A/N: I own the plot. Enjoy!
It was common knowledge that the mysterious woods that bordered the northern lands of Olympia were haunted by strange creatures. When the moon was bright and full, the night air would be pierced by the howls of wolves, yet none were ever seen during the day. When the fog was dense, fairy lights would enchant villagers into the murky mist, forever to be lost. There were even whispers that beautiful fae would lure villagers into their traps, before feasting on the human flesh and blood for immortal beauty.
For these reasons, many prisoners or criminals who were fortunate enough to escape capital punishment were banished here. Those who wanted to run away from whatever sadness or abuse that afflicted their lives found their way to the woods as well.
The brave who ventured into the woods during the day quickly became skilled hunters, or at least those who survived the supposed beasts and fae attacks did. Others learned which plants were poisonous or were miraculous healing herbs, though many died from testing such plants. As the years passed, the village of Brookshire arose from the edges of the haunted woods as its residents eked out a meager living in the harsh winters and brief moments of summer warmth.
Despite the villagers' dark origins and pasts, Brookshire was a generally peaceful village. People kept their own businesses to themselves. Their pasts were left behind and survival was at the forefront of their minds.
There was only one rule in Brookshire: Don't go into the woods at night.
Not a single human who had ever gone into the woods made of oaks and pine trees had come out alive. In the daytime, the dusty paths in the woods were clear while cheerful violets and lilies grew in meadows along bubbling streams. But when the cloak of darkness descended, the trails in the woods were hard to see as nocturnal creatures began their hunt.
This was the village where Annabeth grew up. Her father, a scholar once in the Royal Academy, had been banished here after he had exposed corruption in the upper professorship circles. Unfortunately, the corruption her father had exposed was linked to a prominent Duke's son who had relied on bribery to get through the Academy. Mr. Frederick Chase was used as a scapegoat and sent to Brookshire in exile with his nine-year old young daughter.
Coming from a family of scholars who had never learned how to farm or hunt, being sent to live in such harsh terrain was akin to a death sentence for the Chases. Mrs. Chase had passed away a long time ago, leaving Frederick to fend for himself and his young daughter of ten. As Frederick stared at the residents of Brookshire, he hid young Annabeth behind him, wary of the wolf-like stares of the other villagers.
Although gender-constrained relationships were free from the eyes of society, there were still many more men than women in this village. Some still preferred the companionship of the opposite gender. All the women in the village were adults and were already engaged or married. Those of criminals and low morals were already eyeing the newest member of the village, waiting for the girl to grow up to a suitable age. But the worst were those few who did not care about the ethics of age.
Frederick kept a watchful eye on his daughter as he tried to adjust to the village life. The family's meager living was made from teaching others how to read or doing the accounting for taxes for Brookshire's mayor. When searching the woods for herbs, Frederick had Annabeth stay near him as they gathered herbs and wild berries.
Annabeth soon grew accustomed to Brookshire. Though she missed the capital and her friends, she was not of a timid sort, learning how to use a slingshot and dagger to protect herself and hunt.
It was on one of these hunts that Annabeth met "him."
"Don't go too far!" Frederick warned as he worked to strip willow bark to make medicine.
"I won't!" Annabeth promised, patting the knife in her belt to make sure that it was there.
Brookshire had received more residents in the past few years with some young children around Annabeth's age of twelve. Frederick had become slightly more relaxed about letting his daughter run freely with her new friends.
Annabeth scampered in the woods that had now become much more familiar to her. There was a meadow of hidden blueberry bushes behind a thicket of thorns that she liked to frequent. One day, Annabeth decided, she would transplant some blueberry bushes into the garden so she didn't have to go so far into the woods.
But just as Annabeth was about to toss the first blueberry into her basket, she froze as her instincts startled. She was not alone in her secret meadow.
Lying half-hidden underneath a bush was a young boy, his breath labored and heavy. Annabeth quietly stalked forward and gasped. The boy lying before her was obviously hurt, his shirt shredded and the edges stained red with blood.
Annabeth was just about to run or scream for help when the boy suddenly lunged forward and pressed his hands against her mouth. For an injured person, he was quite strong as Annabeth tried to pry his hands off.
"Shush!" The boy hissed.
Annabeth froze as several pairs of voices were heard outside the bushes. She knew them well, with one belonging to the mayor's son, Luke Castellan. Annabeth had a secret crush on Luke, but she didn't like any of his friends. Whenever she and Luke were alone, Luke would treat her well with head pats and give her candy. When Luke was with his friends, he treated her as though she didn't exist or only smiled as his friends mocked her. She had even squabbled with them when they stole the rabbit that she had managed to hunt down with her slingshot. In the end, she had given the rabbit to Luke.
In a situation like this, Annabeth didn't want to talk to those rogues, even if there was an injured person as well. Soon the raucous voices quieted down.
By now, the boy was half-conscious again.
"Hey!" Annabeth tried to shake the strange boy awake. She had never seen him in the village before. "Are you okay?"
Obviously he was not, as the boy glared at her and swatted her hand away. He had the prettiest green eyes Annabeth had ever seen. But that was a mere fleeting thought as Annabeth caught a glimpse of his injury. It looked like he had been bitten by some large creature.
"Let me see if I can get some help."
Annabeth turned away but her wrist was gripped firmly.
"No," the boy growled.
"But you're hurt!" She protested. She had never seen so much blood except for the one time some drunk bar patrons had been in a fight. Frederick had forbidden her from being in town at night after that.
"What does it matter to you? Leave me alone." The boy was firm.
Annabeth scowled. The boy was downright rude, but it was clear that he would die if she left him alone. Disregarding the boy's now quickly weakening protests, Annabeth pried open the remains of his shirt. Not only was the boy bitten, but there was a claw mark slashed into his skin.
Swallowing fear and nausea at the deep wound, Annabeth dug in her belt pouch for the medicine she always carried. It would help staunch any minor cuts she encountered in the woods, but it would be nowhere enough for the bleeding boy. She tried the best she could as the boy winced in pain as the dried herb powder stuck to his wounds.
Annabeth thought for a moment and then looked at her clothing. She tried to tear her cloak into shreds. Seeing her suffer, the boy grunted and easily tore her cloak into strips. With his half-hearted help, she managed to bandage his torso. But the blood was still seeping through the ripped cloth.
"Stay here. I'll go bring some help."
The boy glared at her and Annabeth felt a shiver run down her back instinctively. Now that he was no longer bleeding, every bit of Annabeth's instincts were telling her he was danger.
"No," he seethed. "Don't bring anyone."
"I-I won't tell anyone, I swear! I'll just bring back some bandages and medicine." Annabeth promised.
The boy didn't answer, just watching her with guarded eyes.
Finally, Annabeth turned and ran away. The boy didn't follow. By the time Annabeth was at the meadow again with proper bandages, the boy was gone. If it were not for a hollow in the flattened grass and a few discreet bloodstains, it was as if the boy had never existed.
A/N: I will still update Pampered by the Villainous Tyrant King this week. Just wanted to get this story started on the days I will not be able to update. This story will be like a collection of fairy tales set with various PJO characters, but um, much darker and smuttier. *winks
For funsies, throw out your guess as to which fairy/folk tale this story is! The first person to guess it correctly will be announced the following chapter after the correct guess, and the next updated chapter will have the story title revealed. Some will be much easier to guess than others.
As always, see you next chapter!
