A/N: I own nothing. Enjoy!

Also trigger warning in the later portion, just in case. Sorry for the language :/

Annabeth lay on her stomach, utterly spent. She felt more tired than after a three hour sparring session with Luke and Thalia. Still, she felt quite smug like a cat purring after its nightly bowl of warm milk and cream.

A whimper escaped her when she felt Percy's fingers dance up her back, sending tingles up on her spine. Those fingers had been in places she didn't know existed as centers of heated desire.

"Don't worry, I'm not asking for another round." Percy promised as she whined. "How are you feeling?"

She pushed herself to flip over, groaning at her sore muscles. "Good. Too good." She drawled lazily. "I might never let you out of this bed, you know."

Percy laughed out loud, snuggling close to her. "That should be my line, you know. I'm glad you're feeling content."

"Oh, much more than just content, believe me." Annabeth stifled a yawn threatening to rip itself into existence, curling herself into his bare chest. "But now I'm sleepy."

Percy kissed her forehead and tucked them both under the warm covers. "Sleep it is. Good night, my love," he whispered.

His last words were spoken softly, that she wasn't exactly sure what he had call her. The gears turned and turned in her mind, futile in trying to work out what he said. But then sleep overtook her underneath its tides, carrying her softly in its waves of dreamless slumber.

Annabeth woke hours later, her sore lower torso and thighs blatant reminders of what transpired the night before. She didn't have to move her head far to see Percy asleep beside her, one arm loosely cradling her to his body. The covers had fallen off of him just a bit, exposing the magnificent chest she had had the chance to feel last night.

She smirked at the little puddle of drool at the corner of his lips. Cute. And only she could catch such a glimpse of his cute side.

His dark eyelashes were quite long, framing his eyes. Smooth skin all around his nose and covering his cheeks, smoother than what she expected. Most soldiers had scars, but Percy had none on his face. There were just a few battle scars on his back, those that she thoroughly enjoyed discovering. She poked his aristocratic nose just to marvel at its curves. What had she done in her past life for her good fortune in having such a handsome husband, save the Olympian Kingdom?

Annabeth would have been happy to gaze at Percy just a little longer, but he began to stir after her awakening. Remnants of battle-hardened nerves, she reckoned.

"Morning," he mumbled. "Are you an angel?"

"No, Seaweed Brain, I'm your wife."

"I see no difference between angel and wife." Percy turned and pulled her tight to his body. "Did you sleep well?"

"Absolutely. How about you?"

Without opening his eyes, he kissed her slow and methodically. Annabeth never knew morning kisses could be so tantalizing or addicting. She could get used to this. "Never better. Not too sore, I hope?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "I'm not a porcelain doll that's easily broken, you know."

"Good, because I hope your stamina's recovered."

With a wicked grin, Percy threw the covers over their heads once more. Within seconds, Annabeth affirmed she really could get used to this.

For the next few days, Annabeth and the servants in Percy's mansion became acquainted. The servants found their new mistress to be kind and intelligent, if a bit eccentric. When household and political duties were settled, the Earl and the new Countess often went horseback riding into town, or sometimes engaged in sword-fight duels, or other activities usually not befitting their station. It nearly upset the poor butler who was used to strict propriety from his previous masters to consume several anxiety reducing possets.

But one thing was clear to the servants, the Earl and the Countess had an unique and strong relationship. The servants served Annabeth without question, as one who had her husband's favor held power over all the household. That relationship was only deepened by the Earl and Countess sharing one bed chamber, with the chamber initially prepared for the Mistress left empty to serve as a guest chamber only.

All in all, the Earl's household was quite fond of the new addition to the Earl's family. Coins soon exchanged hands for when the first child was to be born and whether the child would be male or female.

Such rumors spread quickly from household to household. High society was beginning to see more and more couples being married not for power or money, but for genuine companionship and love.

But not every household was fond of such gossip.

Warning: Abuse mentioned.

Baron Rodrick threw the porcelain vase onto the ground. His third wife, Lucia, and Lacy cowered in the corner. They were not unused to Rodrick's fits of rage but it unnerved them every time just the same.

Usually seeing his women in fear would give Rodrick the satisfaction and power he craved. But not today. He'd felt utterly humiliated the past few weeks.

First there was that whore Annabeth who had defeated him in battle. What kind of insane female who wasn't a solider learned sword-fighting?

And then there were the rumors whizzing around that he had lost his bridal candidate to the Earl. Rodrick gnashed his teeth and threw another gem-encrusted vase, this time at a mirror until both shattered into dangerously sharp shards.

Now, his business partners were shunning him as well. His new venture was going to be into sea mines, but he was sure that bastard Earl had had a hand in stopping all communication between his partners. The Earl practically controlled the most lucrative ocean formed jewel trade between the Atlantis Empire and the Olympian Kingdom.

Oh, yes, he was going to have them pay. Both that whore and that bastard. They suited each other perfectly. But how was he going to punish them?

"Get up," Rodrick snarled to his third wife.

She obeyed, her legs quivering. Still, she tried to put her body between him and Lacy. What a useless pair. The sight of them both infuriated him.

Women like them were only good for one thing.

"Get out," he screamed at his daughter.

Lacy's worried eyes drifted to her mother.

"Now!" The baron screamed.

Lacy scrammed, like the little rat she was.

Lucia's brown eyes were fearful, unknowing of what was going to happen next. Oh, yes, if only that blonde arrogant slut was in Lucia's place, knees on the ground, eyes begging for mercy.

Lucia screamed as a hand slammed into her cheek. The baron was hitting harder than usual, but he didn't care. He would just forbade Lucia from exiting the mansion until her bruises healed, just like always. One pudgy hand grabbed Lucia's hair, hauling her up before slapping her again.

Yes, this was what always took the edge of his anger off. He would have Annabeth Chase bloodied and bound before him. What would the Earl's reaction be if he sent Annabeth back to him, used and dirtied? How would the baron love to see the expression on that monster.

His eyes fell on the shards from the mirror and the vase. Indeed, what if he carved a few memorable patterns on that slut's body? Something to mark damaged goods when the baron was done with the Chase woman. And once a woman was damaged, the Earl would no longer want her. Oh yes, Baron Rodrick would guarantee that he would be avenged.

Hidden in the dark hallways with tears streaming down her face, Lacy stuck her fist in her mouth to prevent the cries from coming out. Her father was behaving more like a tyrant than usual.

Something had to be done. But what?

A/N: Welp that went dark 0 to 100 real quick. Who predicted Baron Rodrick to take revenge, raise your hand.

But for those who have actually experienced domestic abuse or are experiencing it, know that you are not alone, and there are many who are willing to help. Whatever your partner says or does is not your fault.

The end is nigh, but not too soon, my lovelies. As always, hope you've enjoyed my story so far, Happy New Year's and see you next chapter.