a percabeth royalty au.
The first time Percy has his first ball thrown, he's fifteen.
Young and naive. That's what he was. He had just scoffed and rolled his eyes at the royal advisors, because why would he, so early, need to find a possible suitor this soon?
"Its a friendly gathering with our neighboring kingdoms, sir," The shrimpy man had explained. "The purpose is to get a feel on what future balls could look like."
"And... If I refuse?"
He shakes his head, glasses tilting atop his crooked nose. "Im afraid the king and queen wouldn't allow it, sir. It's for your best."
It's for your best.
Was it really?
Was it for Percy's best when a he had sat for the majority of the gathering? Was it for his best when he clearly was uncomfortable? Or maybe when he had to leave early by sneaking away in the lavatories?
He didn't think such.
The next time (and hopefully last) time Percy has a ball thrown, he's sixteen.
Okay, he's not so young anymore. At least that's what the other noblewomen say when they sign their own to partake in the ball.
"Oh my, Perseus has grown into a handsome young man!" They had always said. "Shouldn't he start looking for a suitor? My daughter would be more than willing, you know!"
So that's why he's here, looking as dull as the grey sky as he sips on some fancy concoction. Its funny, really, Percy should be happy.
He should be happy and thankful that his kind parents arrange him these gatherings, putting up with his scowls and frowns. He should be happy when the other Princes don't get nearly as much attention as he does.
"May I have this dance?" Someone; Percy can't even remember at that point, asks with a hand out. The question almost comes out as expectantly.
Well, the drink isn't getting any less bitter, and Percy hasn't danced since he took a break from his lessons two months ago.
He takes the hand gingerly.
A cheer rings out when he takes it, short and filled with excitement. Hope, even. Isn't that a shame. This dance means absolutely nothing to him, and Percy definitely knows that. What he hoped, however, is that everyone else does too.
Hands reach out to grasp his shoulders, tight and firm. He can only manage a stiff hand to reach on the other girl's shoulder, his right hand finding itself on her lower back.
The ruffles of her dress brush over his shoes as they whirl through the dance floor. Percy's sure that his parents are watching as he dances with the unameable girl. She's the first one he's danced with out of the two ball's thrown- and the first ask, too. He guessed the other guests just expected for him to ask.
Percy might not seem like the type to like dances; and he usually isn't, but the feeling of waltzing down with someone just feels soothing. But with this girl, and this audience, it doesn't feel all that natural.
Maybe, the girl can feel it too, because when the song finishes she's never to be seen again.
What's so hard about all this is that the participants aren't looking for his wealth, or status. They just want to find someone, somewhere, just like him. They all seek someone who can truly love them for who they truly are. They cannot find that in Percy. Not now, and not ever.
He wished they could find that in him.
But, gosh, this would be so much easier if they weren't like him.
Unfortunately the second ball isn't the last.
He's seventeen now, a prime age for searching for suitors. He knows that, his parents know that, and the kingdom knows. His eighteenth birthday will only be in two weeks, and cruel reminder that time is limited.
"Percy, dear, I know that this isn't what you want to do." Sally comes into the training grounds as he finishes up shredding the practice dummy. Her voice laces with sympathy. "But this is for your best."
There it is again; 'For your best'.
"So please," Sally adds with a shake of the head. "You need to find someone. I know this must be hard for you."
"Uh huh." Percy grunts.
"It's just... The kingdom needs you. They rely on you. We do, too. I know you can find someone who you will love genuinely. If not for the kingdom..."
Then do it for yourself.
The lines between true love and what's forced starts to blur. Forced dances, words, smiles. Sure, the guests might be all smiles then, but when the ball's over Percy can sometimes hear the dissapointed whispers coming from them. Its almost too much for him.
So he runs.
He runs out of the castle and out in the town, where he doesn't stop until he reaches the market. Because he just can't stand another minute in that stuffy castle. Because if he wants to find someone, throwing gala's and balls isn't the way he wants to do it. Sally tried. She really did, but, Percy didn't want or need it.
People must not recognize him because if they did, they'd be swarming him like fish to a worm. The worn clothing and messy hair must be more than enough to disguise him.
But... What was he here for, anyways?
People bump into him, brushing his shoulders and nearly knocking him down. It's mid-afternoon; so it's pretty busy for that time of day. Especially for that time of day.
Shops line the sides of the street. People stop and look at all the variety of items. They all flow through the streets in one fluid motion, acting like a well oiled machine.
When was the last time Percy's been here?
Excitement- a feeling he hasn't felt in forever- takes over his senses. His pockets feel much heavier now, a reminder that he has money in there. Money, something that can buy things. He grins.
Tarts, strudels, cake, baked goods... They all start to pile up in both the paper bag Percy's carrying, and in his stomach. Street food is completely different than gourmet food in the castle. It's so... Delicious. So much more savoury than the plain food he's been eating that comes in such little portions. Percy stops to stare at little trinkets at the little stands. Who would care if he bought a little something in the little time?
But you know what's better?
Nobody knows him here. They all pass him like some other commoner, and maybe he is. The absolute freedom is overwhelming when you don't have some prestigious title held over your head. If this was what a 'normal' life was like, then you could sign Percy up right away.
A fountain in the middle of the square oh so poised, white marble holding both water and gold drachma as people pass and throw a coin in.
Call Percy childish, but he throws one in with a wish with them.
Please help me find someone who will love me as much as I love them.
Yes, it's immature and pathetic. He knows that. But Percy will need all the help he can get, so why not get a wishing fountain to help out?
He doesn't know just how much it can help. Not quiet yet, anyways.
By the time the orange sun dips beneath the rolling hills, Percy's legs feel like putty.
In other words: if he has to walk a whole thirty minutes to the castle, then he's sleeping on a bench for the night.
But Percy can't go home now; not when his parents are waiting, and not when the Royal servants are ready to pamper him like a baby again. And definitely not when he's not prepared to see anyone again.
So the question is- where can he go right now?
Maybe the garden that's in Percy's peripheral vision can be a nice spot to relax.
The trees sway along with the light breeze, leaves occasionally falling to the green grass below. A pond reflects the moonlight in a way that leaves the water crystalline. Unlike the bustling crowds in the marketplace, this place is much more calm.
When Percy looks up ahead, there's an arch that reaches high above him. Maybe just about overlooking the rest of the garden. Vines circle around it, green and thick. Almost like a ladder.
Now that seems like a nice spot. And who's stopping him from getting there, anyways?
He nearly falls on his back climbing up the vines, but he gets up there in a matter of seconds. Years of building up some muscle can pay off, turns out.
The view is breathtaking.
The stars shine ever so dimly up there, and if Percy squints, he can see the hunter constellation Orion. Its so breaking in fact; that Percy finds himself leaning forward, forward, forward, reeling to get a closer look.
"You know, if you keep leaning forward you'll fall." A voice blandly calls out.
"Wha-" He turns around to meet someone a few feet right of him. Was someone there before him? "What?"
"I said you're sure to fall if you keep leaning forward." The person says again. This time Percy can note a hint if exasperation in the tone.
And- who's talking, anyways? The moonlight doesn't reach the person's face, and the dark isn't quite helpful.
"I- I'm aware of that." He shoots back, slightly irritated. "...Were you always there?" He adds short after.
"Aren't you the observant one?" Percy can practically feel the eye roll. "But yes. You just so happened to interrupt my reading."
When the moon angles itself to shine on the person's face, he starts to think that this view is more breathtaking.
Grey eyes stare back at him, a few strands of blonde hair covering them. The rest of the curly locks rest on her shoulders, glowing in the light. She's maybe his age.
And Percy's such an idiot, because all he can manage is "Why're you reading in the dark?"
She laughs after a second of quietness. "And what about it?"
"Well," He stammers. "Isn't it hard to read in the dark? And why not just read during the day?"
"For your information, this is the only time I can read without interruption. This place isn't all that bad either."
"Ah."
"And why might you be up here?"
"No reason!" Percy sits up straight, like a chill just ran down his spine. Well, it feels like that. "I just... wanted to relax, that's all!" Thats not all a lie.
The moonlight shifts to him, and she sucks in a breath.
"What?" He asks, "Are you entranced by my absolute hotness or something?" A grin creeps up his face.
"N-No. Its nothing." An owl hoots somewhere in the mess of trees, adding some noise to the awkward silence.
Her stomach grumbles.
"Are you perhaps... hungry?" Percy looks at her, eyes flicking towards the book in her hands.
"Maybe."
More silence.
"Here," He grabs one of the remaining tarts in the brown bag beside him, pushing it towards her. She stares at it for a moment.
"Really?" Percy nods, looking away absent mindedly. "Thank you."
"Whatever."
The rest of the time remaining is spent on a more comftorable silence spent together. He isn't sure when they depart, but some time in the middle of the night, Percy decides that the high arch won't do as a bed.
"See you never, I guess." Annabeth says as she starts in the other direction.
.
.
.
His parents await him with stern faces and words of dissapointment when he returns to the all too familiar castle. Where have you been? and: Why did you return much too late? is all Percy can hear as he sighs, heading to his own quarters. The Royal servants can't even question on his choice of wardrobe before he's gone into the safety in his own privacy.
It soon comes to mind that Percy enjoyed the unamed girls company.
It's too bad, though; he probably won't ever get to see her again.
That's what he had though before.
For the thrill of it, Percy decides to go back to the arch one last time. Because he found comfort in the area, with the cherry blossom trees and cool breeze.
And the girl is there, again.
'One last time'. That saying is long gone, because then Percy's visiting more, more, and more. Because Percy continues to share baked goods with her on long nights while they talk.
Those nights spent in disguise as a bakers son seem to work, because Annabeth doesn't question on how he can afford so much strawberry tarts, or chocolate cake slices. What she doesn't know is that Percy spends nearly all of his money buying them.
Because he's started to learn more about the girl, like that she's his age and likes to read books about architecture. Like how she used to catch cicadas when she was a kid but let them go because she felt bad. Her name is Annabeth Chase.
And she's one of a kind.
The nights are less lonlier, the days seem to shine more brighter.
Percy's more happier now. And it's all because of her.
More nights spent out, as the Baker's boy. His parents get worried. He tells them he's out training. The royal workers question him, pestering Percy on why his wardrobe consists of commoner clothing. He brushes it off as a new taste in fashion.
"Your eighteenth birthday is coming up, dear," Sally brings up at dinner one day. Percy drops his fork, stabbed into a price of mild meat.
"Hm? Oh, yeah."
"What would you like?" Poseidon- the King and his father- speaks up. "Perhaps you would like a day out in the kingdom's stables? Or maybe the Royal Orchestra to arrange a concerto in the Opera house?"
Yeah, right. Like I would even stay awake for any of that.
"Theres not much that I would like," Percy shifts in his seat. "So anything is fine."
"Maybe a gala would be fitting for the occasion, your graces." The Royal advisor piped up from his spot from the other side of the room.
"A gala! Perfect!" Sally beams, clapping her hands together.
"Ha ha..." Pure dread settles in his stomach as he lets out a defeated laugh.
"Fantastic."
And so it's settled.
In a matter of days, the news of the gala is spread throughout all the neighbouring kingdoms. People talk about it like the news of some ruler giving away their fortune. Royal servants, designers, and maids work together in a flurry of gala preparations.
Percy isn't sure why he feels so dreadful. He should be more greatful- greatful that people are working so hard just for him.
"I just really wish they wouldn't." He rambles onto Annabeth the next night. Their legs dangle off the jagged stone edge of the arc. "I don't even want this. It's so stupid! Just let me live in peace, gods, it's like they don't even care."
"Yeah, I get that on a whole other level."
"I just hate my role. And my duties, too." Percy finishes his story on how he's appointed to 'run the family bakery'; which is his royal problems disguised in a more local one.
He can't tell her that he's the prince. He can't tell her when their solid friendship is on the line. Not when Annabeth could decide to leave him one day, or even stop visiting.
Now he wouldn't want that.
The two munch on another snack. This time Percy has brought some chocolate cake, because he always found comfort in eating sweet foods. A comfort that's close to what Annabeth radiates.
Eating baked goods, talking about problems, and sharing stupid jokes is what Percy loves most about nightime.
Especially if those nights are spent with Annabeth.
He wonders if she would look just as good in the daylight than she did at night.
Great, he's come full circle. Back to his very first ball thrown.
Well, gala, actually.
Percy sits stop his plush throne that overlooks the Grand ballroom. People come up to him and wish him a happy birthday here and there, wearing extravagant clothing and much too bright smiles. Heck, someone even came up to him wearing this barf coloured hat that stretched a meter or two wide.
Percy had to stiffle a light when that happened, but it came out as an embarrassing snort/chortle that raised a few eyebrows.
But you know what all those greetings had in common?
"I'm sure you must be looking for someone to rule your side, your grace."
"So, when are you going to settle on someone to marry?"
"A handsome young man like you must be looking for a sucsessor by now!"
Yeah. That.
People dance with him with such passion that it makes Percy look bad. Thier gracefulness, swiftness as they dance across the floor, the delicate hands that grip his shoulders. It's all so foreign to him. And yet, Percy's been doing it for most of his life.
It's shameful. It's shameful that he thinks of a certain blonde in his arms instead of the person he's dancing with. He can only imagine her being there- another one of his childish fantasies.
He sees the bubbly looks people give him when they think he's not looking. The looks that are full of want when they look at him.
Yep, he's definitely come full circle, when he excuses himself to go the the lavatories.
Or in this case: The royal gardens.
The Royal gardens are nothing like the one Percy visits every night. They all lack something that only the other one can have.
Consolation.
Old grape vines circle the stone pedestals, hanging highly above him. Cicadas buzz quietly in the rose bushes as he walks, setting the soundtrack for the majority of the night.
It might not be the same, but Percy can find the same solace in the quietness.
"When am I ever going to find someone..." He grumbles as he sits down on the bench, hands covering his face. "Fuck."
"I think that's the first time I've ever heard you swear," A voice snickers.
A familiar voice.
"Annabe-" Percy's quick to correct himself. "I mean! Uh. I'm afraid you're mistaken, miss."
Annabeth Chase, In all her glory, smirks and few feet away from him. "Oh, Am I now?" the smirk tugging at her lips curl upwards in a way that makes him think that she knows something he doesn't.
"Yes, I believe so."
"I think you're lying to me." she steps forward, eyes glinting with a certain familiarity. "A happy birthday to you, baker's boy."
She...
She knows?
"Yup," Annabeth answers his question. (Which he didn't realize that he said it aloud, but that's fine now he's gotten that out of the way.)
"...And you decided..." Percy reels for a straight answer. "And you decided not to tell me?"
"Well, I noticed that first time I got a full glimpse of you. I just thought you were dressing up as someone, so I just wondered what you were doing." She tilts her head. "But it looks like I've confirmed it now, your majesty."
Yeah, she knows. And she's singlehandedly put me into cardiac arrest.
"How embarrasing." Percy can barely meet her eyes without the expense of blushing. "H-How are you here, anyways?"
"I think I forgot to tell you that I'm the general's daughter."
"Yeah, 'forgot' is a understatement, Annabeth!"
"Oh whoops, my bad." She laughs again, this time taking a spot beside Percy on the bench. "I'll be sure to tell you next time." There won't be a next time, idiot!
He grimaces. "I'm pushing you in the pond when we go back to that garden."
"ooh, scary."
A cricket jumps past them. Almost comically, considering the silence between the two.
"So," Percy awkwardly speaks up. "Do you come here often?"
'Do you come here often'? What kind of question is that!? Of course she doesn't, because we're in the Royal gardens? does she think I'm weird now? Or does she-
"Nope," She rolls her eyes jokingly. "You?"
"U-uh, not really." he lets out a sigh of relief.
When Annabeth was invited to Prince Percy's gala, she frowned.
Why would she, someone who has no interest in galas, ever be invited to one? They usually just invited snobby rich people with too much money on their hands.
And to be more specific: If she wanted to dance with the prince, she could just meet him at that garden the next night.
But this was Percy. So she could attend one measly gala.
Annabeth watched as Percy exited the ball room. A scowl on his face and all.
She also saw him sit pretty on his throne for the majority of the gala, sipping on some foreign blue drink. Not to mention the massive amount of people that came up to him. Nobles, other royals,
It was weird- weird seeing him without those scrappy clothing and moonlight illuminating his features.
But Annabeth would be lying if she said that he looked any worse.
In fact, she thinks he looks even more handsome in the ballroom's light.
Other people surely notice that, too, because she doesn't miss the lustful gazes of them as he walks by to greet some Grand duke. For a reason she can't comprehend that makes her... a little jealous.
No. That's not like her.
Annabeth can settle on the term on edge for now.
But how can she not be? Percy and his condescending smirk, lame jokes and messy black hair.
Maybe, just maybe, she wonders if anyone else knows that side of him.
She can't just watch as he exits, right?
So Annabeth follows him. Follows, because he can't be up to any good. Because Percy seriously can't be ditching his own party, can he?
"Well, I can officially say that this is the lamest party I've ever been too." She snickers at the boy besdie her.
"Hey!" Percy protests, frowning. "This party is not lame. It's not even a party, for one."
"Fine. You ditched you own gala, so it can't be all that fun." Annabeth reminds.
"You've got a point."
The music playing ever so softly in the background changes. It's a more happier rapid and lively in the dark sky.
"This isn't getting any more funner."
"You got that right."
"And I'm pretty bored, if you ask me."
"Yup."
"And I just so happen to have a solution." Percy gets up, coming to stand in front of Annabeth.
"Hm?" Her eyes narrow.
He reaches a hand out bashfully. "So what do you say? May I have this dance, miss Chase?"
At that very moment, Annabeth's heart stops beating.
She takes his hand with no qualms.
"Of course, your higness." She says, grinning like a lovestruck idiot.
The grass tickled thier ankles as they away through the garden, stars glimmering above Ike showcase lights upon them. Annabeth can only blush as his hands find themselves on her hips as her own place themselves on his shoulders.
She can proudly say that she's never been a dancer. But with Percy? Annabeth feels like she could dance all night.
The music can only get louder as they dance, the guests inside unknowing of the two outside.
Would it be weird to say that Percy feels more at ease with Annabeth? No amount of dancing instructors or dance partners feel as natural as she does.
Gosh, this is just as amazing as he fantasized about.
Those daydreams and longing thoughts of being in her company wasn't for not, because here Annabeth was, waltzing along with him. The setting. The lighting. The air. It all seemed like some sort of fever dream.
The lines of what's forced love and what's love seemed to blur at one point, but Percy definitely knows that this isn't forced.
But is this what love is like?
For him, yes.
Love to him is your heart beating faster than you've ever thought possible. Love is dancing with a red face and clammy palms. Love makes him feel all mushy inside, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Love is Annabeth Chase, and she's dancing with him.
Percy's a fool, such a love struck fool for her. And a even bigger fool when he asks: "Would you slap me if I kissed you right now?"
"W-What?"
Annabeth meets his eyes, and blush spreading like wildfire across her face. Did he just say what I think he said?
Damn it, it must be too late to take it back now! She's going to slap me any second now, too! "S-sorry, that was uncalled f-" He can't finish, because Annabeth beats him to it.
Clamping a hand over his eyes, she presses her lips to his in a heated kiss.
And Percy thinks that he might have just died a liitle.
Holy shit, her lips are so soft against his, its sure to drive him crazy. He can't see anything, but he can feel it. The way her grip tightens, the way her lips seem to fit perfectly against his, and how Annabeth smiles in the midst of it all.
He comes to the conclusion that its simply addictive.
"You're so lame," Annabeth giggles as she pulls away from the kiss.
"Yeah, I know." Percy rolls his eyes at that. But before Annabeth can make some idiotic retort, its his turn to render her speechless with his own kiss.
Yes, love to him is Annabeth Chase, and she's kissing him under the stars.
BONUS::
"Oh, would you look at that!" Sally beamed, peering out the window. "Percy's kissing someone! Somebody get the camera!"
The guests scrambled to look through the wide windows, tinted with colors of blue amd green. Someone gasped a little too loudly at the sight from mere surprise.
"Hey! That's my daughter!"
I can't write up a chapter, but instead have this 4.4k percabeth royalty fic! (okay I'm sorry im working on it now ADSHFGJHSHK)
but i feel like ive just plagiarized something o_O