As always, these characters do not belong to me.
Chapter Four
"Miss Annabeth?"
Annabeth scowled at the small porter who was waiting for at the bottom of the tavern stairs the following morning. He flinched at her expression, shuffling nervously.
"Percy asked me to tell you that he had gone for a swim in the river and that he ordered breakfast for you and that I would have to be waiting for you when you woke," he said with a high-pitched squeak.
"You didn't need to add that last part in," she advised.
The young porter scuttled away after delivering his message, leaving a heavy sighing Annabeth to find the maid that had her meal. While the meal of porridge and honey was mediocre, she was glad they at least served coffee. Settling into her chair with her cup, she plotted their course for the next couple of days. She was debating whether they should stock up supplies and skip the next few towns when Percy wandered in.
Annabeth was unimpressed by his entrance but was the only woman to be so. Hair dripping, upper body glistening because his shirt was thrown over one shoulder, pants sitting low on his hips, Percy strode in casually, looking refreshed after his 'swim'. The women in the tavern stopped what they were doing to watch him. He nodded with a grin at Annabeth when he noticed her, hopping up the stairs two at a time.
"Does he own a shirt?" Annabeth muttered darkly into her cup.
"I hope not," the barmaid sighed, resting her elbow on the bar as she stared after his retreating figure.
Annabeth rolled her eyes.
After the events of their first couple of days, Annabeth was relieved that their day's travel was uneventful. They made good time, thanks to Percy procuring her a horse. Appalled that the mare hadn't been given a name, he spent most of the morning thinking of a name, aghast that Annabeth didn't feel the need to. With the mare's grey coat and white socks, Percy decided on the name 'Silver Mist', his own black roan aptly named 'Blackjack'. When questioned over the importance, Percy answered, "everything deserves a name".
They stopped roughly where Annabeth had plotted, going about their routines. Percy tended to the horses, checking over them after the hard day's ride before wandering down towards the river to grab water. Annabeth prepared their meal after grabbing the wood, noting the feminine jobs she had appeared to get. Having never put as much consideration into cooking as she did into training, she only knew how to make simple meals. Thankfully, most of their food had already been cooked by the tavern chef's so all Annabeth had to do was divvy up and serve.
"How did you know Octavian?" she asked, after they had settled down.
Percy, who was lying casually on his bedroll, lifted himself up onto his elbows with a curious expression. "Hard to forget the man who deems you a sacrifice," he stated, lying back down afterwards. "He's the reason I entered the Cave for the second time," he added, gazing upwards.
"But you escaped?"
"Not early enough."
"What's in the Cave?"
Percy shook his head. "Darkness."
Annabeth could see in the firelight that whatever had happened to Percy in the Cave was one of the memories that haunted him. She knew all about repressing memories, having a few herself she would be glad to never see the light of day. Despite understanding, she needed what he knew if she was to succeed in her mission. If she was patient, there would be time for her to coax the walls he built down, but was she prepared to do the same?
"And Reyna?" asked Annabeth, changing the subject.
Percy grinned, looking over to her. "I was wondering when your curiosity would get the better of you."
"You said you were both hunting Octavian," she prompted, trying not to frown at the implication.
He looked back up to the sky. "I tried a stint as a bounty hunter for a time after my second brush with the Cave. Reyna, also a bounty hunter if you didn't pick that up, was hunting the same bandit at the time. After a few frosty encounters, we decided to team up to catch them, and then for a few more."
"Team up," she repeated, relaxing a little into her bedroll.
Percy shrugged with a smile. "We were travelling alone together. Nights got cold, tensions needed to be released, you know what it's like. It was never anything more than that. We were pretty efficient together, catching more felons than any other bounty hunter, all the while keeping a close ear to the ground about Octavian and his cult. Eventually I saw how toxic our occupation and living arrangement was and couldn't do it anymore. I tried to convince her to do the same, but she was determined to find and kill him."
"What did he do to her? I only ask because it sounds personal," she added when Percy glanced her way.
"She lived in a colony to the east," answered Percy. "They kept to themselves and were mostly peaceful. They had the odd disagreements here and there but they were always resolved with minimal long-term effects. Octavian was part of that colony and was the instigator in its destruction with his religious preaching and radical ideals. He believed he was the prophet set to bring about a new age. Beginning, of course, with the attainment of the Crystal."
"He destroyed their colony?" repeated Annabeth aghast.
"It's all Reyna would say but I'm assuming he took his followers with him and sacrificed those who didn't believe. I think she and a few other of the stronger fighters were on a hunting trip and when they came back …"
Annabeth stared into the flames. She couldn't imagine what that would feel like, to come home and found everyone you loved either gone or dead. She glanced over at Percy, who was lost in his own thoughts, probably thoughts similar to Annabeth's. Her dreams were plagued with memories of her father. There was another woman, her stern voice floating around her but never a clear image of her face. She woke with that voice yelling her name, trying not to gasp.
Years had passed since she dreamt about her parents, of the mother who was never around, never bothered to check in on Annabeth. She would wake from nightmares and cry out for her, hoping that somewhere, somehow, she would hear her daughter's screams. But that was foolish, child-like and Annabeth grew to despise and, in a way, appreciate her. She made Annabeth into a tough, independent fighter, using logic and level-headed strategies instead of emotion to make decisions.
Riding beside Percy, she thought of Reyna's story, of her dream, of her silent code. She glanced over to him, hoping finding another annoying habit of his would distract her. He appeared asleep in his saddle, as he often did when they rested the horses from a hard gallop. She had strayed sometimes on the logical decision making when it came to Luke, but she had reassured herself it was only on minor occasions. Seeing Percy as carefree as he was, she contemplated whether she would do the same with him. She shook her head, dismissing the notion.
Their next couple of days brought about a change in scenery. The forest around the road cleared into grassy plains, open for any to see who travelled. They passed a few merchants and groups along the road, Annabeth steering clear while Percy good-naturedly interacted with them when they asked about travel conditions. Judging by the way they left her alone, she would say her scowl was working. Percy would often look in her direction after the travellers would swiftly pass and chuckle with a small shake of her head. She held her snappish response, hoping her glower was enough to remind him to keep his opinions to himself.
In a patch where they had a strip of road to themselves, Percy whistled to catch her attention. She had been passing the time reading and sketching in her book and map. He had wisely decided not to press his curiosity after she had thrown a rock at his head for snooping when they had stopped for a break. Glancing to him, he whistled again and gestured ahead, pointing out the dark rolling clouds they were approaching.
"No shelter anywhere near," Percy answered her silent query. "Unless you got something in that book of yours."
Annabeth shook her head, her eyes scanning the horizon for anything that could pass as a shelter. "Will it pass?" she asked.
"Possibly but I doubt it. Hunker down, we're about to get wet," he said, throwing up his hood.
Annabeth had only three minutes to prepare before the rain came at them like a wave. Within a minute they were soaked. Annabeth could barely see in front of her, let alone hear Percy as rain poured down around them. They continued to gallop on for ten minutes before Percy gestured they stop, swinging from his saddle to approach her.
"We can't keep going like this," he shouted over the rain.
"Where can we stop?" she shouted back. "You said yourself, there's nothing out here."
Percy glanced around even though he knew it was useless. Annabeth was right. "I'll walk the horses. It's too dangerous not to. You keep an eye out."
Annabeth had to admire Percy's perseverance as he trudged through the muddied road, leading her and the horses. She lost track of time, altering between hunkering down in her saddle to standing in her stirrups, straining her eyes trying to find shelter. And the rain just kept coming down, determined to drown them. Just as Annabeth was beginning to wonder whether she would ever be dry again, she spotted it. The tiniest flicker of light that at first, she wasn't sure if it was real or a trick of the light. But no, there it was!
In her excitement, she slapped Percy so hard on the back that he slipped forward. His expression was a mixture of fury and startlement when he faced her. She thought she heard him swear in relief when she pointed out the light, directing the horses to their right, abandoning the road altogether. The light came from an old-style looking house. Annabeth could see a river twist around the entrance and beyond, it's banks brimming with the downpour. There was another roar coming from behind the house and it took Annabeth a minute to realise the house must be situated near a small cliff face, the river no doubt turning into a waterfall.
"I'll take care of the horses," said Percy when they reached the elaborate front gate.
As Percy cautiously took the horses back down the path, Annabeth thought she heard him muttering to them. Shaking her head and spraying the ground with more water, she hurried to knock on the heavily polished door, the light spewing from the windows teasing her with their warmth. A young woman, a year or two younger than Annabeth, answered her persistent knocking, a lantern in one hand.
"So sorry to bother you," said Annabeth, repeating it louder when the woman looked confused. She pulled down her hood, instantly having to blink the water from her eyes. "My companion and I got stuck in this rain. We saw the light from your windows and was wondering if we could stay until this blew over? We will pay if necessary."
The woman's brown eyes surveyed Annabeth's soaking figure, right down to her mud-stained boots. She was slim, with a simple dress and a servant cap over her hair. Her expression turned cautious, her doubt making her bite her bottom lip as she glanced behind her shoulder and then out behind Annabeth. The servant looked weak and she was defenceless against a trained Elite. If she refused, Annabeth could force her to let them in. Wait, why would she think that? There was no need for violence. Was she that desperate that she would hurt this innocent girl just to get inside?
"Please?" asked Annabeth, close to pleading.
Percy reappeared as the woman nodded, ushering them inside. Instant warmth hit them once they entered the hallway and Annabeth almost moaned. She thanked the woman, apologising for the muddied mess they were about to make on the carpets.
"It's alright," the girl admitted. "My mistress will understand when she sees …" she stopped when Percy pulled back his hood. Annabeth frowned at the look of fear and trepidation on her face as she gazed at him. Annabeth whirled around to him, about to demand an answer, but he looked confused and concerned by the girl's reaction. "You didn't tell me your companion was a man?" she accused Annabeth weakly.
"Is that a problem?" asked Annabeth warily.
She was silent, deliberating before she answered. "No, no of course not," the woman assured them. She even smiled at Percy, as though her previous reaction didn't happen. Annabeth wasn't convinced, and neither it appeared, was Percy. "My mistress, Miss C, has already retired for the afternoon, but she would be delighted to have you two stay as her guests for dinner," the woman said in an almost bubbly tone.
She took them down the hallway and up the main flight of stairs. Percy wisely kept his distance behind the two of them.
"There are spare rooms on the northern wing. I can arrange a bigger room for you and … is he your husband?" she added in a whisper to Annabeth.
Annabeth snorted. "Definitely not," she said. "We met on the road and thought it best to travel together to avoid any troubles," she lied after catching the raised eyebrow of the servant.
Her mission was of the utmost secrecy, even if rumours were already swirling. This girl didn't need to know what she and Percy were really up to, and if anyone happened to arrive and ask questions, they wouldn't suspect two innocent travellers caught in a storm to be Elite fighters.
"I see," she said, glancing back towards Percy, who appeared interested in the interior of the house. Though what he saw, apparently puzzled him. "We can give you separate rooms if you prefer?"
"Please don't go to much trouble over us. Once the storm has passed, we will continue on our way."
"Oh, but you must stay! Our mistress won't want you to think of her as a bad host. Plus, the river is sure to rise to dangerous levels. Better to wait until it drops a little first."
Annabeth's suspicions flared at the servant's insistences, but she kept it from registering on her face, instead thanking her for her generosity. She took in the interior of the house, the antiquities that surrounded them. Pristine rugs covered polished floors, with beautifully dark wooden walls. The whole house had an ancient feel to it; as if it had stood for a long time and would continue to do so long after they had left the shelter of its walls.
The room Annabeth was given had an adjoining door to Percy's and was huge. It could have almost been a house on its own. A bedroom, bathroom, balcony and sitting room, all furnished, complete with an already burning fireplace. Clearly, word had gotten around in the household of their guests. Annabeth gravitated towards the warmth, almost missing the woman explaining another servant would bring them towels and then later they would be escorted to their dinner with the owner, Miss C. Percy entered her room from his adjoining door a few minutes later, moving towards the fire as he removed his cloak.
"Where are the horses?" asked Annabeth.
"Found a clump of trees that will give them some cover," he answered, inspecting a painting above the fireplace as he warmed his hands.
"Did you grab the bags from the saddles?"
"Thought it best to leave them there."
Annabeth's head whipped towards him. "My stuff was in that bag!"
"And it's going to stay there. We needed to look like desperate, harmless travellers on foot, with nothing but the clothes on our backs."
"We were desperate," she hissed.
"And your scowl can frighten even the toughest fighter," countered Percy, unconcerned. "Trust me, your stuff is fine." He turned back to the painting. "There's something about this woman. I can't seem to recall … Can you?"
There was a knock at the door. Another servant, younger than their welcomer, stood with towels in her hands. She wore a similar dress and servant cap as the other woman, though this woman was a lot more petite with brown eyes. She took one look at Percy and stepped back, blushing bright red. Annabeth forgot that Percy was supposed to be in the other room.
"Towels for you both," she said in a soft voice.
"Thank you," said Percy warmly with a smile. He reached out to take the towels from her, but she flinched and withdrew. He hesitated, pulling his hands back. Annabeth strode forward and took the towels with a smile and a word of thanks. Once the door was closed, Annabeth rounded to him.
"Okay, what did you do to these women?"
"I swear, I've never been here before," he said. He was looking troubled as he stared at the door the servant just left. "I didn't even know this place existed."
Annabeth could see he was telling the truth and if that was the case, then what was it about Percy that had them so tentative. Did he look like someone they knew? She glanced towards him as he wandered to his room to use the bathroom. It was possible, but she wasn't convinced. His shoulders were broad for his body type, his eye colour a rare shade of green … he wasn't an anomaly, but he wasn't common either. The only thing that could possibly unnerve the servants was that he was male; a trait he couldn't change.
Shaking her head at the bizarre behaviour of the servants, she removed her cloak, placing it beside Percy's by the fire. Grabbing a towel to dry her hair, she inspected the room, kicking off her boots in the process. This wasn't a mere guest room. Whoever used to own this house built this room with a certain occupant in mind. She moved around the rooms, her eyes on the walls, her fingers tracing the grooves around the bedhead.
"What are you doing?" asked Percy from the bedroom doorway. "Is this your subtle way of inviting me into your bedroom?"
Annabeth rolled her eyes but kept running her fingers over the wood. "Searching for hidden doors," she replied simply, as if it was normal. She wished she had her notebook.
Percy laughed. "How many have you found in the past?"
"There's six at the Elite base," Annabeth told him. She turned her head to glance at him, unsurprised to see his shirt was off. He was ruffling up his hair in one of the towels, stopping when he heard her answer. She smirked at him. "You didn't know?"
"I knew of a couple," he admitted, continuing to ruffle his hair. "But six?"
"Rich people always needed alternate escape routes and hidey holes to store their wealth," shrugged Annabeth. Watching him dry off, she had the strangest urge to go over and run her hands through his hair. She blinked, grabbing the end of the bed to stop her feet from moving. Percy, who was in the process of drying his face, didn't notice as she hastily focused back on the wall.
"Huh," he said, grudgingly impressed. "Well, I'm beat so I'm going to try and sleep. Happy, uh, searching."
Annabeth happened to glance over as he was heading back towards the fireplace and was almost about to say something in her surprise. A burn scar, about the size of a dinner plate stretched over his left shoulder blade. Considering the amount of time he spent without a shirt, she couldn't understand how she failed to notice it before. Thinking back on those times, she hadn't been close enough to see him fighting in the pit and afterwards he was wearing a robe when she met him in his room. In the tavern he had draped shirt over that particular shoulder when he walked in. Was he covering it? If so, why?
Maybe she was just overthinking it. He was a fighter, as was she. Scars were inevitable in their line of work. Even she wouldn't be able to explain where all her scars came from and in the end, who would really want to know? Percy had wandered back to his room after he was dry enough to take a nap. Annabeth too, eyed the bed with longing but her suspicious nature won out, so she chose instead to sit in front of the fire and read one of the books on the shelf as the rain continued to fall heavily outside.
The day slowly slipped away and the rain appeared to finally slow to a steady drizzle as the night began. Annabeth was starting to nod off when a knock startled her to her feet. Three servant girls entered, two carrying baskets and the other a dress. They explained they needed to make Annabeth presentable for her dinner with their mistress. The next couple of hours, despite her heavy protests, Annabeth was scrubbed clean from head to toe (her privacy be damned!), her hair cut and styled, makeup applied to her face and a gold shimmer powder added to her arms and chest before she could put on the dress they supplied.
The dress was sleeveless and made of silk, flowing down to her feet. A silver sheen flickered through the dress as she moved, the gold shimmer powder making her skin glow. Her hair was braided with gold, with loose curls tumbling down one of her shoulders. Her eyes had a smoky look about them, making her seem beautiful and aloof. They provided her with simple leather sandals, again, highlighted with bits of gold. She looked beautiful and regal, like a lady of high class and esteem. She had never put much effort into her appearance, only considering it when Luke was having a dinner but, in the end, always wearing what she knew to be practical and comfortable. The woman looking back at her from the mirror didn't look like her at all, and she wasn't sure whether she truly liked her.
As the servants were putting the finishing touches to her makeup, periodically sighing and smiling at her reflection, Percy burst into the room. The servants scattered at his presence, almost smearing the work they had done on her face. He looked uncomfortable, shaking his head and flinching as he continually glanced back towards the door; but that wasn't what had Annabeth fixated on him. Washed and cleaned as she had been, Percy looked handsome. His messy hair had been styled, his travelling clothes swapped for charcoal coloured pants and jacket, a black long-sleeved shirt underneath that opened at his neck. The ensemble highlighted his tanned skin and the unique green colour of his eyes and that strange longing she experienced earlier returned.
"What happened to you?" asked Annabeth.
"They … the girl servants said they were to assist with getting ready for the dinner. Which is fine, but then they, they helped and … and scrubbed … scrubbed everywhere."
Annabeth tried to keep her amused smile from her face. He struggled to remain composed, blushing as he kept a watchful eye on the door, worried they were about to follow him in. "The mighty Percy afraid of a couple of servant girls," Annabeth joked lightly, trying to push down that strange impulsion. "Are you shy?"
"Oh, ha ha," he said in a clipped tone. "Laugh all you want but if the roles were reversed and it was some group of guys getting handsy to you then you –."
Percy finally faced her mid-sentence and froze. He appeared to stand a little taller as he took her in. His eyes moved down her dress before finding her stare. He looked as though he wanted to say something but couldn't, instead opting to run a hand through his styled hair, making it messy again. After witnessing his demeanour, Annabeth found herself unable to look at him, instead nervously playing with the side of her dress. She had seen other women at balls and gatherings have that same silencing effect when they entered the room. Admiration and jealousy always struck Annabeth when she saw those women, but could it be possible if she paid a little attention to her hair and attire that she could be the same? She hoped she wasn't blushing and wanted to curse her sudden bout of shyness.
"You, uh," Percy started, but another knock interrupted him and before she knew it, they were being ushered down the hall, then the stairs and into a large dining room.
A twenty-person seated table, the central feature of the room, sat underneath a beautiful grand chandelier. The woman that met them, Miss C, was beautiful and explained the portrait Percy had been looking at in Annabeth's room. She was wearing a black flowing dress, with her long dark hair braided with gold, identical to Annabeth's. Her eyes were a piercing green, though she smiled warmly at Annabeth, that smile stiffened when it was directed at Percy. She too, disapproved of Percy's presence in her house. It was that look that brought back Annabeth's suspicions and Percy's earlier mention of the familiarity of the painting.
"You poor, weary travellers," Miss C said, gesturing to the three seats already set at one end. "When my dear Helena told me that you were stuck in that storm, begging for shelter my heart went out for you. I'm so glad you decided to stay for dinner."
"We appreciate your generosity and hospitality, Miss C," Annabeth replied, deciding it would be best she do the talking. Percy was eyeing their host and the servants carefully, clearly uncomfortable. "This house is so beautiful. Tell me how you keep it is such pristine condition?"
"This is delightful," Miss C told Annabeth as their entrée of soup was served. "I so rarely get guests. This house has been in my family for three generations starting with my grandmother. She was a weaver. Most of the carpets and tapestries in this house were made by her. She was the most sort after weaver, with many coming from all over just to see her weave. Do you know much about looms, my dear?" Percy's eyes widened a little at the information, his posture stiffening.
"I'm afraid very little," admitted Annabeth. "But my mother used to dabble in it." She could feel Percy's eyes shift to her. She took a sip of the wine and ignored his gaze, scolding her carelessness. Since the dream, her mother had been on her mind and it was foolish and dangerous to slip and bring her into casual conversation, even one as private as theirs. Not even Luke knew of Annabeth's past.
"It is a dying art," Miss C agreed sadly, sipping at her own glass of wine. "My mother, bless her heart, tried to continue with my grandmother's legacy but she was driven out for other, favourable options. But enough of this dreary subject," she said with a smile. "Please, tell me about yourself."
Annabeth kept her answers vague as they finished their soup and moved onto the main course. The food was delicious, but Annabeth was careful not to eat or drink too much. Percy seemed content not to touch anything in front of him, but after a long stare from Miss C in his direction, he sipped sparingly, eating only the bare minimal that was considered polite. After their plates had been cleared and they were waiting for dessert, did Miss C decide to turn her attention to him.
"What do you do?" she demanded of him.
"I'm a traveller, ma'am," he replied formally.
"Is that what he told you?" she asked Annabeth sceptically. She didn't wait for Annabeth to answer, just faced Percy again. Her eyes darkened. "You know what I despise? Men, and their lies."
Percy blinked, his jaw clenching but he said nothing. He blinked again, swaying a little in his seat.
"It was men who cast my mother out," Miss C continued. "Used her, seduced her and then replaced her with men they thought were better." She turned to Annabeth. "Did he make you promises, my dear? Did he vow to protect you at a cost? Don't worry. He won't be harming you any further." She smiled viciously at Percy. "I've seen to that."
