As always, these characters do not belong to me.

Chapter Two


Annabeth spent the next week of her travels thinking about the two different men embroiled in her life. Luke was always on her mind and had been since she had met him five years ago. He had found her cowering in fear in the back alley of a street, a rusty steak knife her only source of protection. She remembered the way he had smiled at her, the soothing way he spoke and his promises. Never to feel afraid, never to be alone, to always have a home with him. He had kept those promises since the moment she had dropped the knife and taken his offering hand. He had stayed by her side until they reached home, even when she shook with silent tears or refused to speak.

Luke had been so gentle with her those first few months. She had grown accustomed to a daily routine, chafing a little at her 'light' duties. Sensing the grow in confidence, Luke accommodated, never in excess but enough for her to feel as though she was doing something substantial to thank him and his people for their generosity. After the first few months she wanted to do more and again, Luke obliged. Combat training began, and she never looked back. Five years later, she had made herself an Elite fighter, capable of despatching any opponent who stood in her path.

Five years of waiting, of ... dare she say it, pining, over the tall, blonde haired, blue eyed leader of the Elite. While she hadn't openly expressed her feelings to him, she had thought she had hinted it well enough, but Luke was driven, always striving forward to hit the next goal and often told those who asked that he wasn't interested in any romantic entanglements. Sure, he had lovers, but they were only to satisfy a base need. Luke respected her and her skillset not to ask her to be his lover. She was silently glad he never did because she wasn't sure whether she would've been able to decline it.

"I need you."

Luke had started their last conversation in that manner. Annabeth's heart had thundered in her chest, thinking that maybe she had finally convinced him of her affection, and he reciprocated it.

"I'm yours," she said, almost faint with anticipation but it quickly deflated with his next words.

"Since you've arrived, you have changed the dynamic of this group and I couldn't be prouder to have you at my side," he said with a smile. "I believe it's time we announce our power to the rest of the world, and you will be the emcee."

Annabeth had taken a second to compose her aching heart before turning business-like. "What is it you want me to do?"

Luke's smile widened. "There is an item of great power hidden in the northern region. It is said the one to wield it will be the one to rule the world."

"What is the item?"

"No one knows. It has been dubbed the Crystal and so far, none have been be able to discover it, but I have every faith that you will overcome any barrier to retrieve it?"

"Barrier?"

"You will face many obstacles and tests to prove your worthy of the Crystal," Luke explained, pulling out and unfurling a map of the world. "It's supposed to be around this area. Most of the area is flat but here," he pointed to a unplotted area. "There's a flat sheet of mountain wall. Supposedly, there's a crack in the mountain face and that's the only access point to the Crystal."

"Okay," Annabeth said with a nod. She thought about it for a moment, the map helping guide her journey. "Give me a couple of months."

"Confidence, I like it," said Luke, patting her gently on the shoulder. "And I need you to find an old friend of mine, Percy. He'll be able to help you."

"Percy?" Annabeth queried. "All due respect, Luke, I work better alone."

"Even so, Percy has experience regarding the Crystal, possibly the most out of anyone. His knowledge will be invaluable."

"Luke, I don't –."

"It's not up for discussion," Luke snapped. Taken aback, Annabeth fell silent. He had never spoken to her that way. "I need this Crystal and the only way I'm going to get it is if you and Percy work together." There was a moment's silence before Luke realised how he reacted. "Forgive me," he said quietly. "I just, I need this to work. A lot of the Elite have been … questioning things. It's been challenging trying to provide answers when they refuse to see what progress we have made."

"Who's this Percy?" Annabeth asked after a minute or two.

Luke smiled in thanks before giving Annabeth a brief rundown of Percy's description and movements that they had recorded, adding another month to her prediction to find him. It was only thinking back on their last conversation that Annabeth realised that Luke had never told her how exactly he knew Percy. After leaving the man in question in that dingy town, Annabeth deduced that the two didn't part on good terms and she wondered whether that was because of Percy's failure to grab the Crystal.

While Annabeth found Percy's demeanour irksome, she couldn't help but speculate whether his nature was due to his failures or whether it was just him in general. The haunted look in his eyes when she had brought up the Crystal and his warnings had given Annabeth pause over the following days but eventually, she had put it down to whatever repressed emotions he had for Luke. She was curious to know what had happened between them but was also quite happy never to see him again.

There was a main travelling road that wagons, highwaymen, bandits and families used to move from the South to the North. Annabeth, having had one too many bad experiences with that road, opted instead to use the back roads as much as she could, camping in sections of forest if she hadn't reached the next town. It was one of the downsides of travelling north; the sparseness between main towns. A week after leaving Percy, Annabeth was forced to take shelter in one of the smaller forests, the sliver of moon beginning its ascent into the night sky; and that's when she was attacked.

She was foolish. She had let her guard down. She had just finished her meagre meal and was settling down for the night when they pounced on her from behind. Her body froze with her initial surprise, giving them the chance to pin her arms. A shriek left her lips, which later she inwardly cringed at. They tried to restrain her legs as well, but her combat instincts had kicked in and she lashed out, collecting the man (judging by his grunt of pain), in the stomach. He relinquished his grip, her feet hitting the ground and then propelling up straight away, smashing into his chin, snapping his head back. Another rushed forward to help and Annabeth kicked out again, twisting her hips to gain more power.

The twist not only gave her kick enough strength to down the man with a well-placed knock to the head, but it also helped to loosen the grips on her arms. Annabeth jumped up, then upon landing, lurched forward, hoping to throw them off completely. They struggled but managed to hold on, even as she frantically twisted. She threw her head back, clipping one of them on the chin but it wasn't enough to loosen his grip. They were cursing, thinking her to be easy prey, their grip tightening as more swarmed to subdue her. Annabeth refused to give up, until one of the larger attackers knocked her soundly on the temple.

"Fool!" someone barked as Annabeth slumped into unconsciousness. "We need her sane!"

Someone slapped Annabeth awake. Dazed, it took her a minute or two to get her bearings. They hadn't bothered to move from her campsite, but there were bindings at her wrists at her back and at her ankles. Her belongings remained untouched, so they weren't after her possessions and the small fire she had made was engorged, causing her to shirk away from the heat. She was surrounded by a dozen or so figures, and that was only who she could see, making her balk slightly. There were women amongst them, which gave some relief about their intentions, but Annabeth was puzzled as to why she was chosen by these people to be their captive.

The strangest thing as the throbbing of her temple started to fade, was that the people surrounding her weren't paying any attention to her. Some were glancing in the same direction behind Annabeth and the rest had their heads bowed, muttering something indistinguishable to her. She squirmed, testing the limits of her binds and the patience of captors. She could've screamed and still they would've kept their silent vigil. Not giving up when she was unsuccessful, Annabeth needed more information about who these people were and work out her next move after.

"My children!"

It was the same voice she had heard before she fell unconscious. A man stepped forward and the crowd of people fell away from his path. For a second, Annabeth thought it was Luke. He had fair blonde hair and crystal blue eyes almost uncanny to Luke's, but the facial scar was missing and his hair, while short-cropped, had a messy quality to it that Luke would hate. This man wasn't as tall as Luke and although he appeared healthy, he lacked some of the fighting muscle that Luke had achieved over the years. Strange as it was that he called the others his 'children', he was also wearing what appeared to be a white toga over his clothes.

"The day is close at hand," he said excitedly. He stood just behind Annabeth and she didn't appreciate the symbolism it portrayed. "I have been consulted by a higher power and we will be the favoured!"

Annabeth struggled not to roll her eyes, but she did clench her teeth in frustration. She had been captured by religious fanatics! There were many different religious factions in varying degrees of fanaticism. Most were harmless, keeping to themselves or the larger cities to convert new members to their faith but Annabeth had heard of a few that considered their religion to be law, ignoring all other laws put in place. Reports of these cults often resorting to violence came thick and fast, enough so that most town guards had sketches of religious brands to identify who entered their gates.

It was too dark for Annabeth to discern any symbols on their cloaks, even those who stood closest to the fire. Her plans of talking her way out of the situation was fading quickly. She twisted her wrists, unable to move them, even to try and grab the stray end of the bindings. Shifting her ankles with the same result, her escape options were next to nothing, at least, not where she was. If they were to take her somewhere, she could get away then. For the time being, and much to her disgust, she would have to listen to their preaching to discover more about them.

"We have waited for this moment and our patience will be rewarded. We will rise above all others and I; I will show the other non-believers who their new leader will be!"

A roar of approval went up from his supporters. The man in charge had raised his arms, exulted by their reaction. Annabeth clenched her jaw, sickened, angered and embarrassed all over again at being caught by these people. The leader kicked Annabeth in the back, not hard, but enough for her to hiss in anger, glaring up at him.

"This is a non-believer," he continued, gesturing to her. "But her soul will be saved. We will take this naïve child with us and at the place where we will shine above all others, her blood will open the foundations and we will take what belongs to only those who believe!"

From inside the toga, the man pulled out a knife, twisting so the blade glinted in the flames. Annabeth tried to move away but he grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt. He made no move to place the knife closer to her but that hardly eased Annabeth's tension. A ripple of noise went through the crowd, a slow chanting murmur, building in volume and momentum, becoming frenzied. Annabeth struggled as her panic seeped in. A crescendo of howls and screams filled the air, causing her to flinch and hunker down to try and cover her ears from the noise. Her captor, his grip still firm on her shirt, basked in their devotion, smiling down at Annabeth, who glared in response.

"You will see our way and come to reason," he told her, as the noise died down. "You will welcome the chance to serve our cause when we get there." He ran the tip of the knife under one of her loose curls beside her temple. "What a beautiful sacrifice you will make," he murmured, mesmerised by the lock of hair.

"Octavian, my favourite fanatical asshole."

Annabeth's captor's head snapped up towards the voice, almost cutting her cheek as he pulled the knife away. Percy strolled into view, leaning against the trunk of a tree at the edge of the clearing. His voice was light, but his expression was anything but. Despite her earlier opinion, she was really relieved to see him.

"And here was me hoping you had died some tragic, but warranted, death," Percy continued. The leader, Octavian, snarled at Percy, his eyes darting to the shadows beside the unwanted visitor. Percy noticed, putting on that cocky grin Annabeth annoyed. "Yeah, they won't be attending the rest of festivities tonight. We had some disagreements on my invitation."

"You!" Octavian shrieked, finally finding his voice. He sounded like a madman, Percy's appearance certainly the cause of it. He pointed the knife towards Percy. "You must be sacrificed so the prophecy can come to fruition!"

Percy's grin dropped. "Here's a novel idea. Sacrifice yourself," he growled, his voice hard with barely contained rage.

"My children!" Octavian called out to his followers, gaining some of his composure. "That man is our key to a better future. Bring him to me."

The followers turned their attention towards Percy, who eyed them warily, unclipping his travelling cloak. He moved his hand hesitantly down to the hilt of his sword. "Please don't make me do this," he warned them when they continued to stalk in his direction. He drew his sword as they neared, stepping into the clearing to give himself space to move. One follower, holding a bludgeoned club, howled madly with impatience and charged at Percy, with the rest swiftly following.

Annabeth struggled against her binds, forgotten, watching helplessly as a dozen madmen charged Percy. His movements were smooth and clinical, dodging, weaving and parrying his opponents when they came in range. What struck her though was that he used the flat part of his blade to takedown the fanatics. This confused Annabeth but it didn't matter what technique he used because he was easily overcoming their attacks. He fought so differently than when he did in the pit. Clinical, almost effortless, gliding on his feet like a dance. It was so beautiful to watch that she was slightly envious.

Seeing that his men were being overrun, Octavian snarled in anger. He shoved Annabeth aside, grabbing from the follower next to him an elegantly crafted spear. He strode forward, pushing his followers aside as if they were no more than objects. He lifted the spear, charging towards Percy's exposed back, waiting for him to engaged with another fighter. Annabeth screamed out a warning but knew as his name left her lips that he wouldn't have time to react. His head half-spun towards her as Octavian lunged the spear forward …

And was knocked aside by another spear when a hooded figure entered the fray. The figure landed in a crouch between Percy and Octavian, who was surprised as any about the arrival of a second uninvited guest. Dressed in black with a cloak spread out around them, the figure looked up directly into the eyes of the religious leader, their face also covered with a black cloth so only their eyes were visible.

"She-Wolf!" Octavian spat out.

The followers closest to Octavian charged forward to protect their leader, but the spear of the hooded figure cut through them with little to no effort. As more of the fanatics rushed to aid Octavian, Percy and what had to be a fighter dispatched them, the fighter not having the same reservations Percy had regarding sparing lives. Octavian kept backtracking, tripping over a stray branch at one point in his haste to avoid the oncoming fighter, screaming orders to contain the 'She-Wolf'. A half dozen fanatics came from the shadows, more than Annabeth imagined were possible, overwhelming the second fighter on their quest to reach the retreating Octavian, who grabbed his protective guard and shoved them away, disappearing into the darkness. He glanced back just before he vanished, and Annabeth could see a hint of fear amongst the madness as he glanced towards the cloaked fighter.

The fighter finished the nearest fanatic, lifting their head towards Octavian and where he disappeared. Their head snapped towards Percy, who shoved away another fanatic before facing another.

"Go!" Percy waved away the fighter, who took off with a swish of their cloak after Octavian.

Percy made quick work of the remaining attackers, who had yet to realise their leader had left them. It was another reason Annabeth hated fanatics. While their followers had loyalty, their leaders hardly rewarded that loyalty with their own. As the last of the followers fell, Percy, chest heaving and breathing deeply with effort, glanced around the campsite, scanning every dark area and body to be sure no threat remained, before sheathing his sword.

"Did he hurt you?" Percy asked, rushing towards her. His eyes roamed down her body, checking for injuries. "Did he … do anything to you?"

Annabeth shook her head as her hands sprung free. She massaged her wrists. "No." Percy appeared relieved that she was unharmed. Odd. "He just spoke incessantly about some religious omen and prophets or some nonsense."

"He does that," Percy muttered darkly. She could feel the tension emitting from his body and it was staring at him as he continued to scan the surrounding forest for any oncoming threats that Annabeth could see the trained Elite fighter he used to be.

"You were tracking me," Annabeth accused half-heartedly, getting to her feet.

"Yeah," replied Percy, rising also. "I would've gotten to you sooner, but Luke's refined his technique."

"No, he hasn't," she told him. Annabeth met his gaze when she felt it on her. "Mine's just better." Percy chuckled, nodding in agreement. "So, does this mean you changed your mind?" she asked.

"Ah," said Percy, hesitant to answer. He grabbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair. "Not exactly. I'm hoping you will –."

"Dammit Percy!" The hooded figure swore, striding over and pulling off their hood and the cloth covering their face as they did. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for this chance? And now he's vanished again!"

The She-Wolf was a woman. Tall and imposing, her piercing dark eyes were glaring at Percy, demanding an explanation. Her raven coloured hair was coming loose from its braid and her leather armour, boots and gloves looked expensive and immaculate, making Annabeth feel a little inadequate in her dirtied shirt, worn, but comfortable, boots and dishevelled hair. It was also clear that the two of them knew each other.

"It's been a long time, Reyna," said Percy, with a warm smile. "I thought we agreed to stop pursuing him."

Her anger had softened with his smile, though it did still appear to be simmering. "You knew I wouldn't," she countered.

He nodded. "Maybe I fooled myself into hoping you would," he said softly. Reyna shook her head in half-disgust, half-resignation. "It's good to see you," he added.

Reyna smiled grudgingly. "And you Percy, and you." It was only when Reyna stared at Annabeth pointedly, did Percy appear to remember she was there. Idiot.

"Oh, Reyna, Annabeth. Annabeth, Reyna," Percy introduced.

The two women nodded to each other. Annabeth didn't know much about Reyna, but she was silently taking note of the folded spear at her back, the knife at her hip and the small one sticking out from her right boot. This woman had style, which Annabeth appreciated.

"How long had you been tracking him?" asked Percy after clearing his throat.

"I never really stopped," answered Reyna, taking a seat beside the fire, away from the fallen fanatics. Percy joined her, urging Annabeth to do the same. "It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I finally got a substantial lead on him. Rumours have been swirling that someone is attempting to retrieve the Crystal."

Percy, to his credit, didn't glance towards Annabeth or react to the news. "Being the prophet meant he had to wield it, not anyone else."

Reyna nodded. "Worked himself up into a frenzy and forgot to be careful. I knew that at some point he would choose his 'sacrifice' and I knew once he did that would be my chance to nab him. I didn't count on you playing the hero though."

"What can I say?" Percy eased back on his elbows, his laidback attitude returning as the danger passed. "Never could pass up the opportunity to be a lady's hero." He winked at Annabeth, who scowled in return, causing Reyna to snort.

"Smooth as always," Reyna commented. "I should go. There's at least three of his hidey holes he could have gone to. Maybe I'll get lucky and pick the right one." She rose to her feet, Percy doing the same. It might have been the firelight, but Annabeth thought there was a wistful smile on her face. Reyna nodded her farewell to Annabeth and Percy followed her to the edge of the light. Annabeth pretended to busy herself with checking her bag.

"Do I want to know?" asked Reyna quietly.

"I'm handling it," replied Percy, just as quietly. "You know the offer's still there. There's always a spot for you at … you don't have to keep doing this."

"I know, Perce." She touched his cheek gently. "But I just … I can never …" Reyna sighed, gazing out into the darkness, eyes shining in the light. "It's better if I don't. But thank you. I have a feeling we'll see each other again soon."

Reyna threw up her hood and vanished into the darkness, her footfalls slowly diminishing into silence. Percy watched after her for a bit before re-joining Annabeth at the fire. He stared long and hard into the flames, his face unreadable.

"Do you have anything to eat?" he eventually asked Annabeth.

"Where's your stuff?" she asked by way of reply. She pulled up her bed roll, flapping it out to remove dirt.

Percy shrugged. "Somewhere back there. I'll get it in the morning, but I don't have any food."

"Neither do I," Annabeth lied, settling down. She rolled over so her back was to him.

"Shame. Could do with some food right about now."

Annabeth heard him sigh, rising to his feet, his muscles popping as he stretched. He shuffled around for a bit, then she heard him a rustle behind her, followed by a warmth at her back. She spun around, almost shrieking in surprise when she spotted him lying directly behind her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, sitting up.

"You didn't want to cuddle?" he asked, confused. "You've been through a traumatic experience and your mind has to process what happened. Cuddling helps."

Annabeth made a noise of disgust. "If I ever needed consoling, I would ask you last," she stated in a hard, but firm voice. She got to her feet, pulling her bed roll from underneath Percy. "And if you decide you want to come any closer to me, I'll punch that smug look off your face."

Percy put his hands up innocently, settling onto an elbow to face her. "You did ask for my help."

"I didn't want it," she muttered.

"If you say so," he asked coyly. "I'll be just over here if you change your mind."

Annabeth's kept her back purposely to Percy until she fell asleep.