As always, these characters do not belong to me.


Chapter Ten

Percy recoiled from the punch with a gasp of pain and surprise, his feet stumbling on a stray stone. He fell heavily to the ground, his hands reaching for his nose instead of breaking his fall.

"What was that for?" he asked, his voice obscured from his hand clutching his nose.

"Why'd you kiss me?" she demanded, not answering his question.

"I don't know," he replied sarcastically. "Why does one kiss someone else?" He grunted in pain again, pulling his hand away to see if there was any blood. "I think you nearly broke my nose," he accused.

"Well you should ask someone before you just assault them like that," she said angrily.

Percy choked out a laugh. "Oh, now I assaulted you?" He shook his head, getting to his feet. "I'm sorry, I obviously read this wrong."

He turned his back and walked to Blackjack, hopping up into the saddle in one fluid movement. He grabbed the reins of their spare horse, clicking softly to get them walking. He didn't look back to check if she was following, and she couldn't blame him. Annabeth stared after him, wholly embarrassed for her actions, before copying his movements, her and Silver Mist trailing after them.

Why did she punch him? Because she panicked. Because she desperately wanted to return his kiss and that scared her. She hadn't planned for this, for these feelings to seep in and settle inside of her, growing with every day she spent with her black haired, green eyed companion. Her eyes moved to watch his back, at his striking profile, averting her gaze when she felt the yearning grow. She tried to think of Luke, of the years pining over him, but that just didn't feel real any longer.

Annabeth was troubled, the turmoil that was her feelings threatening to overwhelm her as they continued along the road. She should say something to him. Explain why she reacted to strangely to his kiss but the longer they rode, the less confident she was. Was it pride that kept her lips closed? Yes, she supposed it was. Her pride had caused her many problems, but it was who she was, and she wasn't about to change that; especially not for some boy that she had a crush on, and that was all it was ... wasn't it?

The afternoon sun was slowly setting, a plain set out before them as they slowed their horses to a walk. Two riders started to come over the hill ahead of them, pausing in their travels. A challenge cry echoed across the field from the rider on the left. They brandished a spear in the air, calling out again. Annabeth drew her knife in resignation, but Percy reached across and placed a steady hand on hers. She looked at him, her stomach lurching a little at the contact.

"There's no need for that," he said with a quirk of his lips. He quickly removed his hand from hers. Annabeth tried not to read into it too much. "It's just how she says hello."

"She?" queried Annabeth as she clicked Silver Mist to follow Percy.

The two approaching riders paused a few feet away from them, dropping down from their horses to approach. The left rider … well, Annabeth almost did a double take. The challenger, a woman, towered over Annabeth, with her mousy brown hair cut haphazardly. The longer, stringy bits were pulled very messily away from her face with a thick leather band. She had ripped the sleeves from her shirt, revealing her thick muscled arms. A spear rested proudly at her side, it's blade long and elegantly crafted with strands of different materials at its hilt. Annabeth noted the Arenian custom.

The companion, a man, had a friendly smile, with wavy black hair and warm brown eyes. He was armoured with a simple leather breastplate and bracers, unlike his Arenian companion whose armour shone brightly in the dimming afternoon sun. He was also armed with a spear, but his was strapped at his back. It too, was elegant but where hers boasted, his was simple in design.

"Geez, you're slow," the woman complained to Percy. Her voice was a rough grumble. "We've been waiting for three days!"

"It's only been a day and Clarisse has spent it the majority of it in the tavern," her companion interjected. He grasped Percy's arm with a friendly smile, introducing himself to Annabeth as Chris before turning back to Percy. "She was insistent we meet with you after we got the message."

"We aren't missing out on the fun like we did last time," Clarisse declared, scowling at Percy. "If you take that little angry kid and his weakling archer over me again, I'll gut you."

Percy sighed. It appeared he'd had this argument before, multiple times. "I didn't take Nico and Will, I just met up with them and I don't plan on taking anyone else with me this time."

Clarisse's eyes narrowed, her mouth opening to reply but her partner cut her off. "We understand," he said, meeting Clarisse's quelling stare with a calm one. She huffed and glanced away. "How about we head back to the town and get something to eat, drink and rest. You guys look like you need it," he added, observing them.

"So, this is the Elite who thinks she can steal the Crystal," stated Clarisse. Her eyes roamed over Annabeth, sizing her up. Annabeth glared at her, a smirk on her lips almost daring this Arenian to try and challenge her. Clarisse smiled in response. "I think I'm going to like you, girl. Let's go and get a drink and you can tell me how you managed to get stuck with that soft lump over there," she said, gesturing to Percy, who rolled his eyes.

The town sat just on the other side of the hill and soon Annabeth was being supplied with tankard after tankard in the closest tavern. One, Chris supplied dryly, that Clarisse was yet to be banned from, though she was on her last chance. Clarisse ignored him, insisting that if Annabeth wasn't going to answer any of her questions about her task, then she should at least describe her best fights and the scars that went with them. Annabeth glanced towards Percy, who sat silently across from her with an amused smile on his face, hidden behind his own tankard. Arenians were all the same, she thought with a slight shake of her head.

As the night settled in and dinner was served, Clarisse and Percy drifted off towards a game of dice with the same mischievous grin playing on their lips, leaving Annabeth sitting with Chris, who watched his partner with an exasperated worried expression.

"Percy didn't mention us, did he?" asked Chris.

Annabeth, a little buzzed from the several tankards she had drunk in rapid succession, took a minute before she realised Chris was talking to her. "We haven't exactly had heart-to-heart conversations," admitted Annabeth. "I haven't encouraged it, if I'm honest."

"All business, right?" guessed Chris. "I can assume that's due to Luke's insistence? He never could find a lighter side."

"You knew Luke?"

"We grew up together. There was so much expectation placed on him, even at a young age," Chris told her. "He was constantly told he could do better, be better, even when he had given everything. I may not have had a great childhood, but I never envied his."

Annabeth fell silent, staring into her cup. She had never known that about Luke, but it gave light to his decision-making. She moved her gaze to Chris, who drank deeply. She could see a shadow pass across his face, demons trying to surface with his memories. There was a twitch to his fingers, a muscle flickering against his jaw as he contained his emotions. Just as Annabeth went to ask if he was okay, he took another drink and breath, erasing whatever haunts came to light.

"I have to say," Chris began, trying to lighten the mood. "It's great to finally have a fellow mead drinker amongst the ranks. I can't tell you how insufferable having to constantly consume ale is. I mean, Pollux will brew pretty much anything but will always try to get you to have wine. Is Castor still with the Elites?"

"Died, last autumn," said Annabeth, surprised that Chris knew him.

Annabeth hadn't known him all that well and didn't rank him highly because of his drinking habits and less than stellar fighting record. She hadn't gone to his funeral, but she had been told that death happened often to those who had not trained hard enough and they didn't deserve tears or grief. She had lived by those words being Luke's, but she her mind jumped to the family they had met on the road, of the other villagers escaping to find a new way of life and began to wonder whether she could live by something else.

"Shame," said Chris, toasting his cup skyward, oblivious to her inner thoughts. "I would've like to have seen what those two could've brewed at the village."

"What's it like at your village?" she asked curiously.

"Like a big, riotous family," he answered with a warm smile. "We sort of came together when we were all looking for a peaceful place to call home. A couple of people wandered in at first and since then we've had others that trickled in from all over. We've been able to build a foundation and just add to it whenever someone else decides to settle down. It helped that Percy was a mercenary beforehand, and he met a lot of them in his travels and sent word. That's how Pollux came to us and the Stolls, Silena, Piper, Leo. Others, like Clarisse and me, and Percy's Rachel, found it by chance."

Annabeth's fingers slipped a little on her cup. She felt like she was going to be sick. Why did this bother her? Chris specifically said Rachel was 'Percy's' and it wasn't as though she hadn't already met one of the women he had previously been with. But the way Chris had said her name, and the casual way he coupled them together ... If they were in a relationship, then why did he kiss her? Percy strode over, taking a seat next to Chris and Annabeth tried to appear nonchalant, finishing the contents of her tankard.

"Where's Clarisse?" Chris asked, oblivious to what he had sparked in Annabeth.

"Said something about 'raising the stakes'," replied Percy, eyeing the two of them with a frown as he took a drink.

Chris looked resigned. "Excuse me," he said, weaving his way back to where Percy had come from.

"Raising the stakes?" queried Annabeth, trying to push aside her emotions.

"It's Arenian for, 'this is boring, I am going to make it interesting'," answered Percy with a wry grin. "Everything okay? You look pale."

Annabeth glanced passed him, her eyes falling on Chris. He shoulders hunched, his agitation causing a hand to run through his hair as he searched for Clarisse. She thought of his reaction when Luke's name was mentioned and decided to focus on that instead of the other topic her heart yearned for her to voice.

"The further I go, the more I realise how little I know about Luke," she admitted quietly after a pause. "It never used to bother me, because I had my own secrets but …"

Percy's look was one of understanding. He drummed his fingers on his cup. "Luke runs on a need-to-know basis. Chris is the perfect example of that."

"What happened to him? He never said, but I could tell it was something significant."

"He went mad," said Percy grimly. "Tried to help Luke but went into the situation blind and came out crazed. The Arenians captured him, used him for sport until Clarisse put a stop to it." He smiled a little at the thought. "For such a little imagination, she was one of the only ones who saw through Chris' mad antics. She saw a human in pain and decided to do something about it, even if was against the wishes of her people. She helped him escape her tribe, found a healer: who is a wine maker if you can believe it? And they've stayed together since."

Annabeth's eyes narrowed, hearing the double meaning. "I'm not going in blind," she stated flatly.

"I never said you were," he replied lightly but his eyes hardened.

Annabeth scoffed. "You're not as clever as you think you are."

"I could say the same about you," he countered.

Annabeth bristled, taking a deep breath. Settling some of her aggression, she argued, "you have your friends here, and I'm assuming it's because you're expected to return to your precious village. I have all that I need to finish my task. I think it's time we went our separate ways."

Percy's jaw clenched. "Is that what you want?"

The honest answer to his question wasn't one she wanted to voice or admit to herself. She couldn't look at him, but she could feel his piercing glare directed at her. She hadn't meant to start an argument, her jealousy the main instigator. Annabeth hadn't cared when she met Reyna, hadn't really put much thought into the other women Percy had been with but maybe her jealous self had a point. Maybe if she put some distance between the two of them, it would dissipate these rising conflicting feelings.

Percy exhaled loudly, causing Annabeth to face him. She could see him regaining some of his composure, as she had done moments before. "We've had a bit to drink," he conceded. "We should pick this conversation up in the morn –."

"Who's Rachel?" Annabeth blurted out. She froze, realising what she said.

Percy blinked. "Rachel? Wha – Chris," he muttered. He frowned towards Chris' vacant chair before sighing. "Rachel was my partner. Gee must be about a year ago now that she left," he remarked in surprise. "I had always seen her around. When I was a mercenary, she would always just appear in the towns I was passing through. I knew it was her because of her bright red hair. We would never talk but she seemed to watch me. Every time I went to speak with her, she would disappear and eventually I used to just smile at her from afar.

"I had forgotten about her once we started building our village but then, one day she walked in. Straight down the road," he chuckled at the memory. "And then she was just there. In my life, at my side. She was always cryptic, saying things that didn't always make sense at the time, but there was something about her that I trusted."

"What did she say?" Annabeth prompted.

Percy grinned. "Her and I together was only temporary. We would be happy but there was someone else out there I would love more than her, more than anyone else; if things went the way they were supposed to," he added with a disbelieving snort.

"What things are supposed to happen?"

Percy shrugged. "No idea. I told you, she was very cryptic."

"Was she a seer?"

Annabeth had heard rumours of seers but had never encountered one. She was rather sceptic of those who claimed to receive visions, often proclaiming they were sent to ensure all preordained events happened according to some grand scheme. Annabeth often referred to it as 'far-fetched lunacy'.

Percy shrugged again. "Some of the things she said couldn't make sense with any other explanation. Despite that, we were pretty happy for a while until one day she announced that she had to leave. It was time, she said. She needed to fulfil her duty and, then just, left. She had warned me, but it still stung. It was never dull with Rach, and I enjoyed the time I had with her."

"You never went after her?"

"I wanted to," he admitted. "But I knew she wouldn't have wanted me to. So, I respected her wishes and let her go. I keep an ear out for people mentioning her, or at least her description so I know she's at least alive and well. Last I heard she was somewhere south of here, probably around the time you found me at the fighting pit. Why did you want to know about Rachel?"

"Oh …"

Annabeth's infallible brain was failing her. She scrambled for an answer, a convincing one, but she was wilting under the pressure of his gaze. He looked at first expectant, then confused, then as he slowly went through the options in his mind, a little stunned. His eyes widened, a smile slowly spreading across his wondrous expression as he came to an answer she could only assumed was the right one. Annabeth felt her face heat, her heart beat a little faster in embarrassment. His mouth opened when a crash came from the other side of the room. The two of them lurched to their feet after hearing Clarisse's bellowing challenge.

"Not good," Percy stated.

Percy and Annabeth joined the fray as Chris was thrown towards them, landing on a bench and crashing to the ground. He was scolding Clarisse as he leapt to his feet, grabbing plates and cups and smashing them against anyone that charged at him. Annabeth had always thought herself as a classy fighter with finesse and composure, so it surprised her to realise that she enjoyed their tavern brawl. She leapt up onto a table to avoid a wild swing, dancing along the tabletops kicking cups and plates to distract the fighters. She had copped a few more hits than she normally would, and she blamed her slight drunken state.

Annabeth was still atop on one of the tables when the brawl ended. She glanced around at the destruction, taking in deep breaths. Percy was far too her left, an upended table between him and three unconscious men. Chris was to her immediate right, though he was on the floor, wiping at a bloody nose as he gazed exasperatingly at Clarisse. Annabeth wasn't sure how Clarisse ended up on the other side of the tavern, but she could only assume giving the groaning bodies in her wake and her light chuckles that it was eventful.

"I should've started drinking with you earlier, soft lump," Clarisse guffawed at Percy, gazing around at the destruction with satisfaction.

"Um, how is this any of my doing?" Percy demanded.

"That guy, no wait, that one," she pointed to one of the unconscious men. "Thought you had stolen his coins when you left the table."

"Why?" he demanded.

"Cause I told him you did," she answered with a laugh. She walked over to the man she pointed out, standing over him with satisfaction. "Truthfully, he was just a woeful dice player. You make for a good scapegoat. Much better than Chris."

She lifted her head and grinned at Percy across the room. At the same time, the man at Clarisse's feet sprung up. She recoiled in surprise as Chris shouted her name, but the man drove a steak knife into her shoulder. Percy was the quickest to react, throwing a jug towards them. Clarisse caught it in her right hand, driving it hard into the man's head and sending him crashing to the ground with the shards of the jug. Silence fell, the three of them gazing wide eyed at Clarisse, who stood frozen with the knife protruding from her shoulder.

She glanced down at it in surprise, then back to them with the same dumbstruck expression, then back to the knife. "Not again," she complained loudly.


The events in the tavern had consequently caused the owner and the remaining conscious guards to remove the four of them from the establishment. Clarisse wasn't fazed by the eviction, merely pulling the knife from her shoulder, tossing it onto a table and telling the owner that he would want her back eventually. The four of them moved out into the street, Chris fussing over Clarisse's injury, who despite complaining about him mothering her, let him inspect the wound as they walked.

Annabeth took deep breaths of the cool night air, trying to sober up. She snuck a glance at Percy, who had lifted his head to the stars, his eyes closed, smiling serenely. Feeling her gaze, he turned to her, but his expression was clouded in shadows, making it too difficult to read. She averted her eyes, staring out at the night life of the town instead, hoping she wasn't blushing. The minutes before the tavern brawl was still weighing very heavily on her mind.

Clarisse declared loudly of a tavern at the opposite end of the town that would grant them entry, in between her argument with Chris about bandaging her shoulder. Percy, surprised that any tavern still permitted her entry, was given a brief explanation that the owner had a soft spot for Arenians, Chris admitting that despite the fact he would have to purchase new furniture after every Arenian guest, they more than made up for it in the consumption of ale. Percy laughed, seemingly back to his lighter self.

While the other three headed into the already full tavern and towards the bar, Annabeth diverted up the stairs to the overlooking balcony she had spotted, ignoring the sleeping drunkard at the corner. She leant her elbows against the rail, the breeze kissing her face. Sulking wasn't her style, but she needed some space. The bar fight had been a distraction, but she couldn't just fight everyone when her feelings were too wired. She rubbed her eyes. This task had turned out so much more complicated than she could imagine.

Sighing and pulling her hands away, she wondered how she was going to tell Percy she couldn't start a relationship with him. It was a crush, she assured herself, trying to convince herself so that she may be able to do the same for him. He was giving her attention, and Luke never did and that was it. If Luke gave her the same attention, she would choose him … she was pretty sure she would, okay, sort of sure, maybe she would … Annabeth shook her head and growled in frustration. This was not how an Elite fighter should be thinking. The Crystal, she needed to get that, relationships be damned.

Someone whistled from below, and out of habit, Annabeth glanced towards the sound. She straightened, her attention snagged as the whistler smirked at her, deliberately moving towards the shadows, glancing back as she disappeared. Annabeth was halfway down the stairs in her next breath, pushing past people to the door, striding towards the shadows with her cloak swishing behind her. Pausing briefly once darkness engulfed her, she let her eyes adjust, setting off towards a dim light on the other side of the buildings.

She didn't have to travel far to find her whistler. They stood in a ring around their leader, their faces shadowed by the hood of their cloaks, only revealing their faces when Annabeth came into view. Not that she needed the dramatics; she knew who they were just by catching sight of their cloaks. Annabeth suppressed her growl of indignation but let the whistler know exactly what she felt of her being in the village. The woman, Drew, with her perfectly styled hair, manicured hands and painted face, smiled sweetly; it was a shame that sweetness never reached her personality.

"Elite's finest fighter," crooned Drew. "Always a pleasure to be in your presence, or so I've heard."

"What are you doing here?" Annabeth asked in a hard voice.

"Luke sent us," Drew said happily. "He's grown impatient with your progress. We're here to help."

"I don't need any assistance," she stated flatly.

Drew's smile widened, as if she was expecting her answer. "From where I'm standing, you're beyond our help." Drew chuckled as she took in Annabeth's appearance. "Seriously, what kind of second grade armour are you wearing?"

"Tell Luke I will retrieve the Crystal in the coming days, and I will do so, alone."

Drew's laugh echoed around them, even some of her companions smirked or guffawed at Annabeth's request. "We're not going anywhere," Drew stated. "It's about time someone else stood at Luke's side. I mean, I share his bed, why not his rule?"

Annabeth clenched her jaw, hating the knowing smile playing on Drew's lips. Annabeth had always suspected Drew knew Annabeth's feelings towards their leader; if the snide comments and pointed glances were any indication. Annabeth had never liked her, not since her arrival with the Elites and sleeping with Luke didn't make it better. Drew was expecting her to bite, or fight, but Annabeth would do neither.

"Goodbye Drew," said Annabeth, turning around to leave.

"Before you run inside," Drew called out. Annabeth paused but didn't turn around. "You should know we were given an extra order."

Annabeth, taking a deep breath, turned back around. "What order?" she asked, taking the bait.

"Luke wasn't convinced with your excuses," began Drew, casually moving around her group. "He believes your alliances have changed." Annabeth tried to keep her face blank. "So, to make sure that doesn't stick, we're to kill your boy toy."

"Luke urged me to find him!" spat Annabeth. Her shock coating the venom of her voice.

"He deeply regrets that. I think he used the term, 'blinded', totally can see why he is a babe," she added. Annabeth's nostrils flared at the comment, more than her other comment about Luke's bed buddy. "Anyway, I thought I would give you a choice, just to sweeten it. We can either kill him, or," she said dramatically. "We will kill everyone in this pathetic little town."

"You can't massacre an entire town!" said Annabeth aghast.

"Of course we can. After all, we're doing this for the greater good." Drew stopped walking when she was a foot or so away from Annabeth, her guard not too far behind her. "Luke said we are to achieve our orders by any means necessary. Hurry up and choose, we haven't got all night."

Annabeth felt sick. Had she really thought like them? Thought that killing innocent townspeople could be justified by a few words? She was set up. Choose the villagers and she would be branded a traitor, but her heart stuttered at the thought of Percy's name leaving her lips. She looked at each of the Elites, her brothers and sisters and then to Drew, whose dark piercing eyes looked expectant. There had to be another option, and Annabeth just needed a few minutes to figure it out. With a deep breath, and hoping she would be given that time, she gave her answer.