The next few days passed in a blur.
After a week where every move and action had been desperately important, having a few days filled with nothing at all was strange, almost anxiety inducing. Annabeth wanted to keep herself busy, but nobody would let her. Everyone insisted that she needed to rest, which felt silly to her considering she had spent two days fully unconscious, but nobody wanted to listen to her argue that.
Jason, and now that Annabeth was awake, Piper, spent most of their days in the city, working with the local politicians to straighten out the last few issues their quest had left them with— namely trying to restore Jason's position as governor, but also dealing with the widespread web of tunnels under the city that had been housing a Titan-worshipping cult. Leo ended up going with them most days, having the most experience with the structural integrity of the whole thing after Hazel had gone.
Annabeth wasn't allowed to go with them. Mostly because nobody trusted Octavian to be within a mile radius of her, but also because attending meetings apparently did not count as "resting" or "relaxing." In any other circumstance, Annabeth might've been annoyed or offended, but now she was secretly a little relieved.
She still loved Piper and Jason, still cared about both of them deeply, but after everything she'd been through and everything she'd discovered— about herself, about her mother, about her past and her roots— she found that the idea of working with the officials of Rome, especially the officials occupying her mother's patron city, felt wrong. Even if the intentions were good, and the work necessary, she got a churning feeling in her stomach everytime she thought of it too much.
That was Annabeth's first real sign that she wasn't going back with them. She pushed it away.
That meant that she mostly spent her days lounging around the grounds of the house they'd been loaned. Annabeth wasn't paying much attention when they'd explained how they'd gotten use of it— something about a city dignitary being Jason's old friend, and the place being used to house diplomats when they came through the city. Apparently not many people knew where it was, which made it an ideal spot to stay while the last few logistics were straightened out.
Fai and Hazel had left the day after Annabeth had woken up. It had been bittersweet saying goodbye, but Annabeth was comforted by the fact that they both looked happy together. Annabeth didn't miss the fact that they had started holding hands, nor the nervous little looks they shot each other when they thought nobody was looking.
They were going over land, taking Hazel's horse Arion— who apparently had had no trouble finding her, even hundreds of miles away. They promised to look over Blackjack too. Annabeth had almost forgotten that Perseus had instructed the horse to flee to Hazel's little house. Although Perseus seemed confident that he'd been fine this whole time ("resourceful" was the exact word he used, though Annabeth thought that might be a little generous for a horse), Blackjack apparently enjoyed human company. Hazel was only too pleased to add another pet to her collection, so it worked out in the end.
That was Annabeth's second real sign that she wasn't going back. She ignored it in favor of thoughtless hours spent alone with Perseus.
The grounds of the house were beautiful. Half overlooking the sea, half overlooking the city, it was the perfect combination of views, and Annabeth truly could have stared at both all day. Instead she spent a lot of time alone in her room.
Well. Alone with Perseus, anyways.
Annabeth wasn't sure that time could necessarily be called resting. Relaxing, an argument could be made, but resting… not so much. Still, she wasn't complaining. She was actually doing the opposite of complaining, if you wanted to get technical about it.
Annabeth had almost been worried that their first times together would never be topped, given how much the tension had built beforehand, and how freeing the contact had finally felt. She could not have been more wrong. She wouldn't trade her first experiences with him for the world, but there was something to be said for practically unlimited time, a bed actually made for two adults, being on land instead of a ship, and the ever-growing love and familiarity they were building with each other.
It was really impressive that they spent any time with their hands off each other, all things considered. But they did, mostly at night when everyone was back at the house, and asleep. That's when they spent the most time outside, watching the summer stars pass by, talking about anything and everything, important things and ridiculous ones. He told her about his family, about his home, about his travels, before Apollo had called him to their quest. Annabeth found her pursuit to know everything about him was going well— as was fulfilling her promise to tell her everything she knew about their shared heritage.
Those long nights that ended with her mouth dry from talking, belly sore from laughing, where he carried her back to their room, half because he could, half because she really was tired— those were Annabeth's third sign that she wasn't going back, and at this point they were getting too difficult to ignore.
So she didn't anymore.
It was the fifth night since she'd woken, and they were lying on the grassy hill, hands intertwined under freezing stars. Her path was not so laid out as those heroes in their constellations; hers was filled with choices and possibilities and the promise of something new, something real. A future of her own design, if she chose to make it.
And maybe some part of this was fate, and maybe it always would've turned out like this, in the end. Maybe their souls were the same, like Piper had said. Maybe their love was as predestined as those stars' paths through the sky. But some part of this was just him and her, choosing to love each other.
And now she was making another choice, one that felt equally paradoxical; inevitable and self-determined all at once.
"I want to go home with you," Annabeth said, tearing her eyes away from the sky to look at his face.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
If she hadn't been before, the hope in his eyes would have sealed it for her anyways.
"I'm sure," she said.
His smile was brighter than every star in the sky combined.
Telling Piper and Jason was more difficult, but even they seemed to already know, somehow. There were plenty of reasons for her to leave, but she picked the most obvious as her excuse— Octavian was essentially holding a sword over her head, and by extension, Piper and Jason's. It only made sense to leave, to go somewhere where he couldn't possibly touch her.
"We can protect you from Octavian," Jason insisted.
Annabeth knew he was still more upset than he was letting on about their previous conversation. He hadn't been able to protect her before, and now that there was a second chance, he clearly didn't want to squander it. It made Annabeth's heart ache, but she stood firm anyways.
She could feel Piper's eyes on her as they went back and forth, saying nothing of real substance. Finally, Piper put a hand on Jason's own, quieting his words as surely as if she had covered his mouth.
"It's not just about Octavian, is it?" Piper asked. Her eyes looked grey today, intelligent and sorrowful as a stormcloud.
"No," Annabeth admitted.
And it wasn't. Even if it was under Jason's stead, Annabeth didn't want to lend her mind to Rome and its officials anymore. It was a small, probably useless gesture, but she held onto it anyway. Her mother had said she would know what to do, and this felt right to Annabeth, as insignificant as it was. Athena's other piece of advice bounced around her mind constantly as well.
Sometimes the best form of revenge is simply to live.
It was strange, really, how much her life was governed by conversations with her mother, despite only having met her twice.
Even with her certainty, Annabeth knew it wouldn't be easy to actually leave— and she was proven right on the day the winds were finally good enough for them to go.
It was just her and Perseus, Leo having decided to stay back with Jason and Piper. Strangely enough, the trio seemed to get along well, despite their contrasting personalities. He'd already said goodbye at the house, having been needed in the city early. Jason and Piper had skipped out on whatever duties they had that day to see Annabeth off.
She hugged them both, fully cognizant of the fact that it might be the last time she would ever have the chance. They'd said more complicated goodbyes the night before, but now that the moment was upon them, none of them seemed quite capable of letting go.
"We'll see each other again," Piper swore, clutching Annabeth tightly, "I'm sure of it."
Annabeth had been doing fairly well at keeping herself together, but that sent the tears spilling over. Pulling away from her was one of the most difficult things Annabeth had to do.
"I would never bet against you," she said, smiling even as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," Jason said, pulling Annabeth into an embrace. He was crying too, but better at hiding it than Piper and Annabeth.
"I know I will," Annabeth whispered.
He let go, and Annabeth was free.
She climbed the gangplank alone, meeting Perseus on the deck of the ship. He smiled as she approached, bittersweet and hopeful all at once.
"Are you ready?" he asked, reaching out his hand to her.
Annabeth nodded, taking it in her own.
"Let's go home."