"Ah good," Luke sneered. "You know my name. I actually know who you are. Your darling Drew has told me all about how you'll get help and so on. I gagged her eventually. She doesn't have to go on and on about it. But the main reason I know you, is because of what you did to my leg. That definitely set back our attack plans. Good job." Luke was aimlessly pacing and looking smug.

"You can take your hand off that sword as well. I don't want to hurt you. I will be taking back those plans you have strapped to your leg though." Luke finally looked up and met her eyes.

Annabeth's blood ran cold.

"I know you." Annabeth gasped in a small voice.

And she did. It wasn't just a stall. She'd grown up next door to him. Been his friend. Just before she'd left to be a servant at the castle, he'd asked her to help him steal the King's crown. Annabeth had said no and walked away. Since then she'd crushed down every memory she had of him.

"So you do remember." Luke smirked. "Look at how the two of us have changed."

Annabeth knew she'd run out of time. She couldn't overpower Luke in her current state. She could barely even move her arm. But the plans. She had to get them away from Luke. Burn them or stain them or whatever was necessary.

Stain them.

Annabeth thought of the arrow in her shoulder. Blood stains still covered the dress she'd worn on the day Drew had been taken.

"I'm so sorry Luke," she sighed. "I really am. I wish I could take it back. You know how much I hate it there? I thought that if I fought with them I could sneak away at some point." Annabeth moved back to lean against the table, hoping it looked natural. Tilting her injured shoulder slightly towards the table hurt, but it was necessary. She took a deep breath.

Annabeth reached up and yanked the broken arrow shaft from her shoulder. The arrow head tore through her skin as she ripped it out, widening the hole in her shoulder significantly. Blood spurted out and Annabeth felt a flash of triumph well up through her. Although that might've just been blood loss…

"Sorry," Annabeth said with an apologetic smile, "It was kind of itchy."

Luke was staring at her, aghast.

"Move away from the table. You're getting blood on the plans—oh." He caught onto her plan too late.

"Very clever. So you're just gonna die on my plans now? That's great. Brilliant idea." Luke was grinning.

"I can get more plans." He added, smirking at her discomfort.

Annabeth's vision blurred slightly. The blood continued to spill from her shoulder, every dribble sucking more and more of Annabeth's energy. Her body was too heavy for her legs, her head too heavy to hold up and her heart too heavy with thoughts of Percy.

Things fell silent outside, an eerie silence devoid of screams settled over the tent. Then there was a triumphant cheer. Luke turned away momentarily, Annabeth used the distraction to take a step to the left and lift her arm. Blood spurted from the open wound, making the rest of the plans illegible. Smiling, Annabeth lowered her arm and slapped her hand over the wound. The world was falling down around her. The truth, of course, was that Annabeth was crashing to the ground, her mind on the one person she hoped could save her. Annabeth took the deepest breath she could muster.

"Percy!" She screeched. "PERCY, PLEASE!" Luke was by her in an instant, but it was too late. Percy burst into the tent, covered in blood that didn't appear to belong to him.

"You lose." Annabeth whispered with the last of her energy. Her eyes fluttered shut, but she was smiling.

The last time Annabeth had woken up like this, she thought that she'd experienced pain. Compared to this, that was like a hot bath and a fluffy pillow. Her shoulder was on fire.

Annabeth's eyes flew open and she recognized Percy's ceiling. It was green. But it was too pale and washed-out. Not the green she wanted. She tried not to groan as she jostled her arm with the effort of turning her head to the left.

She found the green she was looking for. Percy's deep sea green eyes watched her anxiously. They flooded with relief when he saw that she was awake.

"This is becoming a bad habit of mine. Passing out and waking up here." Annabeth joked in a croaky voice.

"You almost died!" Percy said in a choked voice.

"Another bad habit. I know what I signed up for."

"You look simply awful." Percy stated. He reached forward as if to brush her hair out of her eyes, then his gaze flicked to her wounded shoulder and back, and he rested his hand on the bedding instead.

"You sound like Drew." Annabeth snorted. "Please tell me that Drew's safe?"

Percy hesitated.

"She wasn't there." Percy admitted.

Annabeth smiled sadly.

"I thought as much. Didn't actually want to be right that time. And Luke?"

Percy's silence was her answer. Luke had evaded capture, again.

"We'll get him next time." Annabeth promised.

Percy remained silent for a while, staring at her. Those piercing green eyes filled her with an odd mixture of nervousness and comfort.

"So, how do you feel?" Percy asked, not very tactfully changing the subject.

"Like I got shot in the shoulder." Annabeth snorted, "But I'm actually pretty disappointed that I missed all the action."

"Technically it's not your shoulder, just above your armpit. You've got a matching hole on each side. Anyway, there wasn't much action. It was pretty much all over when our second group rolled in. After that it was just slaughter." Percy said, leaning back in his chair.

"It seemed short to me, but when you're bleeding out things speed up and slow down at the same time." Annabeth said. Her conversation with Luke had felt like an eternity but they couldn't have spoken for more than two minutes.

"About that… I told you not to get hurt." Percy leant back towards her. He was smiling again.

"Sincere apologies, Your Grace." Annabeth smiled back. Percy's green eyes dropped.

"Don't call me that. I want us to be equal. Call me Percy. Just Percy." He said quietly. Annabeth reached out her good arm. Even stretched out, it didn't reach the edge of the huge bed. It didn't help that she was lying in the middle. Percy slid his hand into hers. Electricity arced through her arm, warming her body. The pain of her shoulder dimmed in comparison.

"Okay then, Percy." She smiled.

"So, for those present who don't know, we have a traitor." Annabeth said loudly. Now she had everyone's attention.

"I've spoken with the King. Everyone is being screened and interviewed at random times. Until then, no one in this room is permitted leave the city walls." Annabeth gazed around the room. A few people met her stare. Others averted their eyes. Octavian glowered coldly at her from the back of the room.

Annabeth nodded and stepped down towards the huge map of the kingdom. The maps she'd strapped to her leg had proven useful. They'd marked the locations of more enemy camps and were forming a new strategy. Percy was by her side as soon as she made it to the table.

Unofficially, she was the leader of all war strategy meetings, but people had listened to her more with Percy by her side. But now, without Percy, people in the kingdom had begun to respect her. Word had got out about how she'd been prepared to die just to prevent the enemy from using their plans any more. Octavian had really loved that.

She still needed Percy's help on occasion, though. He would point to places on the diagrams for Annabeth when she was too short, or when her injured arm didn't allow her to. They were a formidable pair. People throughout the capital remarked on their undeniable friendship, Annabeth was obviously so wrong for Percy no one considered it could be more than that. Except Grover, who raised his eyebrows and winked at the two of them whenever he saw them together. Annabeth had blushed more in the past several weeks then she ever had her whole life.

A knock at the door made Annabeth look up from her book. She hadn't really been focusing on it much. She'd only just picked it back up after admiring her arrow scar in the mirror. Three weeks of healing and the best medical care the Kingdom could offer had still left an ugly mark either side of her armpit. It was raised and red and occasionally still wept blood through the stitches.

"Come in!" Annabeth called. The door clicked open and Percy walked in. Annabeth dropped Romeo and Juliet and scrambled off her bed to her feet. Percy chuckled.

"I thought you were going to start treating me like an equal?" He reminded her. Annabeth flushed and sat back down.

"I actually came here to ask you a question." Percy said, and sat down next to her.

"My father is hosting a ball—"

"In the middle of a war?" Annabeth interrupted. Percy looked her in the eyes. His green eyes seemed endless, and she found herself drawn to them.

"It gets worse. He's throwing a ball to find me a wife." Percy rushed out.

Annabeth began choking on her own spit and started violently coughing. A wife? Of course, Annabeth had known it would be inevitable but so soon? She'd just got the opportunity to be Percy's… Well, to be what to Percy's what? Mistress? Lover? Eventual wife? She didn't know; and Percy probably didn't either. Annabeth waved away Percy's offer of assistance and finished coughing.

"The whole of my personal team are meant to be there," Percy explained, "but if you don't want to come, that's absolutely fine. There are people from other kingdoms coming, and to them we're presenting you as a warrior. But you'll still have to wear a dress."

"Of course I'm coming, I'm on your team, aren't I? Who is accompanying me?" Annabeth croaked.

Percy grinned.

"This is the only good part. I've persuaded Father to let me take you. If, of course, you'll have me?"

Annabeth's stomach flipped and her heart lifted.

"I suppose I'll have to settle for you, since the rest of my suitors seemed to have disappeared." She smiled, slipping her hand into Percy's—something that had quickly become a common gesture between the two of them.

"When is it?" Annabeth asked, already wondering where she was going to get a dress with no family to arrange it, let alone pay for it.

"Tonight." Percy grinned sheepishly. Her expression must have shown her panic, because he quickly added, "Everyone else has known about it for weeks though, so we've got you a dress; and shoes and accessories, which my mother's chamber maid insisted was all very important." Percy frowned slightly.

"I didn't even know there were that many dress types…"

Percy's easy smile returned as he stood up, pulling Annabeth up next to him.

"I have to go and see my father, sorry to leave you." He said.

Annabeth put her arms around Percy's waist and looked up at him.

"See you tonight then." She grinned. Her heart fluttered but she leant up and kissed Percy gently. It reminded her of gentle kisses in the water a little under a month ago. The peaceful memory already felt like so ago.

Annabeth broke away and leant her forehead on Percy's.

"Or I could just stay here." He offered. He looked almost drunk, Annabeth noted, his eyes betraying him yet again.

Annabeth giggled and pushed Percy away.

"Go!"

Percy hesitated slightly and let out a deep breath outside Annabeth's door before knocking. A maid answered the door, and curtsied deeply. He dipped his head and the woman rose, gesturing for him to enter the room.

"Miss Annabeth will be out shortly." The maid offered as an explanation before disappearing again behind the dressing screen. Percy sat in the armchair tucked into the corner of the room. Earlier, the room had smelt of Annabeth and books. Now, the scent of perfume and new chiffon floated through the air. Percy found himself missing the old smell.

There was some rustling, then the maid came out from behind the dressing screen and smiled warmly. Percy leapt to his feet.

"She looks wonderful, Your Grace," the maid said politely.

"Don't raise his expectations!" Annabeth called from behind the screen.

"Too late!" Percy called back, "They're now sky high."

Annabeth groaned from behind the screen. There was more rustling, then she stepped out. Percy was barely able to keep his jaw from dropping. He was vaguely aware of Annabeth's maid slipping out of the door.

Layers of chiffon made Annabeth appear to be floating, all tied in at her waist with a delicate gold belt. Peeping out from under the hem of the dress were matching golden heels. Her blonde hair was kept off her neck with dozens of tiny gold pins. Light make up emphasized her stormy grey eyes. Annabeth's exposed forearms were adorned with golden bangles; the mark left from the arrow was just visible under the capped sleeves. The golden lace covering her shoulders and neck was dotted with pearls but did little to hide the cleavage visible above the white chiffon. Annabeth caught him looking.

"Don't say a single thing," she snapped. "I'm wearing a corset. I can't breathe and there's so much chest on display I want to die of shame." Percy raised his hands in mock surrender.

"My mother tells me the northerners appreciate this style, and since they're here we're all obliging to their ways." Percy said. But then he smiled softly, taking in her overall appearance. The sunlight from the open window touched her blonde curls, turning them to gold. She looked absolutely radiant.

"You look beautiful; and I got you something." Percy stepped forward and slid the bracelet from his pocket. A gold chain, an impossibly small sapphire hung from one of the links and threw blue beams around the room as it caught the sun.

"My mother told me to give it to the girl I most approved of tonight. But I knew straight away who I was giving it to—" Percy cut off, feeling his cheeks redden, and looked down. He hadn't meant to say that much.

Annabeth took a step closer to Percy and held out her wrist. He clipped it on and let her admire it for a minute.

The scar where she'd been shot caught his eye, still red and angry. The only symbol left after this transformation that told him it was still his Annabeth, still the fighter. Percy touched it gently.

"It doesn't hurt anymore. Silena wanted to cover it up, but I said no." Annabeth said quietly.

Percy drew his eyes from the scar to her face, she was openly vulnerable in front of him. She looked like a goddess, but he found himself wishing that she was in a tunic and trousers, defeating him in a swordsmanship match. It was unusual to see her dressed up, looking like part of his world rather than a bystander.
It didn't mean he liked her any less, Percy just preferred the Annabeth who'd made their own world. The one where they stole kisses in corridors when no one was looking, where she'd ride alongside him dressed in armour and where he could hold her in the middle of a stream and feel the rest of the world melt away.

Percy couldn't stop a smile.

"I'm glad you did."

A/N: Here is the dress Annabeth wears (which I have done a terrible job of describing): lindafriesen dot tumblr dot com/post/132994394244/art-nouveau-inspired-wedding-dress-made-of-3