I have to say, you guys are awesome. More than thirty reviews on one chapter? I love you all, and hope you'll support me to my goal of getting 1000 reviews. For all the people who've been telling me that all I care about it reviews, I'll be truthful. I love reviews. They make my day, and they give me the inspiration to keep writing because I know that someone likes my story. But no, I'm not just writing for the reviews. I'm writing because I love to write.

Enjoy the chapter!

Annabeth

I groaned and rolled over in bed, blinking rapidly and trying to sooth my headache. There was, thankfully, no man in the bed next to me, although I was still fully clad in my clothes, with my dagger hanging off my hip, and my head felt like someone was driving a nail into it.

I would have liked to stay in bed for a while longer, but I could hear movement on the deck above me and decided it was time to get up. The sun was fully streaming through the portholes of the Athena room, which were freed of their leather covers and were allowing fresh air to flow into the room, which I was grateful for.

Dragging myself out of bed, I quickly bathed and dressed in fresh clothes, before heading upstairs. On the way, I stopped by the mess hall and got a fresh glass of water, which was delivered at break-neck speed by a wind nymph. Incredibly, not a drop was spilled.

Emerging into the light of day, I looked around to see the deck bustling with pirates. Percy himself was dressed and standing on the masthead of the Argo, leaning out over the water and holding a rope for support. I slowly made my way over to him, noticing that a grey mass was visible on the horizon now.

"You're awake," he greeted me with a smile. "How nice. And freshly bathed, I see." My hair was still damp. "How do you feel?"

"Awful," I admitted. "Truly awful." Percy only chuckled, before turning back to the landmass. Only when I saw how large it had gotten in the short period of time we had been conversing did I realize how quickly the ship was moving. All three of the Argo's sails were flying fully with the wind behind them, and although she was too big for oars, there must have been some sort of mechanism powering the ship because a wake of water was being tossed up behind her. We were slicing through the waves like a sword through armor, so to speak.

"We'll be arriving in Greece today," Percy told me, his expression sobering slightly. "And you'll be tried for centuries of crimes against the Greeks that your people have committed."

"Harsh," I pointed out, and Percy just shook his head.

"You'll be either assigned to slavery or exiled to the Northern Lands," he said. "What if a British ship brought a Greek back to their homeland?"

"Public execution on sight," I answered immediately, before understanding where he was coming from. "Oh."

"We don't believe in death without trial," Percy said. "But it is hard to convince the committee against killing a Brit. They're hated in these parts."

"So I don't have much of a chance," I said dejectedly. Great. After all we had been through, after everything I had survived, it was only to arrive in Greece and die.

"Don't worry," Percy said, his face hard and determined. "I have the full leverage of the Geek Royal house behind me. If need be, I'll hike up to Olympus and drag Zeus himself down to testify for you."

"Why would Zeus be in my favor?" I asked, surprised. In my mind, the gods had more reason to hate the British than Percy did. The captain just smiled.

"His daughter would be mad at him," was all he said. He turned back towards Greece, which was growing larger by the second. I studied his body, his face, the lithe curves and defined muscles underneath his breastplate. Right now, his face was calm and relaxed, his strongly defined chin and mischievous smile clearly reflecting the godly side of his family. Riptide was hanging on his belt, but I had seen him draw the weapon and strike faster than anyone I had ever seen. In my short life, I had been to many places, from the dark streets of England to the sun-beaten, savage plains of Africa. I had see thousands of fighters, good ones, bad ones, all who had met their end at the end of a British musket. Never before had I seen something that could stand up to the force of a bullet, until Percy had come along.

There was no question in my mind: Percy was the greatest fighter I had ever seen. He was fast as a snake and strong as a bull, and he carried himself with such confidence that he went into every fight expecting to win. I was extremely glad that he was on my side.

"Is there something on my face?" He asked me with a smirk. I started, realizing that I had been staring at him. I blushed a deep red.

"Just… wondering," I said. "How good of a fighter you are." Percy arched an eyebrow at me. "I mean, in comparison to other cultures."

"Such as?" Percy asked. "Who would you say is the greatest British fighter?"

"William Marshal," I answered without hesitation. It was true. There was a large movement in Britain to bring us out of the knight-ages and into the days of lead and gunpowder, but there was a small creed of knights who believed that there would always be a time for hand-to-hand fighting.

"And how good is he?" Percy asked.

"Very good," I answered. "Incredible with all sorts of arms, and maybe the best horse-back rider I have ever seen. He is incredibly fast and so strong, and he fights with a four-foot sword as if it were a dagger."

"Hmm," Percy said, nodding slowly. "I am intrigued now. Someday, Annabeth Chase, I will meet this Sir Marshal on the battlefield." He made eye contact. "And I shall kill him, only so I may laugh in the face of your King."

And as bad as it should have sounded, I felt a sort of pleasure at the thought of the arrogant knight falling.

"The King is even more arrogant than Marshal," I told Percy. I wasn't sure why I was saying it, but it seemed like a good time to talk about the British. "He sits in his throne all day, with his feet propped up and being fed by servants, and when battle comes he demands to be carried in on a throne, where he sits and sends men to their death."

"As I thought," Percy nodded. "In Greek culture, the King will lead the charge whenever it is allowed."

"What if he dies?" I asked, and Percy smiled.

"Once the rest of the army has finished their fury-ridden battle, he will be burned and his soul will travel to the underworld, where the Greeks above him celebrate his courageous death."

"Why do you enjoy someone's death?" I asked, still puzzled by this tradition of theirs.

"Death in battle," Percy told me. "At the hands of an enemy, is the greatest fate that a Greek can achieve. For one who gives his life for the gods can will be given Elysium by the same gods."

"So you're just preparing for the next life," I summarized, and Percy nodded.

"And enjoying this one while we can," he added. Up ahead, I could see two low, wooden triremes approaching in oars. I could see each one held twenty men, all dressed in battle armor.

"I'll handle this," Percy told me lightly. Then, hopping up on to the masthead, he grabbed the nearest spear, wound up and hurled it at the closest boat.

Less than five seconds later, the spear whipped past Percy's shoulder, ruffling his hair before clearing the length of the ship and splashing into the water.

"What was that?" I asked, completely shocked. Percy grinned before answering.

"That was Reyna," he told me. "A… friend." Then he added, in a louder voice: "Who throws like my grandma!"

The reply came instantly. "Your grandma was a Titan, Kelp Head! I'll take that as a compliment."

Percy

"She's British."

The tax collector blinking, looked Annabeth over, glanced at me, blinked again and continued to stare at Annabeth. I let out a long suffering sigh.

"Yes, she's british," I snapped. "And she's under my protection, you'll notice."

"You're a ship captain," the little man replied. I growled and my right hand twitched towards Riptide.

"This is the Argo," I snarled, and the man started once he recognized the name. He tore his gaze off of Annabeth and focused on me, eyes wide and disbelieving.

"P-Perseus?" He asked, dropping to one knee and bowing his head. "You should have announced your arrival, prince! There would have been a banquet prepared, and a feast announced, and the parties would have carried on for days…"

"There's no time for that," I snapped, hauling him to his feet. "Bring me to my father. We were attacked on the Plains of Modriar." I held his gaze. "It was the Arcadian army. As of now, Greece goes to war.

Linebreak

Jason, Reyna and I marched down the peir, flanked by Annabeth and Thalia. Annabeth was looking around, her mouth forming a small O of surprise and wonder as she took in the great city.

Even after living here my entire life, the city was still incredible. Every building was built of sparkling white stone, cut perfectly and polished until it gleamed. The air was clean and fresh, and the roads were paved red lined with trees. The city was built around a hill, with the dockside surrounded by well-guarded buildings.

Once you got past the soaring black gates, the outer farms of the city started. Kilometers after that, you reached the base of the mountain, where the actually city started. The roads curled up the side of the peak, the buildings gradually getting larger and more grand as you ascended. Right at the very top of the mountain was a temple to the gods, a massive project that looked over the whole city and the surrounding countryside.

And just below that, smaller but no less grand, was my fathers royal palace, and my rightful home. One the other side of the mountain was the royal court of Greece, where all criminals were tried and normally executed.

The phalanx of twelve guards that were at the edge of the pier moved to stop us, their eyes searching the faces of my crew. They skipped over Reyna, as she was a normal guard of the waters, but the rest of us were under close inspection.

"Her," the head guard snapped, pointing at Annabeth. "I haven't seen her before."

I held his gaze, my hand twitching towards Riptide. "She's new."

"Where did you find her?" He demanded, taking a step closer to me. I felt by blood boil and my heart start to pound. I knew there was no way out of this situation.

"On a British ship," I replied, and I saw him move, his hand reaching for his Gladius as he started to shrug his shield back into a defensive position.

With a slithering hiss, Jason stepped forwards and drew his sword, swinging a kick that sent the guard off balance. The next instant, the son of Zeus had a golden blade pressed to his throat. Riptide was out a second later and I felt Reyna draw her own Gladius. Without looking, I knew Thalia would have an arrow notched in her bowstring.

The formation of guards responded instantly, shields swinging forwards and locking into a defensive, impenetrable formation. I clenched me teeth and spoke.

"Stand back, Jason."

Never taking his eyes off the front most man, Jason did as I instructed. I was slightly surprised; I had expected Jason to stay as he was. But he could understand the urgency of this situation.

"Stand down, men," I ordered, my voice still low and dangerous.

"Captain, I'm not sure you understand the full volume of this situation," the head guard told me, his sword now fully drawn and held ready. Riptide, on the other hand, was hanging relaxed by my side.

"Do enlighten me," I snapped sarcastically.

"You're harboring a fugitive," the guard said. "Any British captured and brought to Greece are under the full control and lawful influence of the Greek Royal Court."

"And councilman Theron," Jason said from next to me, letting out a short bark of laughter. "What do you think will happen to her?"

"What's fair," the guard replied, and I saw his muscles tense, his eyes flick to Jason and his shield drop fractionally.

A casual flick of my wrist and Riptide responded, striking up in a blur of bronze and knocking the officers thrust away from Jason's chest before he could even react. The man swung again and I leaned to the side, dodging lazily and letting the blade scream past my ear. I didn't strike back, merely letting the guard cut forehand and backhand, each strike ringing sharply off my own sword.

With one more flick of my wrist, I sent my opponents' blade spinning away across the dock. He gripped his shield tightly, no doubt prepared to continue the fight with just that weapon, but Reyna's voice cut through the conflict.

"Stop," she ordered. Obligingly, I stepped back but kept Riptide out. "Percy, put your sword away," she told me. I sent her a dry smirk and continue to swing it lightly. "Percy."

"Yes?" I asked, not taking my eyes of the formation. Reyna sighed, stepping forwards to place herself between myself and the guard formation. She glanced uneasily back at me, and I did my best to looked reassuring. Her position was ceremonial only; if I chose to, I could merely bypass Reyna without a thought and engage the phalanx.

It wasn't boastful; it was the truth. Reyna was a skilled, fearsome fighter whom I knew any enemy would cower before on a battlefield. But the fact was that she was neither willing nor able to be me in single-hand combat. She was, on contrast, quite a better shot with a spear or a bow, for that matter. In fact, most of the people in the army could best me with a bow and arrow.

"I think the best way to deal with this situation is calmly," she announced, speaking to both groups. "There will be no fighting in Greece, whether it be over a British fugitive or one mans injured pride." Her eyes settled on my, and I grinned in acceptance. But Reyna was having none of it and held my gaze until, with a sigh, I sheathed Riptide.

Seeing the weapon away did little to reassure the Guard, but the reluctantly relaxed their formation and slung their shields back into an unthreatening position.

"Good," Reyna said. "Now, Percy, it is proper for a British fugitive to be thrown into jail."

"And I would have no qualms," I answered. "If the mentioned enemy was not British, at least not in my eyes." I switched my gaze to the head of the guard. "She held her ground against a British ship, visited the Hills of Uthal and stood with me as we confronted the Arcadian Army."

Now the man was horrible confused. "Arcadian army?"

"Perhaps we should explain this to a higher court," I said. "I will place Annabeth," I stressed the name, to show that she should be referred to as such. "Under protection, and we shall travel the Royal Court and speak with my father."

"Your father?" He was lost now.

"The King," I explained. He started for a moment, before looking me over again and dropping to one knee hastily.

"King Perseus," he rushed. "Please, my Lord, my apologies." I looked at him, before giving a long-suffering sigh.

"I hate it when people do that," I muttered. "Thalia, look after Annabeth while we're away. Don't let anyone touch her, and if they do make sure you put multiple arrows through them." Then I looked at the guard, who had risen to his feet unsurely. "Alright, watchman. Take me to dad."

Linebreak

"It's amazing."

I spun in a slow circle, taking in the glimmering, soaring city around me. All around, people in white roads bustled and pushed past each other to get to wherever they were going. Several intricately carved fountains spat water high into the air, and I made a mental note to ask about how they did that. Perhaps, I thought, they used air pressure to send the water flying? Or maybe there was a crank system that shot it up and out of the statues. Either way, it made for a spectacular display. As Thalia and I passed one, I stopped and stared at the water for several minutes, before shaking my head in amazement.

"What is it?" Thalia asked from next to me. I pointed at the water.

"It stays the same level," I explained. "The water level stays the same, despite the amount that's being put it."

"It's the drains," The black-haired girl explained, pointing out two horizontal slits cut in to the bottom. "They take out the water at exactly the same rate it's put in, then they recycle it."

"It's amazing," I repeated. Thalia smiled.

"It's pretty simple, really," she told me. I shook my head in wonder one more time before following her down the nearest road, both sides lined with white houses.

"The markets up here," Thalia informed me. "We can get something to eat, if you'd like."

"I don't have any money," I said apologetically, and Thalia smiled briefly.

"Well, I do," she said. "And we're putting you through enough by dragging you to Greece, so we may as well pay for your food."

"Whose councilman Theron?" I asked as we resumed our walk, headed for a semi-covered courtyard a hundred meters away. I could hear yelling and smell an exotic mix of spices and cooking food. My mouth started to water.

"He's one of the most influential councilmen in the inner circle of Greeks," Thalia explained. "He hates Brits with everything inside of him, and he holds a strong resentment for demi-gods as well." I took a moment to digest this.

"So he hates Percy?" I asked, and Thalia nodded.

"He tried to seize the throne when Percy left to be a pirate," she added. "Percy's dad quickly reminded him that only royalty could take the throne, and if Theron made one move towards killing him Poseidon would strike Theron."

That led to another question. "How is Percy royalty, is his dad is Poseidon and his father is the carrier?" In Britain, the carrier was the member of the royal family— be it King or Queen, though it was usually King— who carried the royal blood and wasn't married into the family.

"Percy's mother married the King after Percy was born," Thalia explained. "He took Percy in as his own son, and when Percy married Rachel Elizabeth Dare he officially became part of the royal family."

"And Rachel was the girl who became the oracle?" I asked, and Thalia nodded. She was a lot less closed-lip now that Percy wasn't here.

"Technically, her and Percy never divorced," she explained. "And Percy is the only rightful heir of the throne, whether he likes it or not."

"And he chose to become a pirate." The disbelief was evident in my voice.

"According to Greek tradition, he needed to marry a suitable wife before he could step up to Kingship," Thalia said. "Percy was still deeply hurt, and instead of re-marrying he took of his crown, grabbed the nearest boat captain and jumped on the ship."

"It wasn't that easy." The words were out of my mouth almost on their own violation. "I remember something I was told. Luke new his destiny when he let Percy on the ship."

"And he did," Thalia said. "Someday, wife or not, Percy will have to step up to his throne. His father is passing slowly of age, and Greece is on the brink of war with Britain. The events of the past few days have made matters even worse, and we will need a strong military leader to hold us in place."

"What about Luke's destiny?" I pressed, not missing the way Thalia dodged the question. She grimaced.

"There was a prophecy," she told me. "The only way for us to win the war would be for Percy to gain them militaries absolute trust— not as a commander, but as one of them. He had to become a captain. He had to be the greatest fighter Greece had ever seen, a battle-hardened killer with a heart of metal and a deep-seated hate for the British."

"Don't you all hate the British?" I asked, and Thalia looked at me expressionlessly.

"Well, Percy does more than most," she said. "After all, they were the ones who killed his mother."

I stood still for a moment as I digested this information. Percy's mother— who would also be the Queen, then— had been killed by British soldiers. The boy had suffered, that was for sure, and there was no doubt he was against my original homeland for personal reason. I thought of what Thalia had said: A battle-hardened warrior with a heart of metal and a deep-set hate. Percy, at the moment, seemed to fit all of those descriptions. Because he might smile, he might laugh and drink and joke, but there was a definite shadow in his eyes.

My thought was cut off by Thalia suddenly grabbing my arm and yanking me off to the side. I shook my head urgently and looked around for a cause of her alarm and spotted a phalanx of guards marching down the street. Each of them wore shining gold armor with a silver designed etched into the metal. They were obviously on alert, not the routine sweeps that we had run across a couple of times.

"Who's that?" I whispered to Thalia as she pulled us through the knots of people.

"That's Calypso," she told me. "Of the Royal Heritage of Troy, one of Greece's most powerful cities." Her face darkened. "She wanted to marry Percy. He said no."

What did you guys think? I wasn't too happy with this chapter, but people told me that the story is mainly Annabeth and Percy centric, so I decided to split them up to get more character development. I hope.

Action should pick back up in a few chapters, but until then try to bear with me. Also, I need a good suggestion for what the King should be called. Anyone?

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