A/N: I've chosen the ending that, in my heart, will be the end. I am going to post the other one if enough people ask, so it's whichever one you choose to remember. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I aim to be done by chapter 15, with a possible epilogue.
The first few days without Annabeth sent Percy into a worried frenzy. Without her as a welcome distraction, his mind focused on Clara. His only sibling, who—despite her flaws—was one of the few people he was certain he loved. Having to tell the army about Annabeth's disappearance had almost broken Percy in two. He still remembered the moment with clarity.
"It is with great regret that I must inform you, Soldier Annabeth Chase has been captured." The King's voice carried across the courtyard filled with soldiers.
"We have to accept she may have been instantly killed," Percy's father paused, and Percy's heart twisted.He bit his lip until he tasted the warm, salty tang of blood.
"It would perhaps be better should she be dead, given they may force her to act against her will. Annabeth Chase willnot be treated as a traitor, but all her actions must remain questionable until we are sure she has escaped enemy capture." His father finally finished speaking.
What happened next was unprecedented. Percy had never seen it happen so spontaneously. Every man dropped to one knee, his head lowered, left hand over his heart, and three fingers of the right hand touching the ground. The symbol of a heroic soldier's absence, usually given to a knighted man at his death.
Percy excused himself, and—once safely locked in his room—fell backwards onto his bed and began to cry. First Clara, now Annabeth. Was Fate destined to take everyone he loved?
Percy fell asleep that night, wishing he had an answer.
The speech and following actions near killed his willpower. The temptation to get on the nearest horse and search the earth until Annabeth was near overpowering.
Now—four weeks after she'd left—he was wondering if she was even still alive. Percy hadn't seen Annabeth in any of the battles, and no one had seen Clara since her kidnapping four months ago. It seemed like a stupid game of cat and mouse to him. What worried him, was: who was the cat… and who was the mouse?
Percy huffed dejectedly, as yet another soldier fell to the ground, and failed to prove himself as good as Annabeth.
Percy's father had insisted he find a new fighting partner in her place. But in his eyes, no one would ever live up to that role. Annabeth was one out of millions. But—to Percy—she was one in a million.
Percy leant back in his chair, and glanced at the next name on the list of volunteers. Instantly, his spine straightened when he saw the name.
"Jonathon Perry!" He called, the name echoing around the room.
Jonathon stepped into the duelling circle, a silver long sword in his left hand. He didn't dip his head, or kneel. Percy's brow creased.
"Why didn't you bow?" He asked, it sounded superior, but he was just curious.
"If I were to be your fighting partner, the respect has to be mutual. I don't see you kneeling when I enter a room." Jonathon said woodenly, although his eyes showed passion.
There was a collective intake of breath around the room, as everyone waited for the Prince's response.
A smile played across Percy's lips.
"Fight then." Percy said, gesturing to the trainer.
Jonathon raised his sword, mirroring the trainer's movement. There was a slight pause, before the trainer moved forward with a simple jab. Jonathon knocked away the blow, then launched a series of fast attacks. The trainer was blocking hopelessly, given no option to anything but block. Eventually, Jonathon disarmed the trainer, and his sword clattered to the ground.
Percy clapped his hands together and got to his feet.
"Jonathon Perry, newest addition to the elite legion, and my battle partner." Percy announced to the silent hall, then dropped to one knee and dipped his head. When he rose, Percy looked Jonathon dead in the eye.
"Respect will always be mutual." And he meant it.
"I love you too." Annabeth had said sincerely, but she'd barely held Percy's gaze for a second before she turned away and kicked her horse forward.
Once she could no longer see Percy, she'd removed her helmet and returned to the clearing where they'd finished their fight. This was most likely to be where Luke would check for survivors first.
Annabeth thought she'd have to force tears out, having only ever cried twice since her mother's death. But she was surprised how easily the tears came out as she slipped to the hard earth. Her horse's reins clutched tightly in her hand, Annabeth had sobbed loudly.
He loved her.
Everyone who'd loved her had either been killed or left her. The worst part though? She loved him too, and neither of them could act on it properly. Stolen kisses would never be enough for Annabeth, she knew that. Unless she spent her life fully with Percy, she wouldn't be fully happy.
This was her state when Luke entered the clearing.
"Well, well. Look what we have here." Luke said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice
"I didn't believe my scout at first, they left behind their little huntress. 'No way', I told him. But here you are." Luke continued.
Annabeth sniffed loudly, and raised her head to look at him. She got to her feet and stared him dead in the eye.
"I want to switch sides. He broke my heart. I don't care who kills him, I want him dead. But first, I want him humiliated. I have information." Annabeth's heart almost gave out as she spewed out the lies.
Luke's expression slowly changed. First he was dubious, then shocked, then smirking. The scar twisted when he smiled.
"I think, that me and you should talk."
Percy sent out the announcement for the fight. They were to leave tomorrow morning.
Percy sighed and leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed. He felt different than normal. Every previous fight, he'd been anxious and worried. Now, his body felt calm and ready to attack. Perhaps it was knowing he wouldn't be alone this time. That Jonathon had his back.
But—deep down—Percy knew it was because he had a hopeful feeling that he was going to see Annabeth.
"Grover!" Percy shouted. Grover came round the corner quickly.
"Yes?" He asked, expecting an order of some sort, even though it was ten at night.
"How good are you at keeping secrets?" Percy said casually.
"Brilliant, sir." Grover replied with a smile.
Percy gestured to the empty armchair opposite him.
"You should sit for this." He added.
Grover sunk down into the plush chair.
Percy lowered his voice, watching carefully for Grover's expected reaction of complete shock.
"Annabeth wasn't captured. It was her plan."
Percy pushed his horse to go faster as they charged towards battle. It was a beautifully laid out plan. One Annabeth had done before she left.
"STOP!" Percy bellowed as they came to the top of the hill.
In front of him, the vast space was filled with enemy traitors. The majority of the enemy army sat in the bottom of the valley, and Percy dreaded what he'd see as he dragged his eyes up to the top of the hill.
Percy drew in a raggedy breath as he saw what he'd been fearing.
Luke.
With Annabeth.
Her hair blew to the side in a gust of wind, spreading across her face. He analysed her appearance as well as he could from the distance. She looked uninjured and well fed, but who could be sure?
But Percy was truly shocked to find the strange emotion deep down in his gut as he stared. The small space between the two of them. The way Luke smiled down at her. How she treated it like it was a completely normal thing…
A fierce creature filled Percy's stomach. He could feel its intentions. It wanted Percy to run his sword through Luke's cocky grin. It snarled as Percy attempted to suppress it for the time being. However… each time he thought of dismembering Luke piece by piece… the creature surfaced enough for Percy to hear its purr of pleasure.
"This is merely half of my remaining army!" Luke's voice carried across the now windless valley.
"Now, we will fight properly!" Luke bellowed. A bugle echoed across the valley, emitting déjà vu from Percy as he charged down the hill. Percy held the sword in front of him, clearing a path rather than fighting.
"Get to Annabeth!" He shouted to Jonathon. Together, the slashed through the green clad army, and began climbing the hill on the opposite side. Finally, Percy and Jonathon emerged on the other side of the army.
Annabeth was no longer there.
Although his heart sunk to his feet, Percy wasn't surprised. He turned on his horse, and faced the battle, looking for a swish of long blonde hair. When he saw none, Percy sighed and prepared to go into the fight.
"I've got your back." Percy said to Jonathon, he gripped the reins of his horse tightly in one hand and clenched his sword in the other.
"And I've got yours. Let's go." Jonathon said.
They charged.
Annabeth kept her face still as Luke sent her back to the base camp. She began to turn her horse, when he grabbed her arm.
"Be careful." He said, looking her dead in the eye. Annabeth nodded and smiled until he let go, then kicked her horse and fled.
Since she'd been with him, he'd been convinced they could go back to the way things were before she left to work for the Kingdom. Annabeth had continued to play along, but she had to wonder if the feelings were entirely there.
The ride back to base camp was a short one. Annabeth hadn't had any idea it existed; they'd been careful to keep it hidden.
Clara was hidden somewhere in there. Annabeth felt certain of it.
Possibly Luke's tent. Everyone she'd asked had no idea where Clara was, but also had never been in Luke's tent. Annabeth had formed a plan as soon as she had this information. Once left alone, she would creep into Luke's tent and search it.
Annabeth took a longer ride back to base camp to clear her head. Dropping her horse to a light trot and going round the woods rather than through them would add half an hour to her journey.
The light breeze blew about Annabeth's hair as she fully relaxed for the first time since she'd handed herself over to Luke's army. Through the soft wind—perhaps it was her imagination—she caught the strangely familiar scent of the sea…
Finally, Annabeth arrived at camp.
There were very few people about. Various younger delinquents who couldn't fight, the cook, and the only other female Annabeth had seen. She left her horse tied to the post outside her tent with a small bucket of water.
"Back so soon?" The cook inquired politely.
Annabeth had been noticed. Creeping into Luke's tent was out.
"Yes. Luke asked me to pick up his other sword from his tent then ride back." Annabeth smiled politely.
"Asked you to go into his tent?" The chef said dubiously, narrowing his eyes.
Time to play the superior card.
"Luke and I were childhood friends. He offered me an escape by letting me join this army. Of course we have an extended trust. I really don't see why this is so difficult for you to grasp, I'm merely going in, getting a sword and coming back out. Don't you have things to be cooking?" Annabeth said haughtily, and marched off without waiting for an answer.
She continued the superior manner all the way up to Luke's tent, brushing off nosey inquisitors.
She paused outside the tent opening. Nothing could be heard from the outside. This was why she had come. There was no going back.
Annabeth took a deep breath, and slipped into the tent.
Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light, and she realized the large tent was separated into three sections.
The biggest one—that Annabeth currently stood in—had three large tables covered in plans, a weapons rack, and an armour stand. Annabeth walked through it, lightly brushing her fingers across the plans she'd helped draw up. Not her best work, but she couldn't offer Luke proper advice without disadvantaging Percy.
She stopped at the weapons rack. It held only one sword, a strange looking double edged sword. On the hilt, the two snakes slithered around the entire thing.
Annabeth slid her hand around the cold hilt, and lifted it out of the rack. It was surprisingly light. Annabeth spun it round in the air a few times, snorting slightly as she almost speared her own foot.
The wind picked up outside. The noise brought Annabeth back to her task, but she kept the unusual sword in her hand, her paranoia and fear of being caught ruling her judgment.
A quick glance into the second section of the tent showed it was just a bed and an armoire.
Annabeth steeled her nerves before she entered the third section. If she was wrong, and Clara wasn't in here, she'd snuck into Luke's tent and possibly blown her cover for nothing. Briefly, she shut her eyes and said a quick prayer.
"Please." She muttered, then pushed through, her eyes still shut.
Annabeth slowly opened her eyes.
And there she was.
Clara.
Tied up, gagged, lying on a filthy mattress. The Princess's dark hair was matted and greasy, her cheeks sunk in dramatically. Her expensive dress had been swapped for a flimsy, badly made smock.
Annabeth gasped as she took in Clara's appearance. Clara grunted twice, then finally pulled her eyes open. Annabeth swept forward and took off the gag, ignoring the tears spilling down her face.
"Annabeth." Clara gasped. Annabeth used her dagger to cut off Clara's ties, and the bedraggled Princess threw her arms around Annabeth and pulled her into a big hug.
"But why are you here? Where's Percy?" Clara asked when she'd let Annabeth go.
"And why are you wearing trousers?" Clara said, shocked.
Annabeth smiled, despite the situation. Only Clara could worry about her clothes at a time like this.
"She's in your tent!" Annabeth heard someone shout from outside.
Her entire body froze. She'd been in here longer than she thought. That hadn't been the wind picking up, that had been hooves pounding against the ground.
"Annabeth?" A furious voice demanded.
Her blood ran cold.
Luke.
Don't kill me?