Most of the siblings that Annabeth recognised had moved out a long time ago. Malcom, whom she was closest to, was in college somewhere, pursuing his doctorate degree in forensics.

There were a lot more than there used to be. It was kind of weird to think that her mother could have multiple children of the same age, in different places. Then again, the gods could be multiple places at once. It was not uncommon for them to be in several relationships at the same time.

Annabeth felt awkward around her siblings. They were sweet and kind, but she was so much older than most of them, and they were intimidated by her. A long time ago, she would've felt pleased by this, but she wasn't leading them anymore. She just wanted to be their sister.

The awkwardness wasn't helped by one of her sisters observing her like a labrat because she was curious as to how a child of Athena would conceive and give birth. (Since she had a uterus that was in use, and there was no clear passage to her brain from there, Annabeth assumed that her son would most likely not come out of her head.) When the questions became intrusive, the counsellor shooed their sister off. Annabeth had to step out and get some air.

She'd met the new cabin counsellor. His name was Carson Grey, of Scotland. Seventeen years old. His father was an antiquarian, and their homelife was a bed of roses. He was about as tall as she was, and milky pale, with thin, angular features, longish platinum hair, and hazel eyes. He wore a plaid shawl of earthy colours.

He was more quiet and reserved, with a soft voice, but he had an aura of authority that let you know he demanded respect. He was always doing something with his hands, and had a thoughtful gaze. He said he was not much of a fighter, but his weapon of choice was a sling or a spear. He preferred not to lead the war games, and let one of his other siblings plan attacks.

He now occupied her bunk in Cabin Six. He had laiden it with beautiful hand-made pottery and various weavings. A large wooden loom perched next to his personal chest, with innumerable spools of vibrant thread, organised by colour.

Judging by the adornment of his living space, he had recieved more of Athena's artsy craftsmanship than her tactical mindset. Aside from parentage, he and Annabeth were almost nothing alike, but she could see that he was a good leader.

Sometimes Annabeth was angry at her mother for bringing her into the world. She wasn't like the other immortals, who could have children unintentionally. Athena created them from her thoughts, with the full intention of having them. Knowing how terrible and vile the world often was to demigods, and having them anyway, as little gifts for her mortal flings.

Sometimes Annabeth saw a nurturing, devoted mother, but other times, she saw a cold, neglectful matriarch. Perhaps she was just bitter at her own misfortunes, but she couldn't help feeling this way sometimes.

Then again, maybe Annabeth was not so different. She knew a demigod's life could be hell, and yet she was eager to have children of her own. Children that would no doubt suffer if they ever saw the mortal world.

Was she cruel for allowing a child into a merciless existence? It made her want to shut it all out, and keep them in the camps forever, but she knew this was wrong. Water always found a way to escape over time. It did not want to be contained. Children did not want to be contained. But she wanted to protect them at all costs.

She felt her own son stirring inside her. It made her wonder if Athena felt her children. If she could feel them in her thoughts before they were born. Did she know exactly what they'd be like? Did she design them?
Athena and Poseidon were still in a sort of standoff. Would she reject her own grandchild? Surely, not. She was at least on peaceful terms with her son in law, as far as she could tell. And she was known as one of the more just goddesses in most cases.

Annabeth sat on the steps outside of Cabin Six and wondered why she was suddenly being so philosophical and moody. She definitely needed a nap. She heard the cabin door open as light poured out. It was Carson.

"Hey, y'alright?" His voice was so low and soft, she could barely hear him. "Sorry if Selma was creepin' ya out. She can be a wee bit invasive at times."

"Oh," she looked up at him. "Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you, Carson."

"You're quite welcome, Miss Annabeth. You may be a visitor, but you're still kin, and we oughta look out for one another. It's nice to meet you, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, too," she loved him already. "Thank you for treating me like a sister."

He smiled. "Think nothin' of it," he went back into the cabin and addressed all of their siblings.

What a nice boy.

It was getting late. The sky as now almost completely black. There was very light snowfall in the woods. Annabeth didn't see Percy in Cabin Three. He wasn't in the Big House, either. Chiron had not seen him.

She finally found him sitting on the dock of the canoe lake. Nymphs were reclining in and around the water, giggling and singing as they combed their hair.

Percy looked up at her. "Oh, hi!" He stood up. "Having fun?"

"I met my siblings," she said. "The counsellor is named Carson. He's wonderful. But one of my sisters was kind of weirding me out."

He raised his eyebrows. "How so?"

"Uh, well... She wanted to know if Luke was gonna come out of my head. And um... if I have female organs."

Percy's eyes widened and he cleared his throat. "What an... interesting child."

"It would seem so," she yawned. "I'm so tired suddenly."

"After we eat, we'll go back to the beach," he kissed her forehead. She still tingled from earlier that day. She wanted to touch him some more.

"That sounds okay to me," she adjusted her scarf to cover her ears. "You gonna sit at Poseidon's table?"

"Where else?"

"You gonna let me sit with you?" She playfully poked his arm.

"Well, like you said, we're not campers," he shrugged and smiled. "I don't suppose I can stop you."