper called hesitantly through the door. She obviously didn't want to barge in when Annabeth was in such a bad mood, but just as obviously she couldn't ignore Annabeth shrieking. Annabeth did not shriek.
"Fine!" Annabeth shouted back, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Just startled, that's all."
"I heard a voice," Piper said carefully. "Uh, a boy's voice."
Annabeth cursed. A boy and a girl alone behind a closed door definitely violated Chiron's ship rules.
"Is Percy in there with you?" Piper continued.
Annabeth almost laughed. "Uh, sorry, Piper—"
"No, no, that's fine," Piper said, and Annabeth swore she could hear the younger girl's smirk. "Just…behave yourselves, okay? Your secret's safe with me."
Before Annabeth could correct her, Piper had walked away. Annabeth groaned slightly. She didn't see herself living this one down anytime in the next, oh, seventy years or so. Maybe it was a good thing these prophecies kept showing up to shorten her life expectancy.
"So do you and my son frequently not behave yourselves behind closed doors?" asked the young man sitting on the edge of her bed. "She seemed to think that was rather necessary to specify."
Annabeth felt her face heat up instantly, although she was pretty sure Poseidon was joking. "No, she was just being Piper. Which is why I'm afraid I'm going to have to kill her in her sleep. Painfully."
She cleared her throat in an attempt to reclaim some of her dignity, which had apparently been lost despite not screaming for everyone to hear. "I'm sorry about that, Lord Poseidon," she said formally, bowing to him for good measure.
He waved her up. "Please, no formalities. I'm not exactly here officially, so I do appreciate you not revealing my presence."
Annabeth decided not to mention the only reason she hadn't said anything was because Piper hadn't given her a chance. Or that it was only going to work until Piper ran into the actual Percy, who usually followed her a few minutes after she stormed off in a huff. That was happening a lot these days.
"And I'm sorry for startling you," Poseidon continued. "I was not expecting you to enter so…forcefully."
Annabeth bit her lip, embarrassed. "Sorry. It's been a long day."
Poseidon nodded knowingly. "The camps aren't blending as well as my sister had hoped," he observed.
"That's putting it mildly," Annabeth said. She sighed, sinking tiredly into a desk chair. "No, that's not really true. I'm not blending well. Everyone else is having problems, yeah, but I think I'm causing most of them."
He watched her with slight concern, and he looked so much like Percy that she blurted out before he could speak, "Shouldn't you be a little older?" He frowned, and she realized that was probably incredibly offensive. And considering her mother, Poseidon didn't need much of an excuse to blast her to bits. "I'm sorry, I only meant that Percy always describes you as middle-aged, and I've only ever seen you that way too, and you don't look much older than I am—"
Poseidon laughed, effectively stopping her rambling. "Forgive me. I'm afraid I haven't been allowed much experience with mortal women these past few decades. Would you prefer I appear as I do to Percy?"
She cleared her throat. "No, that's fine. I mean, you don't need to bother changing," she stammered. In truth—and she knew this was about as selfish as it got—it was kind of nice to be sitting next to someone who looked like Percy and not be waiting for the next fight to erupt. Ever since the two camps had met, it seemed like everything she or Percy did annoyed the other. He didn't like her taking Jason's side. She didn't like him defending Reyna. A teenage Poseidon was a pleasant reminder of why she'd spent the past eight months desperately searching the corners of the globe for her boyfriend.
"Good," he said. "I don't often get to appear young. When tending to the affairs of the sea, few take a boy as seriously as they do a man. My wife is also rather adamant I maintain an older form. I suspect she believes it encourages loyalty to her."
Annabeth tried not to think about that or his implied, "but she's usually wrong." This was her boyfriend's dad. She didn't need the details. "So, you're here to see me?" she asked, even though that was pretty obvious. Anything to get rid of those mental images.
"Yes," Poseidon confirmed. "Your mother wished to visit herself, but she was…detained. I volunteered to come on her behalf."
She didn't bother hiding her shock. "You're here to help my mom?"
This time he really did seem offended. "Why is that such a difficult thing to believe? I'm very helpful!"
Annabeth smothered a grin. Now he sounded like Percy too. "I'm sorry, Lord Poseidon. I meant no disrespect."
"Of course you didn't," he huffed. "You're not your mother."
"Thank the gods," Annabeth murmured. Still, despite her best efforts, he must have heard it. Poseidon grinned. She noticed painfully that it was the same lop-sided grin Percy gave her when he thought she was being funny.
"You're welcome," he told her with a wink. She rolled her eyes once she thought he couldn't see her.
"So my mom wanted to see me?" Annabeth prompted, hoping to avoid an awkward silence. Or, worse, more references to Poseidon's lack of loyalty. She'd take on the entire giant army single-handedly before she'd deal with that.
Poseidon nodded. "Yes. She asked me to—well, she didn't actually ask me to do anything, because she's as stubborn as a wild mustang with a—" he caught her expression and smiled apologetically. "Ahem. Sorry. Anyway, I'm here to deliver a warning. Hera has chosen you as one of the seven demigods, and your mother is concerned the decision might not have been completely unbiased."
"What, you mean because Hera hates me?" Annabeth asked dryly. "Uh, yeah, I kind of thought as much. I figure anything Hera does will inevitably make my life more miserable. I now avoid farmland, ranches, and petting zoos. There are only so many pairs of shoes I'm willing to donate to the cause."
Poseidon blinked then chuckled lightly. "I think I like you, daughter of Athena. My son chose well."
"Yeah, go tell your son that," she muttered. Again, she hadn't intended for Poseidon to hear it, but judging by the frown on his face, he had. Maybe she should start taking godly hearing into account before she said things she shouldn't say.
"I know he thought of you constantly. He was beside himself when he heard you were coming, you know. I had assumed the excitement would be reciprocated," Poseidon said. He sounded a little disapproving, and she wondered if he was reconsidering whether he liked her.
"I did too," she said, sighing. "I mean, I was excited. Really," she insisted when Poseidon looked (justifiably) unconvinced. "But I don't have him back. Not really."
Poseidon's expression was eerily similar to Percy's the one time she had tried to explain load bearing walls to him. She couldn't blame him for that, though. (That is, she couldn't blame Poseidon. She fully blamed Percy. Load bearing walls were, like, the easiest thing in the world. They had nothing on teenage relationships.)
Annabeth grimaced and tried to explain better. "It's just not the same. I spent six months going out of my mind with worry, and he barely remembered my name for most of it. He's had about a week of actually knowing enough to realize what we've been missing out on. I've been agonizing over it for six months. I know he appreciates how hard it was for me, but he didn't actually experience it. And even worse, now that he remembers, it's like he wants to just pick up where we left off and pretend those six months didn't happen. When did my priorities become so messed up that that bothers me more than the world potentially ending?" And okay, maybe she was a little jealous of how well he'd managed to fit in here and how much he didn't seem to need her anymore. But she definitely wouldn't be admitting that anytime soon.
She snuck a glance at Poseidon, afraid she'd gone too far. Maybe she should have made him change his appearance. It was a little too easy to pretend she was finally telling all this to Percy himself.
"I wish I could remember being young," he said wistfully. Annabeth stared at him. "Really young, I mean. It must have been a delightfully confusing few minutes."
"Forget I said anything," she said, embarrassed again. When your boyfriend's dad starts mocking you, it's time to give up.
Poseidon grimaced this time, matching her own expression. "No, no, I apologize. I was merely thinking out loud. I assume you haven't tried talking to Percy about this?"
"No. Of course not. He's the one taking all this in stride, which means I know it's entirely my problem," she confessed. Gods, how terrible did you have to be to resent your boyfriend for making friends with other people when he was thrown across the country without his memory? Of course, he didn't seem too thrilled that she'd made other friends after he'd been gone six months either. "Besides, he's got enough to worry about."
"And you think he isn't worrying about this already?" he asked pointedly. "If so, you don't know my son nearly as well as I thought you did."
Annabeth winced at the accusation. "No, I know he knows something's wrong, and it's bugging him that he doesn't know how to fix it. But it's not his problem to fix, and it won't even matter in a few days anyway."
She clamped her lips shut as she realized what she'd almost revealed, but it didn't make a difference. Poseidon knew where she was going with it. Seriously, she'd spoken to him for five minutes, and already he could read her like a book. Well, like a non-dyslexic could read a book, at least. Did gods even read books? Or were they content with reading demigods' minds?
"You're planning on leaving," he said, rudely jerking her back to reality.
He hadn't said it like a question, so she didn't feel as bad not answering him directly.
"Percy told me the prophecy," she said instead. "The part of it Ella knew, I mean. Wisdom's daughter walks alone, the Mark of Athena burns through Rome."
Poseidon sighed heavily. "And you've interpreted this to mean you must go to Rome alone."
"There's another interpretation?" asked Annabeth.
He shrugged. "The prophecies are always vague and unclear. True prophecies, at least. I hear Mars recently tried his hand at one and couldn't even make it rhyme."
"'Alone' and 'Rome' aren't exactly perfect rhymes either," Annabeth pointed out.
He rolled his eyes. "You should hear it in Latin. Or Greek. They're always terrible. I've tried to tell Apollo that, but he just informs me I 'don't appreciate art.' He's been trying to find a way to convert the Oracle to all-haiku prophecies lately, so if you think you aren't getting any information now…" Poseidon trailed off, smiling faintly as Annabeth groaned. That was all they needed. She could practically hear Rachel now: "Seven demigods / Foes bear arms to Doors of Death / I am so cool."
"Anyway," Poseidon continued, "Athena has other daughters. Or perhaps the prophecy will not come to pass for millennia. There is no way to be certain."
Annabeth snorted. "And it just happened to come up now? How often are daughters of Athena in Rome?" She looked at her hands. "It doesn't matter anyway. The prophecies always come true. If there's even a chance this is about me, I can't ignore it."
"But why go alone?" Poseidon asked, seeming genuinely curious. Maybe he couldn't read minds. "My son has proven he will follow you anywhere. He would lay down his life for yours without a second thought."
Annabeth flinched.
"Ah," said Poseidon quietly. "You fear he will come with you, and the prophecy indicates he will die doing so."
"Like you said, how can I be sure one way or the other? I won't take the risk, though," she said firmly. "He's the one who has to save the world. I'm the one who gets to help occasionally. Besides, I'm just making things harder for him here. It's better for everyone if I continue to Rome on my own."
"He would disagree," Poseidon warned her. "And you know he would, or you would have already mentioned this to him."
Annabeth didn't deny it. She looked him straight in the eye. "Do you think I'm wrong?"
He cringed slightly. Annabeth had a moment of smug satisfaction that her glare worked on at least one Olympian. "I don't know," he admitted at last. "You and your mother have an uncanny ability to make even the most ridiculous ideas seem plausible."
She grinned. "And that's why you hate us."
Poseidon shook his head, almost sadly. "I could never hate you, even if you did inherit your mother's infuriating tendency to be right about everything. You've saved my son more times than I can count. Of course," he continued ruefully, "no one has ever prayed to me for my exceptional math skills, so that may not mean much. Regardless, I owe you a debt, daughter of Athena."
"He's saved me just as often," Annabeth muttered, embarrassed yet again. "You don't owe me anything."
"I think I do," he said thoughtfully. "And never let it be said I do not repay my debts. If you are determined to continue on your own, I shall accompany you."
She knew her eyes had to be as wide as dinner plates. "That's very, um, kind of you, Lord Poseidon, but I can't ask you to do that."
"You're not asking me," he said. "I'm offering. Because I'm helpful. Be sure to mention that to your mother the next time you speak to her."
"Thanks, but I'm supposed to go alone—"
"You're supposed to walk alone," Poseidon corrected her. She felt her jaw drop. Seaweed Brain's father was correcting her? "If it will make you feel better, I'll hover a couple inches off the ground at all times."
Annabeth was shocked to discover he was teasing her, with the same sparkle in his eyes that Percy always got when he teased her. Maybe that was what did it, because the next thing she knew, she was agreeing.
"If you insist…" she trailed off hesitantly, giving him one last opportunity to back out.
"I do," Poseidon said. He almost sounded excited. "Your mother can cover for me on Olympus for a few more days. I haven't been to Rome in centuries. Not as Poseidon, at least."
Oh, her mother. Annabeth moaned. What would her mother say about this? She was already regretting it.
"You know, I think this is actually a terrible idea—"
She was cut off by footsteps outside her room again.
"Annabeth!" This time it was Percy. He sounded out of breath, which made her feel a little guilty. He must have run into Piper. "Annabeth, are you okay?"
"Fine!" she called back. "Give me a minute!"
"Annabeth, Piper said she heard voices in your room," she heard Chiron say disapprovingly. Well, so much for Piper keeping her secret. Although to be fair, the minute Piper saw Percy, she probably thought Annabeth was trapped with some sort of serial killer, given the way she'd shrieked. "Is there a boy in there with you?"
"No," Annabeth answered honestly. Now if he'd asked about an ancient Greek god…and it did not help that Poseidon was just sitting there, smirking at her.
"Well? Shall we journey to Rome?" he whispered, holding out his hand.
"Do we have to go right this moment?" she hissed at him. "You do know we've kind of been having a whole demigods-going-missing problem lately, don't you?"
Poseidon's smirk morphed into a full-blown grin. "Except this time, Lady Hera will be the confused one. She's distracted watching your mother. We won't get another chance like this to…what's the phrase you use? 'Mess with her'?"
"Annabeth, who is that?" asked Percy, sounding panicked. And maybe a little jealous? "It's not Jason, is it?" Oh, definitely jealous. Jason had even been at the council with them, so unless he had magic teleportation powers, that was impossible. Still, she had to smile as she pictured the cute worried expression on Percy's face, that one where his eyebrows scrunched together.
"No! Just give me a minute!" she said again, although she wasn't sure if she was talking to Percy or his dad.
"Annabeth, I can't allow this kind of behavior," Chiron warned her sternly. "You're supposed to be setting an example. Please open the door."
There were a few seconds of muffled conversation outside, and she heard Percy say quietly, "Look, I know you're mad at me, Annabeth, but I just want to talk, okay? I don't even care if it is Jason with you." He paused. "Okay, maybe I care a little. But I care a lot more about you, Wise Girl, so even if you tell me you and Jason have decided to run away to Olympus together, I'll deal with it. Now will you please open the door before Chiron goes into overprotective centaur mode and busts it down?"
It was so absurd that Annabeth laughed. If she'd thought Percy locked himself in a room with Reyna, she probably would have "dealt with it" by stabbing them both. He'd just made her decision for her.
"You're a better person than I am, Percy. Remember, Athena always has a plan," she said softly through the door, still chuckling.
"Annabeth?" Percy asked warily. She realized that although she'd been trying for something semi-profound, she'd probably come off as a little crazy instead. That was fair; "crazy" described their relationship better than "profound" anyway. "What are you talking about? You're scaring me a little. And I faced Kronos, like, ten times," he added nervously, trying to joke. It wasn't working, but she loved him for trying.
She didn't bother answering, too busy searching the room for her laptop bag. No way was she leaving Daedalus' laptop behind. Poseidon found it first and handed it to her, grinning that lop-sided Percy-grin again.
Annabeth heard scuffling outside the door and knew it was now or never. She abandoned any pretense of deep, serious insight in favor of making sure Percy couldn't misinterpret her (hopefully temporary) last words to him. "Take care of yourself, Seaweed Brain. And listen to Reyna; you're going to need someone to keep you alive, and she seems to know what's up."
With that, Annabeth grabbed Poseidon's hand. Her room dissolved around her just as the door crashed to the floor.
Her last coherent thought was that they probably wouldn't even be that worried about her vanishing. They'd be too busy worrying she'd completely lost her mind, because she'd just said something nice about Reyna.
A/N: Hopefully that worked out all right! This comes with an even-more-GIGANTIC-than-usual thank you to bibliophile114, because it involved beta reading, endless discussion, and every-other-sentence spaz attacks. Normally I try to limit my writing to about five spaz attacks per chapter; thanks for still talking to me after all that!
Also, one part of the endless discussion focused on whether or not to continue this (either here, or as a separate story), and if so, then what POV to use for it. So, if you have any input, I'd love to hear it! We talked about either doing a split POV between Annabeth and then Athena or Percy, or just keeping it all in Annabeth's POV, or just keeping it as a oneshot and leaving it here. I think it would essentially become an AU version of Mark of Athena if it continued, so if you've had more than enough MoA fics, keep that in mind!
Thanks, everyone, and I hope you enjoyed reading!
