A Crown of Golden Leaves
by theolims (xXTheDragonRider)
May 9, 2016

Some content may be considered disturbing to some readers. Please don't read if you're triggered by discussion of miscarriage.

Title: A Crown of Golden Leaves
Category: Het (Canon AU)
Characters/Pairings: Percy/Annabeth
Ratings/Warnings: T+/angst, major character death, violence, language, Romans, fluff, historical inaccuracies,
Tags: soulmates, good vs. evil, AU, Greco-Roman AU, omg what has this fic turned into?, truth and lies, light and darkness, right and wrong, destiny, arranged marriages, FLUFF, feelings, relationships,
Summary: Annabeth, a princess from the declining polis called Athens, must marry the Heir Apparent of Rome, Perseus, in order to save her country and the rapidly expanding world from a threat even the gods couldn't foresee.

PART II OF II: Where the Shadows Go

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love ."

- William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Caput XXXVI: All Fall Down

SOME time after the clicked shut behind him, Annabeth switched from copying Cicero to translating the story of Theseus from Greek into Latin. Her chalk scratched against the board as she translated . . . about how he went and slayed the minotaur but his father killed himself when he saw that flag that indicated that Theseus was dead. It was sad how a small mistake like that could end a man's life. Carelessness and haste, that was what ended his life . . .

Her hand was shaking.

She tilted her head and stared at the way the chalk brushed against the slate, smudging the carefully written letters to the point that they were almost unreadable. Why is my hand shaking like this? Because she wasn't clutching the chalk tightly – In fact, it rolled out of her fingers and clattered against the ground.

The slate began to slip off her lap and she put it back on top of the counter. Even that was a struggle – Her hands slipped once or twice and nearly knocked her glass of water off.

She needed air. Fresh air. There was no way she would finish translating – She couldn't concentrate like this. Though air . . . air could clear her head, and then she could come back to translating it later-

When she stood, her head spun and she grasped her hand against the table to steady herself. To keep herself from toppling over. Something . . . something may be wrong after all. She shouldn't be this dizzy. Her eyes closed tight. The humid air made her hair stick to the skin on the back of her neck and she breathed through her nose, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

It took longer than it should have, longer than she expected.

It was hot in here, and it was stuffy. Or was that just her? She should get outside – walk a little. That should clear up this bout of illness quickly enough. There was no use in worrying anyone over her after all – It was probably just some stomach bug at the worst.

Or just a bout of dizziness, of course.

She slipped her feet into her sandals (she could still remember Percy's sarcastic comment about not wearing shoes when they first met quite clearly – There was no need to give him a reason to be smug that he had been right) and walked across the room.

The guard at the door looked at her in concern as she stepped outside. She couldn't remember his name for some reason—Which was strange because she usually took care to remember their names. Either he had recently risen through the ranks into the Praetorian Guard or . . .

Or what?

Or her memory wasn't there completely. Which meant her mind was working slower than usual –

That rational shouldn't make sense. Maybe something was wrong with her . . .

"With all due respect," he began and she knew that he was probably going to say something most nobility would consider insulting, "are you feeling all right, Lady Annabeth? You look a little pale."

A smile curved reflexively on her lips as she nodded. Huh. She hadn't even realized that was a habit at this point . . . Maybe dealing with the patricians was changing her habits?

What was going on with her thoughts?

"I'm well. I'm just going for a short walk to get some fresh air before going back in."

The guard still looked unsure, and a little worried, and she realized that he might not be the average guard who just listened to what she or Percy said.

Mostly what Percy said.

He wasn't as mindless as most of the guards who just followed commands – He wasn't a dog like most of them. He was intelligent. He could think for himself. But she didn't think he was malicious like the guard who had –

She realized by the slightly raised eyebrow (that was going steadily higher the longer time ticked on) that she hadn't answered.

"I'm not going far. I'll be fine."

The guard was wringing his hands together. It was odd to have such an expressive guard – Let alone one that challenged her. Maybe he would be a good conversationalist?

Maybe her head wasn't screwed on straight anymore?

"The Caesar said that you and the Heir Apparent need to have tightened security, m'lady." There it was – A drawl. It was similar to Praetor Jason's –

"Don't worry Frank. I'll escort Lady Annabeth where she wishes to go."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Ja—Praetor. Praetor Jason!" The guard – Frank, she knew his name now, and it did ring a bell for some reason – tripped over the greeting and saluted smartly.

"At ease," Jason told Frank with a wry smile. She noticed the slight change in his accent – Something less "aristocratic" and more "common" and she thought that they might know each other. It explained both Frank's odd uneasiness and familiarity mixed together. It also explained why Jason would greet him by his given name rather than by his rank. He looked at her and his head slowly tilted to one side. "You look a little pale, Annabeth. Are you feeling well?"

She almost rolled her eyes. Would have if Frank the Guard wasn't there too.

"I'm fine," she snapped, not quite able to regulate her tone. "It's just a little stuffy in there and I wanted some fresh air."

Something in his eyes told her he didn't quite believe her, but he nodded in acceptance.

"I'm guessing Percy isn't in there…?"

She shook her head. Her head spun even at the slight motion.

Don't move head. Okay then.

"No, he left a while ago to focus on reports. How come?"

He looked at Frank and she realized he didn't want the guard to overhear. She started walking down the hall, and he followed, a half step behind her. Her head wasn't spinning quite as badly as before, which meant that the dizzy spell must be passing – She was becoming a little nauseous for some reason though.

Maybe there was something wrong with her.

"Reyna, I, and a few of the other praetors have been looking for him. According to Gaius, there's been a bout of widespread illness that the Caesar thinks he should be aware of. I don't know any more than that – He told us nothing else."

Widespread illness?

"That's . . . not good."

He snorted. "Way to state the obvious, little miss."

She shrugged. It was the only response she could think of to that, and she felt like that information warranted a response.

There was a pause long enough that it became stilted. Annabeth searched around in her mind for something to say, but she came up with nothing. She didn't really know much about Jason other than he was incredibly loyal to Percy (even more so to him than to the Caesar – She somehow got the feeling he didn't like Octavius too much), he was engaged to Reyna (she wasn't sure why they weren't married yet), and he was a plebeian, not a patrician.

He was surprisingly quiet for being so nice in general. Then again, she wouldn't expect a praetor to be plebeian – From her understanding, Rome hadn't worked that way in a while.

"So, are you going to tell me the real reason why you decided that you had to go on a walk, because 'stuffy' would be the last word I would think of using to describe your chambers."

She wouldn't expect a praetor to be so blunt either. She looked at him.

"I can see what Percy means now. Your eyes really like they have storm clouds in them." He rolled his eyes, and she got the feeling that he rolled his eyes at a lot of things Percy said. She knew she did at least. "You look really pale."

She hesitated, considering what to tell him . . . Definitely no lies. "I was a little dizzy earlier, but I'm fine now. I just needed some fresh air."

He still looked skeptical.

"Annabeth?" She heard Piper say, and she came around the corner, shifting laundry from one hip to another – "Who are you talking . . ." She looked up "-to?"

For a moment, Piper stared at Jason, her mouth hanging open slightly. Annabeth blinked at the startled look in her eyes—She hadn't ever seen Piper look so . . . She didn't even know how to explain the emotion she saw in her eye with a word. She looked a little unhinged. And shocked. And hurt. Maybe a little angry too?

She looked guilty too.

Why would she look at Jason like that?

"Uh . . ." She yanked her gaze off Jason, and she finally registered that he had gone rigid. Why was he so tense?

What in the world-?

"Right. Uh. I'm just . . . going to go . . ." She gestured toward the laundry with one hand weakly. She looked frazzled. And out of sorts. Jason wasn't helping either. She glanced Jason before looking back at Annabeth. "Um. Right. Vale…te?"

Why did that come out as a question?

"Are you feeling all right?" Annabeth asked slowly, stopping Piper from edging around her. "You seem … distracted. And tense."

Jason snorted.

Piper glared at him. "Do you have something to say, praetor?"

Annabeth stared at her. She'd never, in all her life, seen Piper speak with such a bitter tone to someone, especially someone who she didn't even really know.

She hadn't really even heard Piper to speak to someone so bluntly either, even though she'd tried to convince her to speak to her like that. She'd given it up as a lost cause long ago . . .

And now she was addressing Jason like this? Someone wasn't adding up.

"Oh, no. Nothing at all." He said seriously. "I was thinking something. I apologize for interrupting you, miss."

Tension. The air was so thick with tension that it felt like glass. If she cut through it with a knife or her saber, she felt like she could shatter it.

And it was coming from these two people.

She didn't know why they would be so . . . There was something between them that felt like it could click, but wouldn't, so it disrupted the air between them. She felt like there was a storm brewing from the alps, and it was rapidly coming for Rome.

All she could think was that they hated each other, with the way Piper was not quite glaring (which was her version of glaring daggers, really) and Jason was showing so many emotions, showing that he was so clearly upset, even though he seemed to be very even tempered-

The ground shifted under her feet. Up became down and down became up.

They were saying something – Piper was talking to Jason, voice tense, but Annabeth couldn't be sure what it was. Something about Reyna? And now something about escorting her somewhere? She tried to breathe, thinking that it might pass – Maybe she'd been unconsciously holding her breath? But no – Her vision was tunneling and the edges were tinted dark.

She stumbled forward, crashing against something. The wall, maybe? It was hard. Piper shouted in surprise.

"Annabeth?!"

"I may have underestimated how dizzy I was," she muttered, looking clearly, looking at Jason. He was staring at her with wide eyes before he crossed the room and knelt in front of her. Funny. She hadn't even realized her knees hadn't been able to hold her weight and she'd sank to the floor. That explained why there were hurting.

Her vision was spinning and she closed her eyes, trying to block out the light. That didn't even help – It only made her feel worse, actually.

She tasted something salty and warm in her mouth – Something like iron, maybe?

Blood.

Her eyes flew open as she began to cough. The coughs were deep and they came from her chest, and she folded over. She clapped her hand to her mouth as her gag reflex triggered and – Iron. More iron. More salt.

Her hand shook as she dropped her gaze to stare at her hand.

It was coated with a shiny, red substance.

"Oh, my gods." She heard herself say. The world kept spinning and she stared at that hand. "Uh . . ." She held her hand out and she heard someone curse. Probably Jason.

The world swayed again. That was definitely not normal. Her vision shouldn't be blurring either – That wasn't normal either.

Something was really, really wrong with her.

Oh, why was she so stubborn?

"I may have understated how dizzy I was earlier," she muttered, blinking the light. She managed to catch Piper's gaze – Her eyes were purple today. What an odd moment to notice such an odd detail.

Her vision spun, the dark edges closing in, and that was the last thing she saw.

Her dreams were chaotic and confusing. At least, she thought they were dreams.

She saw her stepmother, Helen, waving at her as she stepped onto the ship that took her away from Athens and toward Rome. She remembered that Helen had been sad to see her go, but had wished her luck – She'd said that hopefully, Rome would give her more than Athens ever could.

Funnily enough, it had. She hadn't believed her back then.

One day, she'd have to thank her.

Mountains were jutting into the deep blue sky, a direct contrast of gray slate against cloudless blue. They seemed to stretch endlessly on and on, with no end in sight. Green hills rolled gently over rich, fertile planes. The sea crashed against the bedrock of the mountain range with an angry roar. The spray leapt so high she thought that it could touch the heavens, as if Poseidon could enter Zeus' realm, drenching everything in sight. The spray was weight. The waves had white caps.

There was fire in the dark red sky, blazing a trail across it, cutting it in half. It almost looked like a star had fallen out of the heavens and was now touching earth, trying to burn it to the ground. But the earth wouldn't burn.

Perhaps it was lighting up the dark night?

Then her vision went out and she saw nothing as she sank further into the heavy, sticky darkness.

She thought she heard someone laughing at her.

Percy had even stopped fidgeting.

He wasn't quite sure how long it had been since Annabeth had been taken into those doors: Long enough that his frantic pacing had become finger twitching and foot jiggling. And long enough that eventually, he even stopped twitching. He was glad Jason was here to keep him sane, but he still wished –

He exhaled, allowing his head to thump back against the wall. Jason shifted against him, and he realized that he must have woken up or was waking up again. Apparently, his boney shoulder was comfortable enough to fall asleep against, if the snoring by his ear had been anything to go by.

It was hard staying still. Eventually, he'd started to fiddle with the coin that Jason's spear turned into, though he was pretty sure the blond would be . . . unhappy with him later when he found out, to say the least.

In his defense, the coin had fallen out of his pocket and clattered against the floor. How was Percy not supposed to play with it when he was already antsy and it was shiny and more interesting than the grains in the wood?

He looked up, doubling checking the doors. They were still closed.

Waiting. Still waiting. Now he understood how Annabeth felt like when he'd been ill in Tarentum – The waiting was horrible. And she'd thought he'd died. He was glad he wasn't dead. He just hoped she wasn't –

Stop. Don't jinx it. With your luck…

"She's going to be okay," Jason mumbled, sounding half asleep. His words echoed Reyna's, and he wished he knew where she'd gone too. She'd said something about informing his pater earlier, but she hadn't come back.

Gods, he hated waiting. He honestly hated it.

Jason sat up and shook his head, probably to clear the cotton webs from his brain. He stretched with a yawn, and Percy head several small pops coming from his bones. He rolled his head.

"Sorry for falling asleep on you." He still sounded like he was asleep. Or, at least, his brain wasn't fully awake yet. He must have been exhausted – The sun had set and the moon had fully brightened quite some time ago.

Percy almost wished he could fall asleep too, but he felt way too awake to even attempt to sleep. He was tired – Bone tired, really. But he just . . . He couldn't even fathom the idea of sleeping. Not until he got news of her –

Of her –

"If she wasn't going to be okay, someone would have come out and told you by now, I'm sure." Jason must have been reading his mind. Again. He stretched his long legs easily, and Percy wondered how he could appear so casual and yet so formidable at the same time. "Besides, she's a fighter. I doubt she'd let herself die without a fight."

His stomach felt unsettled and he pulled his legs up to his chest, as if that would keep the gnawing of worry out of his chest. He rested his chin on top of his knees, nibbling on the inside of his cheek. It was a much more comfortable position than having Jason's head pressed against his shoulder as his hair tickled his neck. That wasn't fun.

Why does he sleep on people all the time anyway?

It was the waiting that was driving him insane. He just – He hated not knowing what was happening. It was a strange feeling, since usually he was one of the first who was told. At least, he was now that he was an adult. Frustration had been very prevalent when he was a child and no one told him anything.

Really, that was why he got into as much trouble as he had. Probably.

He wanted to scream.

He really, really wanted to scream. Probably at Zeus. Yes, he'd like to scream at Zeus. Of course, that would be a bad idea but he could fantasize about it, couldn't he?

"I just wish I knew what was going on," he admitted quietly. He also hated feeling vulnerable.

That was what he was feeling – He was feeling vulnerable too. And worried. Very worried. He just wanted to open those doors and command them to tell him what in Tartarus was going –

Frustration and bitterness made his voice sharp as he added, "I hate being out of control."

"We all do." Jason threaded his fingers together and placed them behind the back of his head. Percy rolled his eyes. "We normal people just get better at dealing with it."

He smiled. A little.

Jason sighed. "I wonder how much of our lives we really have a say in," he said, and there was melancholy in his voice. The change in his tone was worrisome. "The gods expect their heroes to die for them. The Fates play with the lives of us mere mortal men. It just makes me wonder how free we are, or if we are slaves to the Olympians and their meddling, but don't even know it."

"That's cheerful," he deadpanned. He thumped his head back against the wall. His eyes watered at his head throbbed mildly, and he pinched the bright of his nose, right between his eyes, to negate it out. At least a little.

He snorted. "I know. This is why you're the one who's going to be king and I'm not."

"Caesar."

"Same thing," he rolled his hand dismissively, and Percy shook his head. If anyone overheard them talking, they'd probably consider it treason and have them arrested, despite their ranks. He pulled his head up when the throbbing in his neck got to be a little too much.

There was a moment of silence between them, and then he said, "You know what I mean."

Jason sighed. "I do," he said seriously. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you . . ."

He looked at him. His eyes were closed. "What is it?" he asked. Usually, he just told him what he thought outright without thinking about it. If he'd been meaning to tell him something, then it was serious.

Except he usually told him something if it was serious the moment he saw it was serious.

He was a brilliant friend, but a terrible politician.

"Never mind," he sighed. Percy moved so that he was sitting sideways on the bench, and he poked him in his arm. Jason open one eyelid and squinted at him.

"Come on, tell me. You got me curious."

He saw him hesitating, before he clasped his hands together in his lap and opened his eyes. "Arrogance doesn't really become you, Percy."

Percy slowly blinked and his head fell to his side. "Huh?" he asked eloquently.

Jason bit his lip. "It's just something I noticed in Tarentum. The way you spoke to Malcolm occasionally, or Demetria and Darius sometimes, it was almost like they were less than you . . . Just hints here and there. You might want to keep an eye on that, since most of the heroes die because their egos become larger than their rationality."

He harrumphed and plopped his chin on his knees. He hadn't noticed that. That was bad. He should have known better . . . Of all the things to start developing, an ego was one of them? Not that he was doubting Jason, of course. He trusted his judgment more than his own. If he said something, he believed him.

Jason nudged him. "Don't worry. I'll stab you in the back if you go completely bonkers. That's what I'm here for."

He chuckled, even though there was nothing remotely funny about it. His sense of humor was strange – Quite dark, really. But always had a ring of truth in it.

"I know," he said wryly. "Let us hope that it doesn't come to that though."

Jason shrugged. "Reyna would probably kill both of us and then she'd haunt us in the underworld as our eternal punishment."

"True," he agreed wryly. They fell silent again for a little –

"She looked pretty bad earlier though." Jason said softly. "I feel like I failed in protecting her somehow. I feel like I've been failing a lot in protecting both of you lately."

He shook his head and nudged him with his shoulder. Jason didn't look at him in the eye or even smile a little, and Percy sighed.

"It's just bad luck, Jason. Don't blame yourself for that."

The doors opened and Percy was instantly on his feet as Gaius walked out into the open, shoulders hunched over. He looked even older than he did already, and the graveness etched in his face made his heart feel like it had plummeted from his chest down to his feet.

Not her. Not her too. Please not her, please don't take her away too, please –

"Annabeth's condition is stable, for now at least."

Percy felt like his muscles had coiled and ready for combat (they probably have been), and now they instantly loosened from their tense state. His knees shook. His eyes burned like knives for a split second before he closed them, breathing in to calm himself, and exhaling slowly through his nose.

She's okay.

So why would Gaius still look so worried?

He stared at the medicus, who placed a hand on his elbow and pulled him back down onto the bench he'd been sitting on. He directed a pointed look at Jason, who scrambled away.

Percy studied him, trying to figure out what he was going to say next. He had no idea. He was hoping it wasn't bad.

"There were . . . some complications though."

Percy frowned, and now dread was building in the pit of his stomach for an entirely different reason. "Gaius?" he said softly. "What do you mean?"

"All the signs – the blood loss, the lack of development . . . it points to one thing only. I was confused about why she wasn't showing by now, but now I understand . . . I'm sorry, Percy. She miscarried."

He blinked. Once, twice, thrice. Miscarried? But the only reason he would use that term is if a woman lost her child . . . but . . .

The world swayed and he grabbed the back of the bench to hold himself upright in the storm. He didn't understand. Why would she be . . . But . . . They hadn't . . . It should be impossible. But Gaius was a competent physician; he'd know the signs. Unless he had made a misdiagnosis. But he didn't understand. Why would Annabeth . . . ? But . . .

Gaius had continued on, something about how the child hadn't been growing right, which was why she hadn't begun to show. Except they had no child. That was a misconception of his pater. They hadn't even had sex yet – Why would they—Why would she have a child?

Why would she miscarry if she didn't have a child?

Was Gaius wrong? But no – Not only was he a renowned physician, miscarriage was often enough that even people who weren't medici would be able to tell the symptoms. So that meant the only option left . . .

But no, she wouldn't.

Would she?

This was insane. He'd gone mad. The world has gone mad.

His breathing picked up. He was probably going to hyperventilate if he didn't stop himself from panicking. He probably was panicking. He couldn't even shut down his emotions like he normally did—He could barely understand what they were. Annabeth made him unable to understand a lot of things, really. She also made him upset over a lot of things. But this definitely took the cake.

But he couldn't – He didn't understand. Why would she . . . He needed answers.

He couldn't sit here. He had to see her.

He interrupted Gaius' still on-going rant about . . . He didn't even know what he was talking about anymore. "May I –" His voice cracked. "May I see her?"

He hesitated. "You shouldn't."

"Please."

Gaius studied him for a moment before he nodded slowly, reluctantly. "Don't disturb her. She's resting."

As if he was in a trance, Percy stood and walked toward her room, ignoring the bustle of the infirmary. He thought one of the nurses said something to him, but he couldn't be sure and he just . . .

He turned the doorknob toward her door and swung it open slowly. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, adjusting to the dim lighting.

She was so pale. She shouldn't be that pale.

Percy honestly felt like he was going to be sick. He nearly crashed against the wall as walked over to her bedside. He hadn't even seen it – He'd been focused on her face. She could be merely sleeping for all he knew. She probably was.

Figures, even in sleep she was causing him anxiety. She was terrible for his health. Why had they agreed to this again anyway?

What was "this" anyway?

He shuddered and knelt next to her bed. More like he crashed against the ground and barely caught himself. At least, it felt like that to him.

He didn't know what to do.

There should be no reason . . . He'd almost forgotten that she was even supposed to be pregnant in the first place. What if she really had been pregnant – But then, why . . . ? She wouldn't have hidden it. Unless that was why she wanted . . . ? When he came back?

Was he just jumping to conclusions?

He wished she was awake. There had to be an explanation for this. All of this. Somehow. There had to be a logical reason – Maybe? But what other logical reason was there than that she had to have had sex with someone to be able to have miscarried a child, since Gaius rarely misdiagnosed something, and since it certainly was not with him-!

That's it. He was hysterical. Or, at least, becoming hysterical. He couldn't seem to get a grip on himself – The last time he'd been this upset was when Rachel had died and Annabeth was not dead.

But, gods, what if she really had been pregnant?

What if they had had –

Then she could have really lost their child today. If she hadn't already. But it wouldn't be "their," it would be just . . . hers.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the side of her bed. Something cool trickled down his cheek and hit his palm.

A tear.

Why was he crying?

Gods, was his grip on his emotions really this terrible? The hint of something happening and he completely loses it? The future Caesar shouldn't be acting this way, he had to be – He had –

A sob ripped its way out of his throat without his permission, even though he didn't know why or even what it was for. He certainly hadn't lost a child. She wasn't dead. So why would he be crying?

Out of relief, maybe?

Or was it sorrow?

Or even fear?

Why did she even affect him like this? He'd never – The only time he felt this way, but even then . . . She brought his emotions out in a way that was stronger than he'd ever felt before.

He almost laughed. Of course he'd be crying over this. Dear gods, it was Annabeth. Just that alone would make him illogical.

Would—Would—

He didn't even know what he was thinking anymore. He was definitely past hysterical at this point. Gods, he hoped nobody came in and saw him like this.

She'd probably have an explanation for this when she woke up.

There was no reason why he should dwell on this.

Still, he wept.

Author's Note: *watches as these chapters become longer and longer and groans* There goes consistency in writing style . . . Well, I have been writing this more than two years now, so I would hope my writing has matured a little-

Well, there goes the fluff and in comes the angst. I told y'all this would get dark.

Not much to say really - I've been freed from finals, and I impulsively signed up for more summer classes (because I get bored without something to do, apparently. I lasted 3 days, lol). Happily for me, they're self-paced. Sadly for you, I'm OCD and I'll probably end up demolishing a full year of math in a month or two. Heaven knows I finished a course already in three days what takes most people two months. :/

On the bright side, I managed to power through over 10 chapters in April? Hopefully the next update will be up before June 1. :)

So. Thoughts? ;) Have I completely chased you all away with the angst yet? :P

OH! Almost forgot! THANK YOU ALL FOR 100K READS AND 400+ REVIEWS. I NEVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD GET THIS FAR.

/and now I'm pretty sure this'll hit 500 reviews eventually, since this'll easily hit chapter 80 . . . *wink wink, nudge nudge*