Reader warning: Mature content and minor course language.
As always, these characters do not belong to me.
Chapter Seven
Annabeth travelled in silence for two days. Percy said nothing about her red-rimmed eyes, or attempted to talk to her in that time, instead letting her come to terms with the scare. So used to their routines, Annabeth was able to shut off and simply go through the motions. They didn't bother with the next small village, Percy instead getting lucky and catching a couple of rabbits. The day after their encounter, anxiety gripped her when he disappeared from her view to get water or check the horses and snares, and it was only remembering teachings on meditation was she able to calm her hysteria. By the second day after the Festival of Lights, she had managed to gain her composure but continued her silence.
She was embarrassed. Embarrassed and ashamed. She could see Arachne when she closed her eyes and shuddered at her image. The nightmares that came after she finally got to sleep nearly had her screaming when she woke and only a sharp piercing bite of her lip prevented it from escaping. How could she fall apart like this? She was a strong Elite fighter, not some defenceless girl cowering in the shadows while her predator stalked. She should've faced Arachne when she saw her. Why couldn't she face her?
It was her fear. A fear drilled into her when she was a girl, manifesting and settling into the very core of who she was and how she lived. It was that sort of life-manipulating fear that could only be contained with all the strength and willpower the person possessed. It was the sort of deep-entrenched fear that could never be overcome. Since joining Luke and the Elites, Annabeth had been able to lock that fear tightly away, pushing it further and further down until she convinced herself it had never existed. To repress it for so long … well, she could understand why it exploded so spectacularly when she saw Arachne.
Annabeth was eating her lukewarm broth on the evening of the third day when Percy sat beside her. She could judge by his behaviour it was time to talk about it, but she still shirked away from his gaze. She busied herself with eating the contents of her bowl and then retrieving her cup of water, her hand shaking slightly. She wanted to appear nonchalant but knew she was failing terribly. Was it her fear from admitting the truth? Or was it her pride?
"I have questions," Percy said tentatively, searching her face for a reaction.
She glanced down, her fingers tapping against her cup. She gained some courage to look at him. "But tonight is such a lovely night. Why ruin it?" she said, trying to joke but her voice was weak and croaky.
The corners of his lips quirked, though concern was still written on his face. "It's unfair, I know," he said softly. "For me to ask this of you, when I haven't been so forthcoming, but I …" he faltered. He swallowed, taking a deep breath. "The Cave feeds on your fear and pain. All of it. It makes you, confront, the worst parts of yourself. It …" he faltered again. Annabeth noticed his hands wringing together. "To many," he continued. "It's too unbearable. I don't want …" he paused. Exhaling loudly, he found his courage, giving her an encouraging smile through his pale expression. "Talking might help."
Percy remained silent, waiting patiently for her to explain. No, not explain, to confide in someone else, to help carry her burden, her fear. He had kept his distance, let her process her encounter with Arachne and the aftermath on her own having only guessed at what had caused her reaction. Didn't he deserve the truth? No one else would have been so patient, not even Luke. If she was to explain, it would have to be from the beginning. Was she prepared to be that open?
"I've never met my mother," she admitted softly, her gaze at the cup in her hands. "I don't even know how my parents met. I was left on my father's doorstep after I was born. If there was a note, my father never told me what was written. I grew up without a mother and with a father, who spent more time studying then tending to his daughter. It wasn't his fault. He just didn't know how to raise a child."
Taking a deep breath, Annabeth continued, her voice loudening but with no emotion. "He thought re-marrying would fix everything. They had two sons, my stepbrothers, and all my stepmother's time went to them. By then I was already independent, so I didn't care but the little jabs she sent in my direction: that I did care about. I left not long after that, knowing it was better for us that I left. I don't think my father even noticed," she added, a little bitterly.
"How old were you?" asked Percy gently.
"Nine, ten," she shrugged. Percy raised an eyebrow but let her carry on. "I had already learned how to look after myself so I figured I could do it elsewhere. Took me a while but I adapted, and I went in search for my mother. I can't remember what town it was in but one of her children, Malcolm, found me. He heard of my interest in Athena and sought me out to warn me. Athena's children were being hunted by a witch of a woman called Arachne, who wanted vengeance. Athena allegedly humiliated her and consequently drove her from her hometown in shame." Percy nodded, somehow hearing the same rumours.
Annabeth sighed and continued. "Arachne couldn't attack Athena directly, Malcolm was unsure why, so she decided to kill her children and send their hearts to her. Her 'children', weren't only her trueborn kin, but those she adopted for their minds. Scholars that shared her passion for knowledge, and of those, she had many. Malcolm warned that if I continued to ask questions about her, I would be tracked and killed. I hadn't truly believed Malcolm after he left but I respected him enough to not ask again. It was in the next town that I realised he was right.
"She had been tracking me, but I was lucky that the next town boasted about their physician who was a student of Athena. She mistook the two of us for being one person and took him instead." Annabeth swallowed. "I had been sleeping in an alleyway when I heard them grab him. I followed them to the forest, where an old altar lay and then she …" Annabeth shuddered, recalling that night in vivid detail. She had nightmares for days after what she witnessed. "I had never seen violence like that before and the screams … I never forgot her face. It was so cold, so cruel. From that night, I never spoke of my mother or family again."
"Luke?" Percy asked quietly.
Annabeth shook her head. "He didn't even ask," she admitted. Her heart clenched painfully.
"I'm sorry, Annabeth," Percy said sincerely. He frowned again. "You were ten years old when you left?"
"Yes."
"And you survived, by yourself, in the streets until you were what, fifteen, sixteen?"
Annabeth shrugged and nodded. "I suppose so."
"Fuck," he breathed out in awe. He leaned closer. "You are so much stronger than you know. Don't forget that." He smiled and pulled back. Annabeth felt herself warm a little at his praise. "Thanks, for telling me. I know it wasn't easy and I promise, if I see that witch, I'll cut her heart out myself. Actually, I probably won't," he added, after thinking about it. "Because that a little too intense for me. But I will kill her if she tries to hurt you."
Annabeth smiled, touched at his declaration. "Thank you, Percy. I'm going to call it a night." She felt exhausted and he nodded in understanding, rising so he could check on the horses and start his watch shift.
She dreamt of Percy that night. She had dreamt of him before but not like this. He was sitting on a small hill, surrounding by Annabeth's favourite flowers, the setting sun shining over him like an aura, a light breeze ruffling his hair. He turned and smiled when she approached, gracefully rising to his feet to embrace her. Annabeth had never felt so safe and comforted before, but she did, on that small hill with him. He pulled back, still smiling as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He gently tilted her head back, his lips meeting hers as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
And Annabeth deepened the kiss. She ran her fingers through his hair, clinging to him tighter. She wanted this, she wanted him, and he responded in kind. It was when their clothes started coming off did Annabeth startle herself awake. She glanced over to his sleeping frame and blushed, hurrying to grab a change of clothes and headed to the river to wash. It wasn't that she hadn't had sex dreams before but that kiss … her lips tingled at the thought. That to Annabeth felt more like a memory than a dream …
He did kiss her. At the Festival of Lights when Arachne closed in at the time of the big final light display and everyone around them celebrated by kissing their partners or those closest to them. Annabeth had been so focused on Arachne and the aftermath of their encounter that she'd forgotten that Percy had kissed her. Recalling the kiss, his lips were soft and a little tentative when they met hers for those few seconds. She ran her fingers over her lips, blinking and snapping out of the haze. She loved Luke, not Percy. There was no way she could be developing feelings for him. No way …
She washed quickly, answering his questions as politely as she could with only one worded answers. This didn't seem to concern him but then again, she had been silent for the last few days, so he would've just assumed she was still coming to terms with everything. She opted to taking the lead, hoping that by doing so would lesser her thoughts straying to him. It didn't. Subject. She needed a subject to talk about … why was it so hard to think of something else?
"How'd you know about her?" asked Annabeth. She choked a little trying to say her name. "Arachne."
Percy thought about it as he rode, even scratching at the stubble forming on his jawline. "There used to be a daughter of Athena that joined the Elites around the same time I did. She explained who she was and that she had escaped the clutches of a vengeful woman aiming to damage her mother and wanted to develop her fighting skillset so that if she ever met her again, she could defend herself or kill her. She never uttered her name but someone else knew of a similar story. I heard she put up a pretty good fight before …" He trailed off, an apologetic expression on his face when he glanced towards her. He coughed. "Needless to say … she's not you," he added, trying to be helpful. "And, she didn't have me as her protective guard."
Annabeth snorted. "You're my protective guard?"
"I did rescue you from Octavian," he pointed out.
"And how many times did I have to prevent a knife going into your back," she said rhetorically.
"Are you requesting to be my bodyguard?" Percy asked slyly, smirking.
"No! How did you get that impression?"
"Because I wouldn't say no if you were." He winked.
"I'm surprised no one has killed you out of sheer annoyance," she stated.
"I'm sure they've thought about it, but I'm just too valuable," he said humbly.
Well, she solved her issue. All Annabeth needed to do was get Percy talking and her attraction towards him vanishes in an instant. But then she would be driven insane. She had dropped back with Silver Mist, so she was walking beside Percy and snuck a glance at him. There were times when Annabeth couldn't believe that her travelling companion was the only one to return from the Cave alive, twice. He said things that were so ridiculous she had trouble taking him seriously, but then he had moments where she was glad he was beside her, facing the growing amount of obstacles in their path.
"You said the Cave uses your fear against you," she started, once they had settled down for the night. "How?"
"It's hard to explain," he replied, gazing off into the distance. "It's almost as if it gets this weird sort of read about you when you enter. It like, drudges up everything you try to suppress." He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memories.
"Its defensive mechanism is not physical," said Annabeth, thinking it through. "It's mental."
"Whatever it is, it's unpleasant," stated Percy. "Are you sure you're prepared for it?"
She had no answer for him, and they went to sleep with that question hanging over them. Only when the time came would she know if she was ready, but at least she had gained an advantage knowing a little more about its defences. They rose early to make up some ground from their delays. The scenery around them changed into a heavy forest, with thickset and ancient trees protecting the young saplings from lumberjacks. It grew quieter as they progressed further in, the dead leaves smothering the hooves of the horses. There was something about the forest that had Annabeth checking that her knife was secure at her hip and even her spare at her boot was in place.
"Stop!" Percy commanded, startling Annabeth. "We need to give that place a wide berth," he told her once she faced him with a scowl. He gestured ahead of her.
"The quickest route is through this part of the forest," she protested.
"And the deadliest. The Gorgons live in that area."
"The Gorgons? I thought they were dead," said Annabeth. Silver Mist shook her head uneasily.
"At least one of them is still alive and hunting there. They won't venture outside their territory," he assured her, veering Blackjack to a safer part of the forest. Annabeth glanced at the section of forest Percy gestured to, shuddered and urged Silver Mist to follow Blackjack.
The Gorgons, a race that preferred to live in swamplands and dense vegetation areas, were forced from their homelands by bandits and mercenaries. Unbeknownst to those who attacked them, the Gorgons had developed a rare paralytic venom in their swamplands, turning those who touched the liquid into living statues, remaining frozen until they died. The Gorgons retaliated viciously to the attacks on their homes and rumours spread that some even began to eat their victims as they watched in horror, unable to move.
Once the Gorgons killed their hunters, they claimed a new homeland and, in doing so, turned on innocent villagers and soldiers who resided in the claimed land, perceiving it as trespassing. They never attacked outside their lands but only they knew where their boundaries lay. Clans united to control them, the battles gruesome and bloody. Eventually the Gorgon's numbers dwindled as the fighting continued and not long after they disappeared, with many believing they had died out, their venomous weapon with them.
"Do they still have the venom?" asked Annabeth, her attention drifting to the forest territory.
"Yes."
Annabeth shuddered again. "First Arachne and now Gorgons," she muttered.
"At least there's an antidote for Arachne's venom," replied Percy, eyeing off their surroundings warily.
"You believe the whispers?" asked a sceptic Annabeth.
Percy shrugged. "Athena wouldn't twiddle her thumbs all these years and not put her children into finding one. If not them, I'm sure there's a scholar that has. I've heard that the Huntresses were working on antidotes for other common venomous animals. They could've stumbled onto something."
Annabeth shook her head. "I'd rather not risk my life on whispers."
Percy's lips quirked. "I didn't think you would. Good thing we're never going to find out, aye?"
The forest, being so vast, meant that the two of them had to make camp within its trees. Percy found a secluded section with thick trees to give them some privacy, as well as enough space between them and the Gorgon's boundary line. Annabeth nestled down, jotting down her next coded letter to Luke for when they reached the next town while Percy drifted off into the forest to check the boundary line.
There was a noise. It was faint, but it had Annabeth pausing mid-word, scanning the surrounding darkness with narrowed eyes. It could've been Percy, but he usually whistled or spoke on approach to let her know it was him. There it was again, a rustle. It could've been an animal, but something had Annabeth slowly placing her book in her bag, rising to her feet. Her eyes scanned, her hand resting on her knife hilt, ready to draw and slice at the slightest movement.
A man appeared from the shadows, his smile predator-like as Annabeth drew her knife. His clothes were haphazard; a once expensive coat, simple but dirtied shirt, hunter's boots with a mercenary's weapons belt. His dark long hair was tied back by a leather band and a light layer of dirt coated his face and hands. He whistled and several more men appeared behind him. Judging by their attire, she guessed they were pirates. Annabeth's grip tightened on her knife hilt, wondering where Percy had gotten to.
"Better put that away darlin', before you hurt someone," he drawled.
The leader strolled forward, rubbing his hands together slowly, his tongue running across his lips as he took her in. The rest of his men circled her, grinning at how helpless she seemed. Judging by the laidback way they leaned against nearby trees and the loose grip on their weapons, they didn't deem her much of a threat. She wasn't feeling confident and that confidence fell further when the speaker whistled and more of his pirates came forward, dragging Percy between them.
He was ruffled but conscious, grunting in anger as he resisted their rough grip. His cheek was red and shiny, his mouth bleeding as they forced him to his knees. His eyes met hers, a silent apology in his gaze before he snarled in anger at his captives, glaring at their leader, who smirked at the defiance. The leader turned that smirk to Annabeth, moving over to Percy, brushing his hair back until he grabbed a tuft, pulling his head back and placing a knife against his throat. He looked pointedly back at Annabeth and with a clenched jaw, she stabbed hers into the ground, stepping away and half-raising her hands.
"Now we're on the same page," he said, handing his knife to one of the pirates holding Percy. "Here's how things are gonna go. We're gonna take your stuff and be on our way. You let us leave, you'll never see us again, unless we need more stuff," he added. His companions laughed.
He made his way slowly towards Annabeth, his eyes inspecting her from top to bottom, his finger dragging across his bottom lip as he leered towards her. "You're a pretty one," he told Annabeth. Percy snarled, causing the men to either laugh or smile. "Maybe I'll take you as well."
"You can choose what items of ours you want, but leave her alone," Percy proposed, grunting angrily when the knife was pressed a little deeper into his neck.
"Are you afraid she'll prefer me over you?" he jibed, glancing briefly back to Percy before returning his attention to Annabeth. He slowly made his way toward her, his gaze turning hungry. "You're a quiet one. I don't mind that. What say you?"
Silence was one of Annabeth's best weapons. She had learnt to keep her face clear of emotion and while others threatened, coaxed or outsmarted opponents with words, she remained quiet, letting them believe she was defenceless. A half dozen scenarios had gone through Annabeth's head since they had been ambushed, each one not guaranteeing a successful outcome. The leader needed to be subdued and if she could do that, she may be able to barter with the others into releasing Percy and leaving them be.
So, Annabeth waited, unmoving even though everything urged her to run as he neared, the lustful look in his eyes making her skin crawl. Percy had quieted, due in part to the knife almost piercing his skin, but his expression was dark with bridled rage. As the leader stretched out a dirtied hand to stroke Annabeth's face, she struck, headbutting him as hard as she could. He recalled, swearing but she had turned her attention towards her knife. As he recoiled, the leader kicked it away and Annabeth was left to face the closest bandits with her fists.
She lashed out at one, striking him in the nose, watering his eyes. She turned and kicked at another, spinning to attack a third but she was too slow. He grabbed her arms, pinning them to her side as two more of his companions overwhelmed her. A banshee-like scream echoed through the campsite as she struggled to get free, but she was secured within seconds. Her eyes darted around the angered faces that watched her, her body shaking in trepidation. The leader regained some composure, but he had lost his swagger. Spitting out blood, he strode towards her, livid.
"I'm gonna enjoy watchin' the fight leave your eyes," he snarled into her face, stepping back and wiping the blood from his nose. "Hold her steady boys, and I might let you have a turn."
The grip in Annabeth's arms tightened and she struggled again, though she knew it was hopeless. Her heart beating wildly in her chest, she tried to keep her fear from showing but even she couldn't help growling a little in barely concealed terror when he licked the side of her face, his breath hot and smelling of stale ale. He smirked at discomfort, and it was that smirk that had Annabeth bringing up her knee, smashing it into his groin. He yelled in frustration and pain, while one of his goon's sucker punched her in the stomach for her attack. Her breath escaped in a loud groan and she slumped a little in their hold.
Recovering from her latest attack, the leader, snarling, grabbed her by the jaw in his dirtied hand, bringing them almost nose to nose. She could see what was to happen next was for him more vindication and dominance rather than pleasure. His fingers travelled down her stomach, stopping at her belt, when a noise from the darkness had them all stopping and turning to look.
It sounded like rolling thunder, growing in sound and intensity when it approached. The leader leapt away from Annabeth with a cry of alarm. A dozen horses galloped by the campsite, ignoring the people in it completely. Some of the men on the edge of the forest had to jump out of the way before giving chase and crying out for them to stop. Annabeth caught a glimpse of the nearest horse from the light of the fire; they were terrified. She shared a look with Percy, confirming her suspicions on what spooked them.
"What's happening?" one the pirates exclaimed, nervously rotating the spear in his hand.
"Did they just run off?"
"Nah, something spooked 'em."
"What spooks a horse?"
"How are we gonna get 'em back?"
"Shut up!" the leader ordered. Gazing after the horses and then around the camp, he looked uncomfortable and at a loss on what to do next.
"This don't feel right, boss," one of the captives holding Annabeth said.
"Yeah, let's just grab their stuff and bail," another offered.
"I'm thinkin'!" the leader snapped. He looked suspiciously at Annabeth and then to Percy, trying to work out whether they contributed to the sudden flight of their horses. Tension mounted around the camp, the bandits gazing around the forest warily, wondering if a threat was coming at them from the darker reaches, as they did to Annabeth and Percy.
"Take the stuff," the leader concluded. "Whatever is out there, can take these two instead."
The bandits got to work, taking apart the camp with haste. Percy grunted as they took his bag but said nothing as they darted off into the night. Another grabbed Annabeth's knife that was kicked astray, as well as Percy's sword and their cloaks. The leader, wiping his nose again, picked up Annabeth's bag, pulling out her notebook that was sitting at the very top. Thrumming through the pages, she snapped.
"No, you can't have that!"
Annabeth gave one last effort to break free but one of her captors had grown tired of restraining her. As the leader turned towards her after her outburst, one of the other pirates stepped forward and hit the side of her temple with the butt of his sword. Annabeth lost consciousness, slumping in their grasp.
