Faint Hearts Never Won Fair Lady

by Average Canadian

Under a corrupt King, the land of Genousa has fallen on hard times. The poor's only hope is the quick-witted outlaw nicknamed 'The Raven'. Percy hadn't intended for his thieving to get so far. He's only a romantic idiot trying to get the girl he loves to love him back. OR the one where Percy has stolen just about everything, except for Annabeth's heart. Oneshot. Percabeth.

I started writing this in April 2017 and always kept it in my drafts because I just wanted to complete it one day. Granted what I thought would be 'completed' was a 140,000 word story but I opted to cut major things and just tie it up into a one shot. Plus, 90% of it was completed at like four in the morning so it's definitely flowery worded and a bit cheesy but that may be the reason I love it so much.

It's fluffy. And I haven't really allowed myself to simply write fluffy pieces. There's always severe angst somewhere in my work.

This one… not much.

I really hope you like it.

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Faint Hearts Never Won Fair Lady

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It was a clink of a sound.

Breaths being held.

Shadows moving in the night.

"Oh my." Sarcastic snickers. "What an elegant pair of earrings. We must have them."

"The candlesticks look utterly divine, it would be a sin to leave without them."

"The old man couldn't be seen with these rusty old coins now could he?"

"Of course he couldn't. We ought to leave him the copper ones though."

Whispers, mutters, chuckles mingled in the stale night air. Drawers being drawn back, boxes being shuffled through, dainty steps and careful precision. Shadows flickered in the pale moonlight that gushed in through the heavily draped windows.

"I think we've taken our fill." The black haired prowess spun a single glinting coin between her slender fingers. Smirking devilishly through the darkness at her own remark with a twinkle in her sky blue eyes.

"You mean what we can carry and get away with," the man snorted. The smooth gaze of his enchanting green eyes danced around the room in a final scan. Rich fabrics of the curtains and rugs were the only expenses left. Crystals had been chipped from the chandeliers, money stuffed away, jewelry pocketed, and every valuable decorative item was neatly stuffed into their laiden leather bags.

"Soldiers." Another muttered from the window. His back stooped like that of a disgruntled cat as he perched on the sill. His deep black eyes glued to the forms of stiff royal pawns as they made their normal patrol around. Unknowingly passing crime in progress.

"I suppose we should leave then." The leader said. Grinning triumphantly at his companions for another victory against the kingdom.

"After you." His friend opened the mahogany paned window broadly. Gesturing to the opening as if he were presenting the King himself with a carriage.

"Keep an eye out Perce," the girl warned warily as she hopped out the window. He could see the weight of her bag define a crease in her shoulder. To be truthful, he already felt the burn in his own shoulder.

"Please. I'm the Raven," Percy brushed her comment off breezily. "I'm made of smoke and travel on the whispers of heinous words. Remember?"

"Don't let those maid tales go to your head," Nico huffed above a whisper. Easing his way to the edge of the sloped roof to look over.

"I won't." Percy, again, waved them off. Lightly taking to his feet as he briskly scrambled up to the peak of the roof. "Now let's get to home base."

It was like falling into a dance. Ginger footsteps and graceful jumps allowed them to effortlessly, and silently glide over the wealthy neighborhood of Genousa. Percy enjoyed the breeze against his face and the thrill in his chest. One hand was solemnly clasped around the lip of his bag to avoid the contents from clanging together.

The crisp night had a tingle of warmth, promising the arrival of summer. Or maybe it was just the bittersweet air, dank with stench from farmers tilling and planting their fields that spoke of warmer days. Fresh earth and manure, a staple smell in Genousa.

Percy took one breathless moment to survey his world. The landscape of rustic shingled rooftops before them seemed unearthly with the blue moonlight. A spark seared a smirk back up on his face before he joined his cousins and dropped into the alley. Hitting the cobbled ground with the grace of a large pawed lioness.

Their heavy breaths were pressed into eachothers shoulders as they waited silently, cramped against the wall. Knowing the drill by heart. Knowing when the officers shifted at the gate, and the blind spot they could sneak through. Percy counted silently as he watched the dead still shadows and breathed a few silent prayers. Telling himself over and over that they would all make it through again. They always had.

He felt the leather hem of his bag again. Sparkling with electricity at its bulk. This bounty would be enough for an entire city block to live for a year, taxes included. Taking into account the poorest and the most needy of the city and doubling the distribution population, the efforts from that night would equal to an entire month of dry shelter, hardy food, and warm clothes.

There was a certain orphanage on the outer wall that really would benefit from this. For far too long they had dealt with a leaky roof and empty cupboards. The only thing they ever had proper supply of was mini coffins made from spare wood. He couldn't wait to see their faces when he piled a mountain of gold onto their dirt floors.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Perce. It's time." Thalia brought him out of the daze he'd slipped into. Jabbing him roughly in the side with her elbow, she glared at him with an unimpressed demeanor. An expression she only wore whenever she caught him daydreaming about unearned success. It made his cheeks crest pink.

"I make the calls," he grumbled. It was always so embarrassing when she did that. He wasn't a fan of being undermined.

"Then make them and get us all safely out of here." Thalia pointedly glanced at the bags.

"Yes. Right. Sorry," he said while organizing his thoughts. Taking a quick peek out of the alley to the entrance of the outer ring of the kingdom. Separated by a tall, slightly disjointed wall of gray stone and thick iron. A shift in the guards left a tiny gap in time and the lack of silhouettes was all he needed.

"Now." It was always the word they acted on. No countdowns, no premeditated words. Once Percy decided it was time, it was time, so you better be on your toes.

Nimbly they charged the gate. Silent as the grave and holding their heartbeats close as their solid footsteps fell quickly against the cobble of the rich ring. A knot started to form in Percy's throat when they broke apart and pressed their backs to the grime of the wall. No flickering shadows in sight.

They're taking unusually long...

Percy took a chance to glance back, his leather mask felt thick and hot against his forehead for the first time that night. He didn't like this uneasiness.

Nothing was there. The night was as quiet and as cold as the northern tundra of Enderson. A night was never as quiet as this amongst the upper class. Late parties and boisterous bars held all the social aristocrats. Eager to loosen their bursting purse strings on games and gambles to have a good time. On the outskirts of the middle ring was especially booming with aristocrats who were fleeing their wives for a night. But not tonight.

Why not tonight?

"Now." He barely had to speak. His cousins were by his side in a second as they scaled the wrought iron gate. The burden of their treasures was lightened by the adrenaline pumping through their systems. The cold bars under their fingertips only encouraged them as they could taste the air of home.

When Percy reached the tip of the gate he vaulted himself over. The wind hissed in his ears as he dropped straight to the packed earth below. Absorbing the impact by barrel rolling forward. Nico and Thalia flanked behind him. He found the breath to curse when a sprinkle of jewels slipped from a rip in his bag. Glittering against the dirt in the pale moonlight like droplets of dragon sweat.

"Leave them," Thalia commanded under her breath just as he stooped down to swipe them up.

There she went again. He prickled at her bossing.

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "The Raven does not leave evidence."

"Stop referring to yourself in third person," Nico said in a bored voice.

With a few sweeps of his fingers he'd collected every last jewel and returned it to his bag. Aware that they were out in the open, exposed to unfriendly eyes for far too long. Deer in an open field had more of a chance then them.

No alarm? No one has seen us? A worm of disappointment curled in his gut. It grew from his stark craving for a glitch, a mess up. The cry of recognition at his black leather garbs and mysterious mask. The rush of people at them, the sound of a chase as it fell into place. The feeling of his heart in his ears and the sound of footsteps hammering after him with the clank of metal armor.

He would never invoke a chase, heavens forbid. He was adventurous, sure, but he wasn't reckless. But great heavens when the world decided to be peaceful and soft towards him did he ever miss the chaos.

"It's so quiet," Thalia murmured as they moved along the bordering wall. Its cold stone surface was rough and snagged at any cloth garments unfortunate to brush against it. Still, they stuck as close to it as possible. Hiding from the watchtower in one of the few precious blind spots there were.

"Too quiet," Percy agreed. Cautiously, he let his eyes roam. The feeling of dread built in his stomach, puzzling through the inconsistencies slowly.

Sure, he longed for a chase but not this. A chase was fun, wild, addictive. The anticipation of a chase was simply sweat inducing, and nothing more.

Usually he could hear the somber grumblings of sleepy guards on the wall. Usually he could hear footsteps of peasants scurrying home, or of soldiers patrolling through the streets. Usually the world had more sound than this. More colour.

The breath left him in a simple puff. He stopped so suddenly that he felt Thalia brush against his back. Her surprised profanities were stifled by his knowing chortle.

"It's an ambush," he uttered. "The square is the perfect attack point."

"What?" Thalia said. "That's impossible. How would they know where we're headed?"

"Surely not everyone is asleep when we sneak back in," Percy reasoned. "A few locals must've seen our route by just glancing out of the window."

"But how would the guards find out?" Thalia's eyebrows scrunched. "The locals love us, they would never betray us."

"Unless threatened," Percy breathed. His coil of hatred for this damn kingdom roared in his gut. His gloved hands curled into creaking fists as the rage bubbled over. Just the image of those big mouthed, heavy pursed soldiers demanding information from the outer ring people made his stomach fill with boiling lead and made his lips peel back in a disgusted snarl.

"Take the loot, skirt around Bard's Pub and meet me at the Gutter," Percy said. An underlying ring of acid locked in his tone as his gaze hardened on the wall. Determination pulsing in his green eyes.

"You can't take down an entire ambush, you idiot." Thalia reached out to smack him over the head, but Percy was quicker.

With a dead expression he caught her hand by the wrist and gave her a no nonsense look.

"I'm not taking them down," he said. Furrowing his dark eyebrows as he set his gaze in the direction he had to go again. Scoping for any signs of danger. "I'm putting them off."

From behind her mask, Thalia rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh. "Get yourself killed, and I'll never talk to you again. Got it?"

"Sure, whatever." Percy shouldered off his thick leather sack and heaved it over to Thalia. She paused long enough to glare at him one last time before taking it from him. A wary glitter in her sky blue eyes.

"Don't die."

"Wouldn't even dream of it." Percy lipped coolly. Stoking the unquenched hatred for the kingdom in preparation. "Can't assure some soldiers will live to see their families again."

"The Raven foils ambush," Nico mused quietly, without much emotion. "Or maybe they'll be talking about 'the Raven flops'."

"Encouraging." Percy deadpanned.

"I'm a realist, not an optimist. Hang me."

"I just might."

.oOo.

Percy was right, naturally.

As soon as he neared the square, he could see the signs of concealed soldiers, readying themselves to spring at a moment's notice. Crumpled weeds in an alleyway, old barrels and lopsided wooden crates built up as if to hide something, windows with drawn curtains and inconspicuous eyes poking through.

He wished he could clamber up the side of these rickety buildings to get a better view of the place. Everything was simpler when it was laying in front of you like a map. The problem was that roofs in the outer ring were almost always thatched. Made of sapling and straw. A few occasional wooden roofs could be attained by the truly booming businesses such as the pub, or the butchers, but they were liable to break at the drop of a hat.

Instead, Percy sidled up to the scratchy side of the first darkened house as he stayed huddled in the shadows. A whispering murmur reached his ringing ears from inside its paper thin walls. Gruff laughs and salty complaints being passed around in a circle that seemed to have no more than three.

Soldiers?

There was another cluster huddled in an alleyway, a crew of them tucked behind a market booth, and finally a duo watching the square with as much intensity as the rest of them were.

Percy wasn't going to bother himself with the hay pennies and cents of this assembly. If you wanted to bring down a beast, you went for the head of it. Cut it off at the neck.

Nobody would notice if he attacked just one group of them.

That was the problem with these soldiers, they were so busy watching the square that they forgot to watch each other.

Nimbly, Percy skirted through the backstreets, and under shadow ladened eaves. A ready hand already clutched on the hilt of his sword, Riptide, as he worked the labyrinth of streets around the square until he was in a certain alleyway. An obvious lookout point for someone who needed to see everyone. Sure enough the duo was still there, intently gazing out from behind a corner.

The first soldier's helmet was crested, and his suit of armor was more refined and polished than all the others. He had a regal sort of stance that dominated his companions' weak stoop. As Captain of the Royal Guard should be.

His large chestnut horse stood idle deeper in the alleyway. A nicker rumbled from the equine's throat when it saw Percy. It prodded the ground nervously like a warning before its owner wheeled around in realization. His single eye widening at the lethal sight of Percy shrouded in darkness but it was too late.

By then, Percy already had Riptide level with his throat.

"Ethan Nakamura," he greeted with a pleasant smile. "Waiting for something?"

"Raven," the Knight sneered coldly. A ready hand on the hilt of his sword, but not daring to draw it out into the cold brittle air. He knew his chances, and he was wisely keeping low.

His companion, a young stickly boy with pale blue eyes and a splash of unorchestrated freckles, scrambled for his blade before Percy chuckled darkly and changed targets.

"I wouldn't." He warned in a villainous tone. The boy's eyes widened almost comically and his knees shook incessantly. The insufferable rattling from his armor only irked Percy more. How anyone could stand the sound of metal on metal was beyond him.

Percy returned his sword back to the crook of Ethan's throat, the only area exposed from the hang of his chainmail.

Ethan's jaw tightened in frustration, Percy assumed. They're little dance of good and evil had been at play for as long as Percy had been a thief. It must've been infuriating to be one-upped so often. Then again, Ethan's pitch black eyepatch blocked out a decent chunk of his face and made him look perpetually displeased. Maybe Percy had never learned to read his emotions just right.

"So, Raven." Ethan simmered. "How'd you know about our stake out?"

"A little bird told me." Percy grinned mirthlessly. "So I had to come and see for myself if you were still so arrogant as to lay a trap for me. Has our sweet past together taught you nothing dearest?"

"I guess I can assume my troop is dead." Ethan spat. "You barbarian."

"Actually…" Percy shrugged. "No. Didn't bother this time. Too much effort, not enough gain."

"That's never stopped you in the past."

"I'm sorry darling. I promise to kill lots and lots of your men next time we have a date. I'm just tired tonight."

"You vile beast-"

"You feather brained minstrel." Percy shot back just as quickly.

"H-halt!" the young soldier stuttered out as bravely as he could. Standing straight despite his trembling legs. "Only-only the king is ordained in the r-right to t-to kill!"

Percy cocked his head at the shrimpy boy. "Good god, it speaks."

"Leave him." Ethan warned Percy. "He is merely a squire, not yet proven for knighthood."

Smiling wider, Percy swung his sword around and allowed the tip to find its way under the boy's thin and pointed chin. Keenly, he watched as Ethan's 'squire' threw his gangly arms up in a pathetic act of surrender.

"Well he's giving his best lot for knighthood, isn't he? You. Boy. What's your name?" Percy demanded with a curious tilt of his head.

"C-Clyde Armontiff," he wheezed.

"Well Clyde, I'm going to give you two options." Percy decided while sending a wary glance in Ethan's direction. A loose idea in his head as his grin broadened. "You can either desert the army right now, or I can kill you."

"Desert?" He whispered brokenly. "But they'll kill me if I desert."

"And I'll kill you if you don't." Percy shrugged nonchalantly. "Delicious predicament, isn't it?"

The boy quivered more, and Percy felt almost sorry for him. He'd rather have this little squirt fleeing officials, then have to come across him in the future. He was too young to be in that suit of armor playing almost-knight. He couldn't be any older than sixteen. Obviously it was a title thrust upon him by his high ranking parents, or aristocratic family. People up there loved to boast about the good doings of their little soldier boys.

"C'mon," he urged while tapping the sharp tip of his icy blade against Clyde's adam's apple. "Haven't got all day."

Desert. He hoped. Desert in front of your commander. Show him the cowardice of his own men.

Ethan, for once, took on a likeness of distress. His single eye was full of a hidden worry as he kept his gaze straight and his face blank. His white skin was unusually pale as he seemed to be waiting for Percy to get the dirty work done. However, he made no attempt to stop Percy. He knew that the moment he made a move for his blade, his blood would be flooding the ground in thick sticky waves.

They'd been in this position before.

"No." Clyde whispered rather suddenly. An abrupt and unforeseen twist of courage in the boy's eyes as he fought to keep his posture straight.

"...Huh," Percy muttered at him in surprise. A spasm of shivers triapsed down his spine as his victim squirmed with tears doubling over the curves of his face. Thick wet tracks that glinted in the moonlight, making Percy almost sympathetic to the upper ring scum.

"No. I'd… I'd rather d-die in d-dignity than in disgrace."

His words were riddled with trembles of terror and cracks in his voice, but he held his eyes up and strong as if to take the fate that had been offered to him.

"Huh," Percy repeated as he stood back with a sliver of admiration for the boy. "Alright."

He leveled Riptide's blade with Ethan again. "Clyde can live. However, you, Ethan, will have a helluva good time preparing a special place in hell for me."

Clyde looked rather stumped at this. Ethan looked… relieved. Percy had to blink twice to believe it but yes, as it turns out Ethan Nakamura did have a shred of humanity in him. The knight caught himself, and instantly his features slackened. A cold glare passing between him and Clyde as if to make up for the sudden slip of empathy.

"It's your pride that keeps you from winning in the long run." Ethan sighed carelessly. A humorless element in his eyes as he glared at Percy sharply. "You always put on a big show, and that's what got you the name Raven. It's not your cleverness, or how you see things from above, or the ridiculous black outfit. It's the way you dance in front of your enemies like a bird dances in a mirror."

"You're in no place to anger me." Percy retorted with his jaw clamped. Trying to keep down the burning flames of hatred that Ethan was currently stoking. "May I remind you of how we're situated?"

He jabbed the tip of his sword sharply into the soft flesh of Ethans pale neck. Deep enough to spring a weak stream of sluggish blood, but shallow enough that it wouldn't kill him.

"I am not afraid to die," Ethan snarled. "Soon enough our ruler will pass judgment on you."

"His royal majesty can go drown in his treasury for all I care." Percy scoffed as he took a menacing step forward. Each of his words were laced with venom. Maneuvering his blade so the flat of it bit into the growing cut staining Ethan's neck.

"You've lost Raven." Ethan choked out with a grisly, yet pained smile.

"You're delusional." Percy huffed. Disbelieve numbed him momentarily at Ethan's baffling yet clearly triumphant look.

Click.

It was almost indistinguishable amongst the sound of restless horses, and Ethan's shifting armor. The slightest switch of a noise really, but one Percy would recognize anywhere.

The sound of a crossbow being prepared. How the latch clicked into the place, the taut flax bowstring notching into the arrows slot.

Too late.

Up on the butcher's roof, hidden behind the peak and little cylinder smoke stack, two little eyes bore back at him. A sly grin glinted in the night made Percy's heart drop. The moment was over too soon. He couldn't move in time.

Shtink.

In a blur of length and feathers, the arrow flew. Whistling as it hurdled forward through the air. A swell of words and curses got caught midway up his throat.

He was going to die.

Without warning his view was blocked. A figure dropped before him like a dancer sticking the landing. Golden hair caressed his face. The sharp smell of thick lemony soap surrounded him.

No!

Annabeth cried out when its black tip buried a place in her shoulder. Spouting a line of blood that dribbled down and was swallowed by the earth. Pain, he could see it tighten her body as she stumbled backwards into him. Hissing her breaths to keep from screaming.

Everything went blank in Percy's mind. Like a crisp white sheet of paper that sat on his majesty's desk, sharp and empty. Without thinking he swung Riptide in an arch around him to keep Ethan and his lackey at bay. Four seconds later he'd sheathed his blade and was gone into the night. Dragging Annabeth by her good arm, her hair flying like a golden flag of surrender.

"You shouldn't've come here," he growled.

Annabeth smiled weakly. He didn't like her paling complexion. "I learned about it too late to warn you. I had to."

Nervously, his hands twitched. He wanted to carry her. She was losing a lot of blood. But he knew she'd never allow him. Annabeth Chase was a girl who'd stood on her own two feet.

All he could do was hurry her down dark alleyways and under passageways. Scuttling in and out of the shadows until they were breaching the city limits. Thankfully, the final wall was weakly guarded, and left its gates open to the surrounding farms and peasants who lived amongst the hills.

They passed by with ease. When they were over the first hill on the road, Percy pointed to a flat rock.

"Sit."

"We're not at the Gutter yet," she wheezed. She was trying to hide her exhaustion by standing up tall and keeping her shoulders square. But even the great Annabeth Chase couldn't hide the slick of sweat that had coated her face and neck. Or the drain of colour from every surface of her normally sunkissed skin. Not to mention the stain of blood had trailed down her shirt and passed the knees of her trousers.

"Sit." Percy repeated a little more forcefully. She did.

He took the liberty of borrowing her dagger from her sheath and grabbed at the end of his cloak. When he sliced up a ribbon of it, Annabeth's expression soured.

"Not your lovely cloak. It's handmade."

"So were you," Percy muttered as he knelt to her level. "And one is far more precious than the other."

Whatever retort Annabeth had cooked up was lost into an agonized moan when he snapped the arrow at its neck. Delicately, he wrapped the silken material around and around her shoulder, staunching what blood he could. Much to Annabeth's dismay, he cut another strip from his cloak to fashion her a makeshift sling.

"You don't have to-"
Seriously, Percy brushed his fingers up the sleeves of her arms and cupped his hands to her face. Forcing her to look him in the eyes. Forcing her to hear him. He didn't want her missing a single syllable.

"Never. Do that again," he said sharply.

Annabeth's eyes darkened. "Try and stop me."

"Annabeth-"

"If you're ever in danger. If you're about to die. I will intervene and I will not apologize for it." She shook her head free from his grasp and bounced to her feet. But the blood loss fatigue caught up with her and she wavered. Swooning back into Percy's ready arms. Rolling his eyes, he gave in and tucked one hand under the crook of her legs. Bringing her up into his arms bridal style.

"I can walk," she groaned. Not quite recovered from the shroud of dizziness.

"Maybe you can," Percy admitted. "But I'm not going to let you. Just like I'm not going to let you risk your life for me."

He started up the path again. In the far distance he could make out the little square windows filled with a warm light. Inside, he was sure they were pacing nervously.

"I'm a housemaid," Annabeth said against his shoulder. "If one of us had to die then it should be me. I should protect you."

"And I'm a thief," Percy reminded her. "I steal people's money and possessions. I break into houses. At least you do honest work."

"You're the hope of the people, the last pillar of his kingdom," Annabeth scoffed. "If you die then the whole kingdom will fall to pieces. The peasants will have nothing left to do but riot because of their unlivable wages and then be slaughtered by the king's men."

Percy regripped her, gritting his teeth. "And if you die then I'll fall to pieces!"

She always froze after he said something like that. Capturing him in her wide gray eyes that spoke of worry and fear. He never knew why she shied away from him. If it wasn't for her, he'd never have allowed himself even the thought of standing by her side.

How many moons had it been since that warm summer night in the silver lined fields? Six? She walked with him as far as the edge of the east mountain. Talking about useless things, important things, worries, dreams, fantasies. Under the starlight, she'd looked like a small woodland goddess, a crest of white snowdrop blossoms in her hair. Like a crown of sorts.

Most men thought it was unbecoming of a woman to wear pants but Percy had never seen Annabeth look more beautiful. Combat outfit and all.

Then, just as his mind was seeping into dangerous territory, she grabbed his collar and kissed him. It was like creating a star between them. A new heart beat. A fully realized dream.

And just as he was peaking with ecstasy and butterflies, she broke away from him. Ashamed, embarrassed, afraid. She took off into the darkness and left him there, baffled.

Ever since then he'd been asking himself what he did wrong. Every day started with the fresh determination to forget her, move on. But every evening when she showed up in the Gutter it was like his stomach became a hive for fireflies.

"You're my sun," he said, unable to keep the sadness from his tone. "So please never extinguish."

Annabeth lowered her gaze. "Why do you always talk in such fanciful ways?"

"Believe it or not, I didn't have these words until I met you."

"You sound like a bard that's lost his lyre."

"Better than a fool who's forgotten the steps of his own dance."

"That's debatable."

The final hill. The home stretch. Ahead, the Gutter was alive with candlelight. A stone structure, older than the hundred year war and far finer than any house that was built out on the wasteland of hills. But it was deceptive, although it was great with its tar shingles and textured walls, the whole building was on a tilt, moments from collapse. When that happened, the gang would be forced out into the streets and to live in the gutters.

Might as well name your current home the future one, Thalia had pointed out.

Thankfully, from within he could see a few anxious figures hovering in front of the windows. The moment he was recognized, the doors were thrown open and seven figures came running out. Calypso, in her modest skirt and apron was in the lead. Ready to mother.

"What happened?" she asked, fussing over Annabeth.

Annabeth swatted her away. "I'm fine. Percy wouldn't let me walk."

"She got hit with an arrow. It's pretty deep. She'll need stitches and a lot of ale." Percy instructed as Annabeth slipped from his arms.

"Mmh fine!" she declared and started staggering for the house.

But Calypso was not a pushover and she clamped onto Annabeth tightly. Piper took her other side and together the two girls managed to wrangle Annabeth into submission.

Jason was highly amused. "She got shot with an arrow."

Leo seemed to be sharing the same sentiment. "I can guess how she got that."

Frank did not share the same brain cell. "I can't. What happened?"

Percy brushed past them, stripping off his black leather gloves and prying the mask from his face as he walked. It felt good to feel the crisp night air against his brow again.

"What happened doesn't matter. Annabeth is getting help and she's strong. She'll be fine. Did Thalia and Nico get back alright?"

Jason fell in line beside him and smacked him on the shoulder. "She took an arrow for you!"

"She loooooooves you!" Leo fluttered his eyelashes while struggling to keep up with his short legs.

"Yeah. Thalia and Nico are in the basement counting the loot." Frank answered helpfully.

Percy unfastened his cloak and tossed it at Leo. As he started loosening the straps of his leather armor, Leo groaned dramatically.

"Man, what happened to you? You used to be a chick magnet. A ladies man. There wasn't a woman who wouldn't fall for you, Perseus Jackson. Now you're hung up on one girl who'll never admit that she really likes you back. It's pathetic. I miss the charmer Percy. The flirt. The dangerous seducer."

"And what's Hazel doing?" Percy straightened his shirt sleeves and combed back his unruly hair with one hand. Pointedly ignoring Leo.

"I wonder why though." Jason pondered. "I mean, clearly Annabeth likes him enough to take an arrow for him."

"Also in the basement." Frank supplied, glaring at the others. "She's working on a new formula to burn through metal."

Percy threw back the double doors. Home to him was splintering hardwoods and empty walls covered in bleak yellow paper. A large hole was in the front hall, a ladder propped up inside of it led straight to the basement.

"Call a meeting," he said. "We have things to discuss."

.oOo.

The Dining room was one of the only rooms in the house that was furnished. Mostly because pillagers weren't able to move the massive solid oak table through the small doors, and the grand marble fireplace was too heavy to even lift away from the wall. Over the time they'd spent there, Leo had sculpted some decent chairs out of wood that was gifted by some grateful villagers and Calypso had woven woolen curtains, dyed with flower petals, from her flock of sheep she kept out back. Piper had pinched some candlesticks from the last household she cooked for so the room was well enough lit that they didn't have to squint to see any faces.

Annabeth sat at the head of the table, slumped over and exhausted. From where he stood by the fireplace, he tried not to stare but it was difficult. He was worried. A line of neat black stitches were etched into the exposed white of her shoulder.

They must've run out of bandages. Percy made a mental note to pick some up later that evening.

"Everyone's here," Frank said. Always the helpful one.

"Right." Percy pushed off the fireplace and circled the room once. Making sure everyone had their eyes on him as the thunk of his heavy boots met the weak floors. "Tonight was a success. But how much of a success?"

He tilted his head at Thalia.

She rolled her eyes. "It's just an estimate as always, but depending on how much gold we get off the candlesticks and doorknobs and if Leo doesn't botch the counterfeiting process-"

"Hey. I'm a master at forgery."

"-I'd reckon we're looking at just over a thousand gold pieces. Right now we have roughly four hundred gold pieces just from looting his locked chest."

A hum of approval rippled around his small crew. Hazel clapped her hands excitedly to herself. Her chemist glasses still clasped over her head and parting her mass of frizzy hair.

"Good. Good." Percy turned on his heels and walked the other way. "Any suggestions on who it should go to?"

Hazel shot up. "The orphanage on the sixth street. I vote we give everything to them. They've suffered a lot recently."

Percy stopped. He set his fingers on the surface of the table. "Any objections to that?"

Jason raised a lazy hand from his seat. "We need to keep discreet. As much as they need the money, it would start looking pretty suspicious if a broken down orphanage started living a good life."

"Exactly." Percy glanced in Annabeth's direction. She was suspiciously quiet and he didn't like it. Usually, this was her favorite part. Deciding where the money went and how.

"We could do the 'small bag of coins' per family like we did last time. That was fun," Piper suggested.

"But time consuming," Nico said. "And has a higher likelihood that we're caught. With such a big loot, the royal guard will be twice as vigilant looking for spare coins."

"Well, what about the churches and synagogues? We could slip the money to the priest's and rabbi's and they can discreetly distribute the money to the people in their congregation," Frank said.

"So non-religious people don't deserve to get money?" Thalia scoffed.

"Not only that but most church goers are maids and household staff. Farmers don't get Sunday off of work. We'd be missing giving the money to those who really need it that way." Calypso looked up from her knitting.

"Again. Small bags of money per house. We've done it so many times before. It's fun." Piper reiterated.

"But the orphans!" Hazel protested.

Leo shrugged. "Maybe I should just make a giant catapult and launch the money into the outer sector."

"Too much effort," Nico said.

"Property damage much?" Calypso scoffed at her husband.

"The guards would just close the streets and take the cash," Jason said.

"Perhaps-" Percy took control of the room again. Eyeing each one of his companions as he passed by. "-We split it up? Sixty percent to the orphanage, but given to the local church to pay them in inconspicuous increments. If asked, they can just say it was a donation for the poor. Which it was. Then the remaining thirty eight percent we can package up into reasonable parcels and drop them through windows to avoid interaction."

Finally, Annabeth straightened. A curious sparkle in her grey eyes. "What about the last one percent?"

Percy shrugged, smirking. "Thieves tax."

Everyone groaned in unison. Throwing their hands up at their leader like he was some hapless moron.

"I keep food on the table!" Calypso bellyached.

"And I've made this place comfortable enough, right?" Leo gestured to the wooden chair he was sitting on.

"Frank, Piper, and I bring in enough pocket money with our respective jobs!" Jason crossed his arms.

"And I sell my herbal remedies!" Hazel pointed out.

Percy waited for Annabeth's protest, but it never came. Instead she'd cocked her head to one side and stared at him quietly. Unworking what was in his brain with her eyes.

"Perce, ten percent is ten gold pieces. That could feed a family of five for a month. We do just fine on our own, why skim it?" Frank asked.

Frank Zhang either got his steadiness from years of being a farm hand, or taking care of his grandma in her old age. Percy couldn't figure out which one it was. Maybe the guy was just born that way.

"I'm not a Saint," Percy set his arm against the cold biting surface of the marble fireplace again. Leaning on it to look in on the dancing flames eating away at a hunk of wood. "I'm not selfless. It's just my price for the work I do."

"Finally, it's taken twenty two years but your cockiness is evaporating," Thalia said.

Percy chortled. "What are you talking about, sweet cousin? I'm as humble as a pie."

"Oh you-"

"So what do we say? Meeting adjourned?" Percy glanced around one time. His crew started to nod begrudgingly.

"Wait." Annabeth stood up. The motion was quick and decided. Too much for her. She almost fell back into her chair but she fought to stay upright. "Meeting not adjourned."

"Because?"

"Because we don't know the movements of the royal guard yet. Let's hold off on a decision until after Leo has crafted all the new coins. Then I can get us the information we need. This is an extraordinarily large loot, they may take extra measures this time to try and find it and you."

Percy shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"But-"

"You're not going anywhere. You're injured. You expect to fulfill your housemaid duties in your present condition? Ridiculous. Until you're properly healed, you'll rest here."

"I may lose my job!"

"Then lose it." Percy said harshly.

Annabeth stiffened. A flare of anger in her eyes that scoured so deeply, Percy felt like standing down. "If I didn't have the job I have, you would've died tonight."

"And you nearly exposed yourself to your employer. What if he recognized you tonight and is suspicious?"

Just another reason to despise Ethan Nakamura. He hailed from the Nakamura Manor, a distinguished family with a high wealth. And Annabeth's master. If he found out a maid in his own home was sneaking top secret information out and into the hands of the enemy, Percy had no doubt he'd strike her down on the spot.

She slept under the same roof as the man who swore to cut out any followers of the Raven. It made him shiver.

"It's a possibility." Annabeth conceded. "But a risk I'm going to have to take."

"You expect to scrub floors without using your shoulder? Change sheets? If Ethan Nakamura discovers your wound he'll put two and two together faster than a wolf can get through a broken fence."

"He won't find out-"

"How can you be sure? Clearly he had knowledge of where we would be passing through tonight. He acts on urges not facts."

"I'm a good actress, I can-"

"Can what? Work through pain? Strain yourself? You need time to heal, Annabeth."

Annabeth rammed her good fist down onto the table sending a jolt through the room. The tension thickened. Thunderstorms swirled in her eyes as she served her glare to Percy alone. "I'm going back tonight. I'm going to learn how Ethan plans to coordinate his men and I'm going to do it with this injured shoulder. We need that information for the safety of the rest of the crew and for the safety of the people. I will not sit idly here. I will not lag. I will bring my worth to this team in the time it's most needed. If you don't agree with me then kick me out of this operation."

Why was she always so stubborn? For a girl in service, she had a will of iron. Infuriating. Mind numbing. But holy hell did it make his heart beat. Where did she come from to have such a fire? Who gave her such confidence and told her to dance with it?

Percy sighed through his grit teeth. Scarcely looking at her for fear a blush would force its way onto his cheeks. "Fine. Go. But if you think Ethan Nakamura is even the tiniest bit suspicious of you, you are to run away immediately. Clear?"

Annabeth seemed satisfied enough with that.

"Alright. Now that the lovers' spat is over, meeting adjourned?" Thalia smirked up at him. Sometimes he felt like smacking a frying pan over her thick head.

"Not quite." Percy brushed a hand through his hair again. "Let's discuss duties while we're all here: Leo, get to work on those coins as soon as possible. Hazel how's that metal melting acid coming?"

"Slowly. But I think I got closer."

"Good. The sooner the better. Nico, get in touch with your weapons dealer. I want a dagger that administers poison. Thalia, any interesting gossip in the pubs?"

Thalia shrugged. "Same old. Theories about the crowned princess and talk of revolts that will never happen."

Percy turned on his heels. "What about the housewives gossip, Calypso?"

She didn't look up from her knitting. "Same. Princess theories. Revolts. Lady Martha has an unfortunate mole apparently. Quite unappealing."

"That's gross. Frank, have you seen anything interesting while working near the east border?"

"Thicker security. I think a nobleman from another kingdom might be coming to visit based on the activity."

"Hhhm. Good to know." Percy glanced at Annabeth as he passed. Why did he always feel like the subordinate when she looked at him like that? "Jason, are you still taking notes of all the knights and their movements?"

"Yes'm"

"Piper, any progress on that list of weaknesses in the nobles?"

"Lord Avery is allergic to shellfish," Piper said. "And Lady Avery can't stomach any heavy cream, although it's not a fatal condition. Just unpleasant. They visited the masters last week."

Percy stopped. "Lord and Lady Avery both have dietary problems?"

Piper nodded, a sick grin on her face.

A trickle was dancing in the back of his head. An idea. "What else do we know about the Avery's?"

"They have a lot of land." Frank said.

"Lord Avery is an active hunter. His favorite pastime is buying crossbows." Nico added.

"Word is they came into some excess money from a dead relative," Thalia said. "Or at least that's what the drunks say."

"I've heard of Lady Avery's jewelry from the talk at the well in the square!" Calypso gasped. "Apparently it's divine."

Jewels. Jewels were much more fencible than candelabras and door knobs. They could be broken down into unrecognizable pieces and sold for high prices.

Percy smacked his fist into his palm. "It's settled. We have our next in. Meeting adjourned!"

.oOo.

Annabeth was outside when he went looking for her. Sitting on the flat rock at the steepest point on the hills incline. Staring down into the valley below that held the glowing city. A pool of light in a dark crevice.

She'd tied her hair up into two buns like mouse ears to keep it from brushing against her stitches. As she watched the world below she hummed an indiscernible song. His first instinct was to apologize to her.

But he was the leader. The commander of this group. She'd disobeyed him.

"It's beautiful," she said. Even though he was behind her she had sensed him. Nobody could sneak up on Annabeth Chase. "Isn't it?"

Percy perched himself on the edge of the rock she occupied. Not daring to even peek in her direction. He knew her eyes were glittering like fresh dew. She always looked endeared and in love as she looked down on the small kingdom. A maiden lost to the wells of her heart.

"Everything is beautiful only from a distance," Percy said coarsely. "... everything but you."

Annabeth didn't answer him. Instead she pulled up her legs to hug them softly. Her dagger was still strapped to her thigh.

Why was her impulse to jump in front of the arrow instead of stabbing the bowman?

"What's the Thieves tax actually for?" she asked softly. Looking at him as if she saw straight into his soul.

Percy's gaze fell and he readjusted Riptide. "Anything really. I may want a gold hair comb in the future so I-"

"Percy." Annabeth shook her head at him. "Don't lie to me."

Quietly, he blew air out of his cheeks that tickled his hairline. Annabeth Chase. Why did she have such a solid hold on him?

"It's bail money," he admitted quietly.

Annabeth's eyebrows met. "Bail money? For whom?"

"Me, you. Anyone in the gang who might be imprisoned. Or maybe it's money to bribe a guard into looking away as we sneak one of us out of jail. Or maybe it's money to buy those new fangled Ming explosives Hazel's been going on about. The point is, the money is for us. To get us out of trouble when we're in it. It's a getaway stash."

Her face softened. "Getaway… you mean to leave Genousa?"

"Maybe… one day. I wouldn't mind burying this treacherous kingdom in the horizon."

"But why?" Annabeth leaned towards him. Behind her expression, he could tell that she was already trying to convince him to never do it.

"One day I may have no choice. If I'm ever found out it would be safer for the gang if I just left. Stronger men than me have been tortured under the king and forced into saying the names of their companions. I would rather exile myself than ever be in that circumstance." Percy shifted his sword again. Speaking the other option out loud seemed too vile. Still, he wouldn't be the first to fall on his own blade to avoid the wrath of the king.

"Where would you go?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." Percy chortled softly to himself. "I'd find a paradise to live in."

Setting her chin against her knee, Annabeth hummed as if the idea was pleasing.

A thread pulled in Percy's chest. He fought the urge to reach out and take her smooth unblemished hand from the surface of the rock and interlace their fingers in the darkness. Just to share one touch of intimacy would settle his clashing doubts about how she felt.

He'd only known her for two years but it felt like he'd always known her.

"Come with me," he breathed. "When the day comes that I have to flee, come with me."

Annabeth's eyelids fluttered as if the very thought of it overwhelmed her. Lips parted, eyes wide she stared at him, speechless.

"I'd build you a home anywhere you wanted," he promised. "You'd just have to say the word."

She quicked up a small smile and blushed into her legs. "Is this another marriage proposal?"

"So what if it is?"

It was a miracle she wasn't married already. At twenty years old, Annabeth should've found a husband but she rebelled against the very notion. His asking was always a long shot.

"Percy. I'm not like you. I could never leave Genousa. This land is my home." Her eyes found the ground dappled in buildings again. Steeples and slanted roofs glowed from the spaces in between. A city that held her heart. "I want to fix it. Not run from it."

A part of him wilted. "Fix it? It's unfixable! It's a dump."

"It's only a dump because the men in charge are made of garbage," she said. "But what if we could change that?"

"You dream big things," Percy sighed.

A crackle of fire laced up his arm when Annabeth laid her smooth hand over his. Warm and caring.

"I dream-" she said seriously. Softly. "-for a future."

.oOo.

Preparations for the Avery Estate theft went into full force. Frank took up a tilling job on the land to see if he could gather any information. Jason buddied up to some of the house guards to see what he could glean. Hazel was excited to try and burn through the front wrought iron gate.

Working all together, his crew was a well oiled machine. While they toiled away, Percy took care of their last loot. Every little cold coin found itself either on the sixth street parish doorsteps with a note, or in little leather sacks that were unceremoniously dropped in windows.

Eventually, only the ten coins were left and he took care to stash them carefully with the other 'thieves tax' payments.

Everything wound down into a good week of work. Percy couldn't've been prouder of his crew. Originally, he called the meeting late one evening to congratulate them, but he didn't anticipate the turns life gave him.

Nico found Percy in the kitchen, staring at a hole in the wall that seemed to grow bigger by the day. Moonlight beamed in through the emptiness and glittered against the broken tiled floor. It wasn't a nice kitchen to begin with. The counters and cupboards were rotting, the beams in the ceiling oozed dust, plaster and mouse droppings whenever a door was slammed, and the walls were slanting suspiciously leftward. The only serviceable thing in the room was the wrought iron pot bellied stove.

Not that it could warm the kitchen much anymore, because any puff of heat went straight out the wagon wheel sized hole.

How could he patch it without spending money on expensive wood?

"Here." Nico slipped him something. Ignoring the quiet state of thought Percy had fallen into and rudely interrupting his ponderings.

A simple dagger no longer than the length of Percy's hand lay in his palm. Sleek, modern, with a good grip and a solid leather sheath. A hole in the silver point that indicated its special use.

"It acts like a syringe here, see? So stab first then push down the button on the hilt. Although I can't imagine why you want it."

"Consider it a way out of being cornered." Percy said as he stuffed it in his belt. "And remind me to pick up cyanide while I'm out…. And wood."

"It carries the dose for one person. If you're cornered by more than one then this thing is useless." Nico scoffed.

Percy laughed. "I may seem like more, but believe it or not I am a single person."

"You mean this is to kill yourself?"

"If need be."

"Percy-" a voice said weakly behind him. Annabeth stood by the door. Paler, worried. How long had she been there? "Jason's back. He's set up the model for you to look over."

Her shoulder was covered but he could still tell it hurt. She couldn't hide everything from him. Especially not the way she favored her arm.

"Alright… lead the way."

All had gathered except Thalia, Frank and Hazel. Two were probably deep in work, the latter was probably drunk.

As he entered the dining room, all eyes flickered up to him expectantly.

Escape routes. That was his forte. That's what kept everyone safe and everyone out of the dungeons. Percy was in charge of getting his men in and out and that meant needing to know all movements of the palace soldiers and personal guards.

Luckily, one of his men was a guard.

Deep in thought, Jason circled the dining table once more. An elderly map of the capitol was spread against the wood and held in place by candlesticks. Little wooden men signifying units of guards and soldiers were placed methodically around the palace borders and the city limits.

"This is my understanding on where guards are being placed recently." Jason stepped back to allow Percy to fully examine the set up. Oddly, it felt disjointed. Out of whack. Something was wrong. He let his eyes wander away from the Avery Estate and its surrounding area.

"Annabeth?" Percy waved her forward. "Does this look right to you?"

After briefly scoping the board, she nodded approvingly. "It's just like the model Ethan Nakamura has in his office."

"Really?" Percy squinted at the map again. It was off. He wasn't crazy. "Why are there so many guards stationed at the Basilica? Also the feasting hall? The palace borders are almost completely undefended. That can't be right."

Calypso jolted so hard she shifted the entire table. "So it IS true!"

Piper shifted by the door. She still had her cooking apron on. "What?"

"Well there's this new rumor going on about the Crown Princess. She's to be married!"

"Married! To whom?" Percy bristled. This was just like the King. Keeping secrets from the people until the last minute. It was harder to protest things when they were slapped in your face.

"King Octavian of the North Kingdom Gower."

"Oh. Oh no." Leo wiped a hand down his face. "We're merging kingdoms with Gower? I heard about King Octavian while I was a cabin boy. He's worse than our King. Far far worse."

Percy fell back beside the fireplace. It's warm crackle helped him focus. "Define worse?"

"Well our King likes to hang people upside down, leave them in isolation, let them starve. King Octavian is much more sinister. His favorite tactics for his captured mis-doers includes boiling them in oil, setting them on spiked stakes, covering them in wine just to set them on fire and making their loved ones eat their ashes when it's all over. I met a man who had the skin on his back torn off just for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his children."

A chill settled down Percy's spine. "And this man is to take over when his Majesty dies? Unthinkable."

"It's no wonder they haven't made a royal announcement yet. If people had time to digest this news there would finally be a revolt in a matter of minutes," Jason said slowly. "That's politics for you. Lies and deceit."

"What of the Princess?" Percy asked. "Is there a chance she'll make a stand? Refuse to go through with the marriage?"

"If she chooses that, she chooses death." Piper shook her head. "It's no secret the King hates his daughter. Ever since her majesty, the Queen, died in childbirth."

"If only the Queen were here now," Nico muttered.

It was a thought the entire kingdom held. How different would life be if the Queen had survived bearing the princess? Percy didn't remember such a time in the kingdom, but his mother told him about it when he was just a boy.

The Queen was a graceful and merciful leader. Under her guidance she made the lands flourish, and brought in wealths from the sea. Even the poorest of the land had food to eat each night. Her death was a blow the King could not manage.

Bitterness and hatred encased him. Rumors grew that his infant daughter was abandoned by him to the care of nannies and servants. The first time he saw his own child was when she was four years old. His rule turned from one of bounty to one of tyranny.

"What else do we know about the Princess?" Percy brushed his fingers over the map.

This was an opening. A weakness. Prattling in the back of his mind was a voice telling him to use it. To take the opportunity and see where it led him. Perhaps he could save Genousa from an even more tyrannical ruler.

"She either has red hair, or a red garment that covers her head." Jason said. "I saw her once."

Annabeth stiffened. Her eyes wide. "You're not a palace guard, how could you have seen her? Nobody in the kingdom has ever claimed to have seen her."

"When I was fourteen, before I was a soldier, I was a bricklayer working in a mortar store. The best mortar store in the city, actually. I got called in with my boss to repair a damaged wall or something within the borders of the palace. The Crown Princess was seated in the gardens nearby." Jason explained. "I was too far away to really make out any distinguishing features besides her red hair."

Red hair. Uncommon visually… Percy poked one of the wooden men on the page. Doubts flared like a surrender flag. It was an old map, and Jason could be wrong.

"Well that isn't much," Piper said. "We don't even know her name."

Annabeth settled herself in one of the wooden chairs and scoured at the map. "I heard her name was something with an R. Rara or Rachel or Rosaline, something like that."
"Really? I swore it was Elouise." Calypso set her knitting down. "I was babysat for by a palace maid when I was a girl. She used to tell me stories about the little princess."

"I feel sorry for her," Leo uttered quietly. "Forced into a marriage to such a despicable person. I wish there was something we could do."

Percy set his hands on his hips. Releasing a long breath with uncertainty. "Maybe we can."

Silent static pulled a tension down in the room. A quiet exchange of glances as his words settled like thick dust. Never before had he suggested something so risky.

Annabeth sat forward, interest piqued. "What do you have in mind?"

Percy tried not to be too taken with how the firelight danced over her neck and cheeks. Clearing his throat, he pointed down to the palace. Directing attention away from him.

"To put it simply; they don't expect the palace to be attacked. They expect the wedding to be disrupted by the angry mob the wedding is bound to make. They're so sure of this that they're guarding the hall and basilica while it's in preparation mode to avoid anything being tampered with. The Palace is being weakly guarded. It would only take a skilled team, some darkness, an hour or so, and an intimate knowledge of the interior of the palace to slip inside and make away with the Princess the night before her wedding."

For the first time in years, Nico's eyes lit up like candles. "Then we could ransom her to two Kings and send her on a boat to the end of the world."

"Exactly."

"But how would we get intimate knowledge of the inside of the palace?" Leo asked.

Percy shook his head. "That's what I'm stumped on too."

"We'd need a maid or servant who'd be willing to betray his Majesty. Asking around for one of those might be more dangerous than actually breaching the palace," Piper said, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

"Then it's a cursed mission. We don't have the tools necessary," Jason said.

"I don't think we have the time to get them either," Percy added. "Based on what we know the wedding is too soon to do anything about it."

Annabeth sat back in her chair. Disappointed. "That's just how they want it too. Done too quickly and discreetly for a revolt or any kind of action. I guess we should just start preparing to have King Octavians dumb smug face on the coin."

"Let's not rule it out as a possibility just yet," Percy said. "There may be a way, we just need the creativity to find it. For now, we need to focus on the Avery job."

.oOo.

For some reason, Annabeth was always outside. It was as if she were allergic to walls and ceilings. More times than not, Percy's eyes followed her to the front door after meetings instead of to the hallway to the kitchen where Calypso would allow a few late night snacks. Normally she'd be admiring the city, or the stars or wading through the plain of hip high grass and humming a slow song to herself, but not that night.

When he found her, she was lying back down on a bald patch of dry dusty earth. Eyes closed, lips parted. Her ribcage stilled like the pendulum on a dead clock.

With a warbled cry seeping from his throat, Percy bounded over. A million curses and panics fluttered through his mind like fleeing sparrows.

Annabeth flinched and peeked her eyes open at him. "Percy?"

Percy wilted against the ground. Relieved. "I think I just troubled my own heart into giving up."

"What's wrong?"

"I thought you were dead."

Annabeth laughed. A clear and precious sound that matched all the beauty of a bouncing stream. His heart started beating again. How could he bottle that sound?

"All that fuss just because you thought I was dead? Please. If I were dead, do me a favor and don't waste your energy in such a fashion. Throw my corpse in the sea and forget me."

"Why?" Percy hissed, rolling up to stare down at her in shock. "Why do you say such things?"

Unconcerned, Annabeth shrugged. "Because it's true. I'd rather you schemed a way into robbing some rich old croon blind then take the time to bury me."

Percy gaped at her. "I don't understand you."

"Good. I like holding some mystique over you. Makes me feel more powerful than a simple maid."

She'd closed her eyes again. Enjoying the soft hum of the early spring night. Crickets, fresh to life, chirruped and sang around them. A warming breeze fell over the distant grass and hushed the world into a state of bliss. A sheen of moonlight bathed everything in glory.

Even Annabeth. Especially Annabeth.

It found the curves of her cheeks and slope of her neck. Glistening against her dark lashes and bringing out the gold in her hair. All as if she were glazed in magic.

Softly, he traced his knuckles over the skin on her shoulder, brushing away a stray curl. His arm prickled at the contact.

Annabeth's eyes fluttered open. He was set in her calculating grey stare.

"What are you doing?"

What was this trapped in his sternum? Longing? Pining? It ached.

Percy's fingers lingered against the warm silkiness of her skin as he roamed his hand up to cup her head beneath her chin. Aware of her eyes that watched him silently, curiously. Aware of the thrush of colour that built up in her cheeks. Aware of how the rest of her body lay tense against the dry earth.

Slowly, he grazed his thumb over the part in her lips. Dreaming.

For a few moments last summer those lips had been his. His to kiss as ferociously as he wished, his to romance with gentle whispers of love, his to express all the cramped emotions singing in his heart.

He'd wasted those sparse few moments. He knew that now. If he could take a wizard's potion and travel back in time, he'd never let her run off. He'd never let that moment end.

"If only you knew," he sighed. Finally retracting his hand.

He couldn't kiss her now, although every throb in his body told him otherwise. She'd made it perfectly clear the week after that magical summer night. He strode up to her confused and hopeful. She sternly told him to just 'forget about it. Forget about me.'

He couldn't.

"Knew what?" Her eyes. Why did they have to reach so deep? Why did they twinkle like two fallen stars? His heart hurt.

"How precious you are to me," he whispered.

Panic. He could see her pupils choke with it seconds before she turned away from him. He could tell she was thinking of walking away. Leaving like she did that night.

"Shouldn't you treat all of your crew the same?" she said. Strained. Desperate.

But he couldn't stop the flow. "I could never love them as I love you."

There. It was in the air. Thickening the night into a tense unbreathable atmosphere. He didn't know how long he held those words in but damn did it feel good to get them out. It was like breaking through the surface of the water after spending an eternity drowning.

Stiffly, Annabeth rose to her feet. Her gaze fixated on the horizon. She was going to run.

Percy caught her hand. Her fingers trembled under his grip.

"Annabeth. Marry me."

She was silent. Still. His words were poisoning her into a statue. This was the first time he'd been so bold. But he couldn't live in the aching casm of his own mind any longer.

"I am a housemaid," she said evenly, quietly. "I'm not fit…"

"And I'm a thief!" He jumped to his feet to gain access to her level. To speak to her head on, but she refused to face him. His grip tightened around her hand. She needed to hear him.

"You're the son of a nobleman."

"I'm the bastard of a nobleman. The son of a lowly cook. A coward who couldn't even steal a loaf of bread to keep his mother alive during the famine. An idiot who only found the courage to live when nothing else could be lost. Don't try to convince me that you're not worth my love Annabeth, because if my hardships have taught me anything it's that all humans are equal."

He didn't intend to sound so harsh or hoarse. His past had a way of tampering with his voice.

All he wanted was for her to understand that dizzying warmth she surrounded him in. How it pained him to stand beside her but not with her.

Hell, the things he wanted to do to her.

Cuddle her for starters. Loop his arm over her shoulders whenever she got that flighty trapped fox look in her eyes. Kiss her hair. Her hands. Her neck. Kiss her. Trace her smooth skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. Protect her from all harm. Steal her away from Ethan Nakamura.

Annabeth's back shivered. "This isn't love."

"How is it not?"

"Because you don't know me!" she hissed. Finally yanking her arm free and turning on him like a cobra forced forward in a fight. "I scarcely know myself."

Percy caught the trim curve of her waist with one hand, settled the other under her chin. His heart was pounding. Fear was rattling him too but he couldn't stop. He couldn't let her run. Not yet.

"Is that why you fall away from me every time I'm close?"

When he pressed his forehead against hers, she simply melted under his touch. Abandoning the fight in her. Mournfully, she sighed. Eyes squeezed closed as if dealing with reality was too much for her. His heart skittered to a halt when she rested her palm against his pounding chest.

"I was born into a role. A position. I can't be anyone other than the level of my parents. I can't act out about that level either. Obedience is expected from me. If I fail that expectation I'm a dead woman. But I'm not obedient, Percy."

Chuckling arily, Percy brushed his nose against her. Enjoying the closeness. How her breath tickled across his jaw like brushstrokes from fairies.

"Don't I know it."

He didn't dare snake his arms up to cradle her. This felt too fragile.

"These last two years on the crew have given me my life back but it hasn't completed me. I still don't know who I am."

"And you think I can't be in love with you because of that?" Percy snorted.

"I don't think a person who's lost their identity can be loved," she said. "Only the image of what they project is loved."

Percy shook his head against hers. "You're wrong. Just because you can't quite perceive yourself, doesn't mean that others can't perceive you. I know you and I love you."

"Then who am I?"

"Annabeth Chase," he said without hesitation. "Smart, cunning, bold, confident, stubborn, beautiful, proud, wise, funny and good hearted."

"I'm not-"

"You are all those things and more," Percy said seriously. "Whether you believe me or not."

Tense, she peeled away from him. That fluttering look of uncertainty tainting her grey eyes again. Was it something he said? Did he do something?

"You don't know me," she mumbled. "I'm not good-hearted."

"Annabeth-"

"I'm not."

"Annabeth!"

But she took off. Sprinting away, spiking up puffs of dust that floated in a silver sheen of moonlight before lazily sinking back to earth. The hip high grass in the fields parted like a duke's hair for her. In a moment she was over the hill and went from sight.

Percy knotted his fingers in his scalp.

"Idiot!"

.oOo.

Thievery was like dancing. Every person had a place on the stage, every member had a time to shine, every moment was calculated, every circumstance was accounted for.

The clockwork of the theft had already been moving all day, but the Avery family weren't aware. Not even as Percy slipped his feet to the polished wood floor in their main sitting room. The Avery hunting dogs lay scattered at his feet. Asleep. Drugged by a concoction Hazel had mastered, and fed to the poor beasts by Jason on his rounds.

Besides the small huffs puffing out the furry snouts of the dogs, there was silence. A still silence. The kind that seeped into your bones and settled there.

Just the sort of silence 'The Raven' operated under.

Mr. Avery was undoubtedly asleep. The doctor by his side. Mrs. Avery would've abandoned her private room for the guest apartment that was fitted with a much more comfortable bathroom. Both had ingested the things that didn't 'agree' with them. Judging by the lack of commotion, Percy reckoned that Mr. Avery survived his allergic reaction.

All the staff were too wary to leave their quarters. Scared they would be blamed next and fired just as the cook had been.

"Wrong way Perce." Nico prodded him in the direction of the white washed door.

Why had he been wandering towards the fireplace? It was simply carved. Elegant. A large portrait of a couple hung over the room. He shook his head and altered course. Watching his own shadow shift and stretch in faint light as it slunk over the wallpaper, the carpets, the curtains.

A million fine things glinted in this household. Boldly on display. Tempting him from afar. Whether they were the crystals glittering up in the front hall chandelier, or the shine of silver plating the spindles of the stairs. They called to him. Promising value that he could spread over the poor like honey and butter.

Jewelry. He cleared his mind. Jewelry.

According to Frank's crude map he'd made while studying the house as a farm hand, Lady Avery's private room was six doors down the hallway after the stairs. Calypso claimed that a servant would be on night watch and would roam the halls if he heard so much as a squeak.

They kept to the edges of the hallway. Trodding lightly over the hand woven carpet, and ducking under the thick gold painted frames lining the walls. Generations of Avery's scowled down at them in portraits.

"I've seen prettier cow asses," Thalia scoffed at one with a leer.

Lady Avery's room was the epitome of luxury and high-class decor. A series of windows punctured one wall displaying the courtyard below. The high ceiling was painted embellished with gold stars and scenes of the past. Between her four post bed laden with silken things and the solid white ivory handled vanity sat a fine claw foot table and a large box fitted with a lock. F.A was initialed in gold on the stained wood.

Lady Avery's jewelry box.

Percy slid his gloves off and gently dropped them to the floor. Holding his breath, he took out the new set of lock picks Leo had made and pressed the tip into the empty hole that glared out at him. Through tiny taps he blindly explored the inner workings of the metal.

"Would you cut that out?" he hissed. Thalia's breath was scalding down his neck.

"Sorry."

Nico ran a hand through his hair nervously. "We've been in for two minutes now."

"Shut up," Percy nibbled the inside of his cheek. "I've almost got it-"

Click.

The gossipers had been right. Lady Avery possessed some of the finest pieces of jewelry to be found.

And a wide selection of it too.

Sapphires, rubies, diamonds, emeralds were worked to perfection and embedded in clusters of white crystals that strung along the fine golden chains. Pearls the size of small candies were looped into necklaces, secured into bracelets and punctured into earrings.

Evenly, they distributed the loot. Fill the belly of your bag with the most expensive things first, then work backwards. That was the cardinal rule.

When they're bags hung against their shoulders a little tighter, Percy closed the empty box and nodded to his cousins. The hunt for the next priciest items was on.

They split up. Slinking through the hallways on tender feet and sliding through the barest cracks in doors as to not cause any squeaks from the hinges.

In the second guest room, Percy discovered a chess set made entirely of gold. Plus eight antique silver pill boxes and a brush encrusted with topaz. On his way out he snagged the silver candlesticks.

Thalia was in the hallway. An arm around a servant's neck. Her other hand clamped over his mouth muffling the startled screams. Immediately Percy jumped forward and struck his fist against the servants temple.

The man went limp.

"We should leave." Percy shook out his hand.

"He snuck up on me." Thalia grumbled quietly as she lowered him to the floor.

Percy peeked farther down the halls framed by faux columns. "Where's Nico?"

"Library. Taking all the gold tips for the quills no doubt."

"Did you find anything decent?"

"Seven solid gold figurines from Mayura," Thalia grinned. "You?"

"Mostly silver trinkets," Percy sighed. "And an all gold chest set."

"Nice."

A silhouette appeared at the end of the hallway. Slow, slinking and too short to be a servant of this household. Percy didn't wait for Nico to catch up. He started for the stairs. Another cardinal rule while being the Raven was to be aware of time. Take what you can and be long gone by the time anyone notices that something is amiss.

Together, the trio slid through the hall, and into the main sitting room they'd broken into to begin with. The sprawled dogs were still snoring against the carpets. Moonlight beamed in like slanted spotlights.

Percy let his cousins crawl out first, as was custom. They sprinted across the dew soaked grass, cropped short, and into the strip of trees that protected them from unwanted eyes. Cloaks fluttering in the breeze and a clear stumble in their gate as their loot held them from gracefulness.

Just as Percy was about to swing a leg out, he found his eyes attracted to the portrait above the fireplace once more. That stoic couple that stood proudly in beautiful silks and velvet were calling to him.

The King and Queen. Percy realized with a start. The king's face was stamped onto any coin worth a slice of bread but he looked different in this liking. Happier. Healthier. No lines or wrinkles brought down his face. His eyes were bright and upturned in contentment.

And the Queen. Percy had never seen her face in his life. After her untimely death, the King had wiped her away from every part of the kingdom as if he couldn't bear to be reminded of his beautiful wife. She was beautiful too. Something about her eyes, the quiet thought in them struck Percy with a familiarity.

His mother perhaps. She was always talking about how gracious her majesty the queen had been. Through this painting, Percy could finally say his mother had been speaking the truth.

I'm sorry. Percy prayed silently. I can't save your kingdom from the man who is coming.

Just then the door creaked. Percy sunk away behind the curtain, one hand on his trusty sword. He'd had Leo sharpen Riptide that week.

A maiden stepped in. No. Not a maiden. Annabeth. Her golden hair tumbled in curls down to her waist, her searching grey eyes scanned the room silently. Everything from her loose tunic and slacks, to her boots and her dagger slung around her hips spoke of trouble. She was in combat gear.

Percy revealed himself. Crossing the room in eight steps, concern knitted his eyebrows down.

"Annabeth?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Despite her appearance, she was calm and quiet and achingly beautiful. He hadn't spoken to her since the night he was bold enough to speak without a filter. Oh how he wished he'd had a filter. She would still stand beside him easily if that were the case.

"You're wrong about me," she muttered. Softly, sadly.

Before Percy could sort a response, Annabeth slid the warmth of her fingers across his jaw. Trailing up to push his Raven's mask off the bridge of his nose and away from his face. Butterflies were already tickling his sternum. But his confusion only intensified.

Glancing around, he gripped her wrist. Keeping her palm close to his face. "Why are you here my love?"

Swallowing hard, Annabeth looked like she was about to cry. But she didn't.

Instead she stepped closer, slipped her hand to cradle the back of his neck, and kissed him tenderly.

Instantly everything went limp inside Percy. The world around him slipped away. Flushes of warmth tingled up and down his body, his skin skittered with excitement. It was like the humming of a soft lullaby. A drug of powerful proportions. It was like being kissed by light.

Reactionarily, he wound his arms around her and held on tight. He'd learned his lesson last time. He deepened the kiss with a throbbing sigh built up in his chest.

Annabeth's hand brushed down the length of his torso. Sinking, sinking. She found his belt line with her nimble fingers and Percy's heart rate reached a new high.

Shink. Breaking apart from the kiss, she unsheathed a dagger from his belt. His poison dagger. Her own deadly blade was in her other hand, pressing its biting cold into his neck.

"Annabeth?!"

"You're wrong about me. I'm not good hearted," she said quietly.

Footsteps pounded against the hall outside. Metal footsteps, clanking with armor and rust that squeaked. Swords banging by their sides. Percy tried to take a step back but Annabeth was holding him firmly in place. Unwavering.

His heart pounded in his chest like a trapped rodent.

Soldiers swarmed in the room one after another, crossbows pointed low until Percy was in sight. They held their arrows eye-level with his head. A smugness that drew sharp smiles on their reedy faces.

Ethan Nakamura's grin was deeper than the others. "I'm impressed, Annabeth."

Percy's heart just about shattered into a million pieces. Gasping for air that wouldn't come he probed her desperately. Praying that it wasn't true. "Annabeth!?"

Annabeth didn't even look at him. She sheathed her dagger and handed the poisoned one to Ethan dutifully. The soldiers parted to let her pass.

Percy's head was spinning. He was going to throw up. How could she? What was she thinking? Pain boiled in his heart. He didn't know what to think. He didn't know what to do. The fight left him like a breath of foul air.

"All that girl wanted was to move up in life." Ethan goaded triumphantly. "You couldn't give her that. But I could. I'm not against taking a servant for a wife if it means catching you."

Percy clenched his teeth. Tears were burning his eyes, making his vision swim. "You… you recognized her that night."

Ethan shrugged. "Then made her an offer she couldn't refuse."

Why?! Why?! Why?! There had to be something he wasn't seeing. Some backplot Ethan was hiding from him. Surely it hadn't taken such a measly offer to sway Annabeth Chase. Was he threatening her? Was he holding something above her head? Percy's lips shivered. It felt like all his veins had been slapped with a cold sheet of water.

Ethan strutted forward, not unlike a rooster. Percy had no choice but let him reach for Riptide, and unsheath it in a dramatically slow fashion.

"I think I'll ask the king to allow me to keep this. As a souvenir of sorts over today's great victory and justice."

He had no words to yell at him. Nothing in his brain would connect. Tonight was his downfall solely because the girl he loved betrayed him. How does one heal from that?

"Sir," A new soldier came running in. "The other two have escaped."

A bite of relief filled Percy's hollow mind for a moment. At least Nico and Thalia had the smarts to leave him behind. He wished them well, wherever they went.

Ethan was still admiring his own reflection in Riptide. "Oh no matter. We know where to find them."

NO!

Percy dove forward and snatched Riptide back out of Ethans grasp. Like a mad man he slashed around him in an arch, driving back the forces. Moving faster than he'd ever had, he ducked between two soldiers and jumped for the window. His only chance.

But his cloak was snagged, and his back hit the floor, winding him. He grasped for his sword which lay next to him when a foot collided with the side of his head.

The world spun into black.

.oOo.

Blood. He could smell it all around him. Rotting, stiffening, flowing. Moans of pain were echoing in the dark, off the slimy walls built of thick grey stone, off the iron bars caging them in. Rank air that stank of sewage and mold filled his lungs as he sat up.

It felt like the entire army of Genousa had sat on top of him. Clearly they hadn't gone easy when tossing him into this cell. He shivered against the hard stone ground caked with dirt.

They'd taken his outerwear. All he had on were a loose pair of cotton slacks, and the cotton shirt Calypso had sewn him in the winter.

Like bubbles rising to the surface, his memories floated back to him one at a time.

Annabeth…

Why? Why had she done it? For power? For money? So she could finally be allowed to be the person she wanted to be? He guessed he really didn't know her if that was the case.

But the others. What had become of them? Had they escaped? Did Nico and Thalia understand what was going on when they fled?

Despairingly, Percy scoped the rest of the cramped cells lining the dark room. Under the dim light from a single sputtering candle he couldn't make out faces, but he could make out forms.

Sixteen others were with him in this wing of the dungeon. All scruffy with matted hair, and bent over by days filled with labor or torture. Elbows and knees jutted out and gleamed under the light in a painfully obvious way. These men were skeletons dressed in skin. Not his friends.

There was a chance they were still free, but also a chance that they were being held separate from him.

Percy growled a deep note and threw the wooden bucket that sat next to him against the iron bars. With an ear shattering crack it splintered apart on impact and bounced to the ground in three pieces.

"Temper, temper," someone chided arrogantly. The jingle keys matched the gait of their footsteps. Slow, deliberate.

Ethan Nakamura was out of his Captain's armor and had donned a gold hemmed vest with a ridiculous fluffy collar and cuff combo. Matched with the outrageous feather sticking from his slanted hat, he looked more like a rooster now more than ever.

The two guards at his sides started to sort through a thick ring of keys. Finding the one to release Percy.

"Missed me too much?" Percy cocked his head at him. "Already visiting? Please Ethan. Show some restraint."

Ethan's lip curled in disgust. "No. You have been summoned by the king."

"Is that all? My. Well tell the old boy I'm a trifle busy at the moment." Percy waved off.

Clink. The door fell back with a mournful shriek of a protest. Percy was hauled to his feet by the two palace guards. Even without his weapons, he felt he could take the three of them. But would he be able to maze his way out of the palace and past the steep walls? Probably not.

"The King doesn't wait on anybody."

"Except the pain of the people." Percy added with a dark tone.

Ethan just plain ignored him after that. With a guard on either side of him, he was marched through the bellies of the dungeon. Past starving brutes, missing teeth, and desperate men pleading for water as they passed. They disrupted a mischief of rats as they feasted on someone's severed leg.

Up some winding stairs they went and through a mix of hallways and doors. When Percy thought the building could never end, it did. They hit open air, dark and strewn with starlight. Judging by the position of the moon, Percy deduced that it was the next night since the Avery theft. He'd been unconscious for an entire day.

Through two gates they walked, a fetcher's boy went before them with a torch. The smoke stung his eyes.

In another door they plunged, leaving behind the torch boy. Working down tall hallways curtained with velvet and long tables with gold candelabras. They wound their way west, then east. Making a slow and deliberate circle around what Percy realized was the palace. Tall columns leafed with gold, and the finest paintings crested the ceilings. Even the doorways were carved and loved by an artisan's touch until they sprouted with delicate designs and patterns. Through the windows, Percy could see a spanse of gardens that stretched as far as the palace walls. Flush roses, and daisies bowed in patches under the breeze.

On the east side, a white and glass conservatory stood in the darkness. A single light trodded out of its door and into their line.

A girl with bushy red hair that curled into the cutest little ringlets. They matched her watery green eyes and turned up nose. She had the build of a child almost. Small, helpless and perpetually innocent. When she saw Ethan Nakamura coming her way, she stopped dead in her tracks and gripped the sides of her deep green satin dress.

Ethan stopped too. They exchanged semi awkward glances before he bowed exceptionally lowly.

The princess?!

Almost as if she were never there, she disappeared. Fleeing down the hallway in quick light steps.

"Your girlfriend?" Percy asked.

"Dare speak her name and I will strike you down on the spot," Ethan warned sharply. Waving on the guards to walk faster already.

Ethan's gotta crush on the princ-ess Percy sang in his head.

They past through an impossibly large ballroom with a crystal chandelier large enough to solve Genousa's economy problems. They whisked by the kitchen, the servants quarters, the dining room with a table longer than life. They even went through some bathrooms.

"Lost?" Percy offered.

Ethan didn't answer him. It was if he were giving him the royal tour instead of bringing the prisoner to his doom. Percy preferred the doom if he was being honest. When they hit the biggest staircase Percy had seen in his life, he figured it out and almost faltered.

Because, yeah, Ethan had a crush on the princess. It was true. The Princess was to marry a despicable man who would no doubt make a terrible husband. Annabeth must have discovered Ethans crush and offered him a deal.

That crazy girl. Percy's heart pounded. That crazy wonderful girl got me into the palace.

And it really was a royal tour. Ethan was showing Percy the entire layout of the castle. Every hall, every room of importance and every entrance. On the second level he started the same round. Undoubtedly Ethan would help him escape later, so that he could come back and rescue his darling girl from the clutches of a wicked King. And Annabeth gained her own goals which was the rescue of her beloved home from a terrible ruler. A win-win scenario at the price of his identity. But Percy didn't care. This redeemed his own darling love from the evilness she tried to portray herself as. Sure she had thrown him head first into danger to reach those goals, but Percy didn't care.

It was on. He was going to kidnap the Princess.

"Now announcing the bandit, thief, and outlaw known as 'The Raven'." Someone boomed behind a pair of intricately carved doors.

They parted, slowly, methodically. As if the door openers had a flair for the dramatics. Perhaps the King liked it that way.

Before him was a room divided by three and spaced so an aisle went right down the middle. On either side of the throne room were rows of scowling old men, seated in marble chairs. Mock thrones, Percy thought of them.

At the end of a long dark purple carpet, and three steps up was his Majesty himself. Coarser than Percy had expected, more bent over as if he carried rocks in his jaw. Maybe it was the weight of the plain gold crown lying uneven on his flat greying hairs.

As Percy approached, the King watched him out of one unblinking eye with his head tilted sideways. Disjointed. Unappealing. Half of his face was slumped and expressionless, the other side held all the murderous intention he was known for.

"Scoundrel!" the King cried out suddenly.

Percy tried not to sneer. "I see we hold each other in the same regard."

A quick blow to the back of his head sent spots dancing across his vision. Ethan gripped his neck threateningly. "Bow before your King."

"Why? I'm not in habit of bowing to manure piles when I pass them."

A scandalized gasp flew out of the mouths of the men sitting around them. Outrageous! Traitorous! That Bastard! The murmurs started to thicken the air like spoiled milk.

Solemnly, the King raised his hand and silence hushed over the room.

"Do you wish for a painful death?" he whispered coarsely. "I can guarantee you'll regret your insolence."

"Any death would suffice. I am on a mission to meet your deceased wife and regale her of your failures."

The shocked whispers grew into voices which echoed around the chamber like the wingbeats of a million doves. Percy could hear them start to rise like the rickety old creatures they were, but he did mind them. The King was frailer then he imagined. Watching him in his throne piled high with cushions, he could see the weakness just pouring out. He couldn't possibly be over fifty, but he had clearly suffered some secret ailments. With the way he pressed his hand to his chest? Things just got interesting.

A weak King is a falling King.

Boom. Ethan rammed the butt of his blade into Percy's temple and he crumpled to the ground. Kneeling with one leg up as dignified as possible. But Percy felt like laughing off the pain. Annabeth intended for him to be here. He could survive this. He could save the kingdom she loved.

"Your Majesty, if I may, I wish to be put in charge of this vagrant." An even toned voice rose above the rest. A man. A thin man, with tall cheek bones and stale blonde hair floated forwards out of the shadow of the corner. Every item of his clothing was embroidered with gold thread, and upon his head stood a lavishly decorated crown shimmering with jewels.

King Octavian.

The King of Gower brushed forward and circled Percy once, then twice. Taking in every aspect of him as if he were inspecting a model to dress up. "Oh yes. I would like to receive the honors of breaking him."

"Why so?" the King rasped.

King Octavian dawdled forward again. Outreaching one of arms with those ridiculous puffed white sleeves to point at Percy's bicep. "Observe these scars. This man is no stranger to pain. And again, here." His slender fingers aired under his chin and across his jaw. "The strongest ones are the most amusing to tear apart."

"I suppose you expect me to fear you from those words." Percy sneered. "But be warned. I'm not afraid of peacocks."

Octavian's face froze. Percy was sure he was to receive another strike to his throbbing head, but instead a disturbed smile snaked up the King of Gowers face. An excited and evil glint in his eye. And it wasn't the dancing candlelight that bounced his pupils.

"You have fire for a heart," Octavian said. "I'm anxious to see how long it will burn for. If his majesty permits me?"

All eyes turned to the King again. The man was half slumped over on his throne. For a heart stopping second, Percy thought perhaps he was watching the demise of his loathsome king, but alas. Lying against the shine of the marble floor was a golden goblet. The King had just overindulged in alcohol. A few hiccups jolted his body.

"Do as you please sir," he sputtered against his own chest.

"Thank you." Octavian snapped his fingers. "Keep him whole for tonight. Feed him well. Tomorrow, after the ceremony at noon, have him in the village square bound by chains. Every hour after the ceremony I will pay him a visit, and keep him in the public eye as an example of how justice will be carried out from now on."

"Tomorrow?" Percy couldn't help the surprise in his voice.

Apparently Ethan was just as caught off guard because he tensed as if someone had cracked a whip in his face.

Octavian oiled his way back over to the Kings side. "Yes. I'm to be married tomorrow. You will make for great entertainment in front of my guests."

With a flighty wave of his hand, Percy was dismissed from the throne room. The two guards grabbed his arms again and dragged him away.

Tomorrow?

Ethan was silent. Pale. Sweating lightly.

What was a scheme before had suddenly become a race.

.oOo.

Between the mumbles of the insane, and the quiet mutterings of those in pain, Percy awoke to the sound of hissing. Before he was even fully awake he was on his feet, hands up, ready to fight.

A cloaked figure stood at the door of his cell. A startlingly sharp smell of acidic burning thickened the moist air. Percy could almost taste it.

Under the dim light of the candle down the hall, he could see the lock of his door melt away.

Hazel peeled back the cloak hood. A glint in her golden eyes.

"I figured it out."

Percy smirked. "Let me guess. It was suspiciously easy getting in here?"

Her expression flattened. "How did you know?"

"C'mon. We've got work to do."

.oOo.

The Gutter had been stormed shortly after his arrest, Percy learned. Thankfully Nico was light on his feet, and faster than a troop of soldiers. The others got out moments before it was set upon.

To talk, his friends had convened in an old pub. The wine cellar actually. Lines of glinting bottles and dusty barrels were stacked against the walls, caging them in. Occasionally they would need to bat at their noses to fight the rank smell of sullied wine.

Compared to the dungeons, however, this cool underground was a haven.

Above them, through the slate wood flooring, drunk men were singing old shanties and mourning the loss of their glory days.

They sat in the frail dark, afraid to be found, and spoke in whispers.

Thalia was helping herself to a jug of ale. Bitterly glaring at him as he tried once more to convince them of his theory.

"She wanted me to see the inside of the palace!"

"She wanted a cushy place to put her feet up and the ability to eat expensive things," Thalia spat. "She betrayed us for nothing more."

"Then why would Ethan Nakumura, Captain of the Royal Guard, tour me around the entire palace?"

"Ever heard of a triumph parade? Perhaps he was just searching for the princess to show her that you had been captured."

"So he went into some bathrooms?"

"I never said he was classy."

"Stop it." Calypso was rubbing her head, poised atop a crate. "This is all too much. Percy, your loyalty is admirable but not this time. Even if this was a scheme Annabeth cooked up to allow us an in, she should've shared her thoughts instead of throwing you under the carriage. Don't you see you can never roam the streets unknown again? The King has seen your face."

The others were nodding along solemnly. Half wouldn't meet his eyes. A million reasons fluttered to his lips but had to stop. He had to make his words count.

"Who would've gone along with such an idea?" he asked, impassioned. "Her plans involved trusting Ethan Nakamura, our sworn enemy. What choice did she have?"

"She had the choice to trust her companions to make the right move," Jason said lowly, leaning against the earthen wall. "She broke that trust."

"Besides, it's not unlikely that she had betrayed us for a better position in society. Annabeth had talked about how she disliked her station. How trapped she felt as a maid," Piper added.

Pressure was building up in Percy's chest. He had so many things he wanted to explain to them. Annabeth's love for Genousa, her strive for change in the powerful and her tenderness to those in need. Before, he'd been battling with her betrayal because it didn't make sense. Annabeth wasn't the kind to throw a friend to the wolves simply to have a place by the fire. She'd taken an arrow for him for crying out loud! How could she be selfless one moment and heartless the next?

No. His theory was the answer. All she wanted was to lift Genousa out from the dumps. To grow a better society. Sure she pulled the rug out from underneath him, but what other options did she have? When in the fight against treachery and greed, there were hardly any sinless scenarios.

Percy stole to feed the poor.

Annabeth betrayed him to mess with the corrupt powers.

To him, it made sense.

"Forget all of it then," he said with a slight bitterness. "Let's look at the facts alone. I've been in and all around the palace. I've seen the Princess. The wedding is tomorrow at noon. The King is ill. The palace is weak in its defenses because all manpower is focused on the Basilicae and Feast Hall. We have all the things we need to pull this off."

Still they sat before him in that cramped cellar, unsure. In the darkness he couldn't quite make out what they were thinking. He held his breath.

Frank folded his hands in front of himself nervously. "Even if we pull it off, get the princess out of the castle and into the city we'll be found. Red hair is a rare trait and a head covering will be suspicious. She's too recognizable."

"Not to mention that they will know exactly who did it and what he looks like as well." Calypso reinstated her point from earlier.

"I could make him a disguise?" Leo offered.

"Not enough time."

"Where would you work? The Gutter is being watched 24/7."

"No money for materials."

Silence slithered between them. Up above, some drunkard was dancing on a table, bouncing the boards and raining dust down into their hair. Nobody moved to brush it away.

"Why are we kidnapping the Princess anyways?" Nico said. "Why don't we just kill the King? He's the one that's forcing the union apparently."

They all paused. It seemed like such a tempting prospect but-
"That would create a power vacuum," Percy said. "The members of the council would use any soldiers they could buy to fight the other members of the council. Not to mention King Octavian acts as if he is already ruler. That could plunge Genousa in a war against Gower, if the council puts up a fight."

Nico shrugged as if it were no big deal. "Well why not just dismantle the council and kill the King."

"That would take an army." Percy tried not to sound condescending. These truths should've been obvious to his cousin. Why did he look like he was declaring the magnum opus of ideas? "We'd need forces to overpower all members of the council and the palace at the same time."

"An angry mob would do the trick," Nico offered. "We have a city of crushed people who would do anything for you, a poorly defended palace and one night. They've been talking about a revolt for years so why not make one?"

Percy blinked. Shifted positions. Blinked again.

He could feel his crew watching him. Waiting for him to make the first judgement on the idea, as they had no clue what to think of it. It certainly was daring.

"The people wouldn't do anything for me," he finally said.

"But what if they did?" Thalia countered. "We could take down the entire Kingdom."

"It would still leave a power vacuum," Percy protested.

For a heavy moment, they were silent. Sharing something between their eyes without even a whisper of a word. Percy tried to be patient, but he was dying to ask-

"What?"

Piper shifted. "Well… clearly if you led a revolt to overthrow the current monarchy… you would take over as the new King of Genousa."

A burbling laugh rolled up Percy's throat. Him? Sitting on that gaudy throne, a slanted golden crown on his brow as he leered down at some other human mess who challenged his authority? Absurd. Abominable. A thief cannot be made into a King.

Chortling, he looked for the joke in his friends eyes, but never found it. They were serious.

"Me?!" he asked. "Ridiculous."

"I doubt a crown would fit on your ego inflated head," Thalia agreed. "But you would be most suitable out of all of us."

"Why, because of my nit-picky habits?" Percy scoffed.

"Because you care," Thalia said without a hum of humor. The dead set lock in her blue eyes halted his thoughts.

Thalia was rarely ever serious.

"You care about the man on the lowest rung of the social ladder. You care about the starving, and the sick, and the imprisoned. Genousa doesn't need a great King right now, it just needs one that cares."

All around they murmured in approval. Percy's heartbeat was in his throat. They couldn't be sure of this. Okay, so he cared about those in need but not the whole fall-trodden kingdom! Who would thrust him into such a position and expect good things? It was a well of disappointment waiting to happen.

"But the people wouldn't do anything for me," he reiterated a bit desperately.

Nico raised an eyebrow. A challenge.

Wordlessly, he pushed off the wooden beam of the doorway, and clopped up the uneven stairway. Percy followed, concerned but mostly intrigued.

"Attention everyone!" Nico barged into the pub, cloak flowing in his wake dramatically.

Across the wooden boards and under the deep hunkering candlelight, a bucketful of hungry eyes twisted in Nico's direction. Some shaded with booze, others high and alert. Deciding what to do from their chipped chairs and stained tables. In the quiet, the only noise that penetrated was the steady drip of candle wax as it spilled down the beams in the room.

"Tomorrow the Princess of Genousa will be wed to the villainous King Octavian of Gower, effectively merging our kingdoms and subjecting us to new horrors," Nico continued steadily. Seriously. "If the Raven led a revolt, would you join?"

"Yes," The bartender answered without hesitancy. Setting down his cleaning rag with such a sense of finality that Percy felt his heart sway. At least he had one faithful follower amongst a sea of blank faces. He was sober too. He'd gladly play King for that one man if it meant bringing him ease.

"Anyone else?" Nico asked a little weaker.

Mutters. Either they were talking to each other or mumbling into their mugs. Uncertainty was a plague of its own sometimes. In the wavering candlelight it was hard to focus on only one face.

"Why should we?" Some drunk banged his fist against the table, splashing his full mug of ale against his own arm. "The Raven's a nice one fer sure but I ain't gonna die for him."

"Why should you?" Percy scoffed. Stepping in front of Nico to take the helm again. A sudden and violent twist in his gut. "Why should you? Are you not sick of living this dreamless existence? When was the last time any of you looked at your children and felt hope for their future? When was the last time you came home from work and didn't have to worry about food or shelter or any other basic things? I'm not asking you to fight for me. I'm barely a shadow in your lives, I'm a passing stranger amongst men. I'm asking you to fight for yourselves! Your futures! Your dreams! Fight for a world where you don't need to struggle to simply survive!"

The Raven! There were whispers. Mutters of shock. Some craned their heads to get a better look at him. Percy had to fight the urge of slinking away and hiding behind his crew.

The drunk was unfazed. Perhaps the ale was addling in his brain. "You'll make things worse for us!" he cried. "They'll enslave us!"

Percy turned on him. Octavian's voice rang in his ear. Fire for a heart. It was true, he could feel it. Burning so magnificently that it threatened to swallow him alive. "You are already enslaved! Enslaved by your poverty and destitution! Enslaved by sickness and death! Whatever simple pleasures you have now will be stolen from you by King Octavian. It's a now or never moment!"

There was an indiscernible shout. Arguments flared up like a pile of chickens fighting over a kernel of corn. Shirts were grabbed, voices raised, tension heated the air until the bartender shattered a glass against the wall. Inducing a pregnant silence.

Stoically, he rounded the bar and faced Percy with an unwavering confidence. He was a stocky man. Middle-aged but strong looking, with deep set wrinkles starting to pull at the edges of his cheeks and mouth. His earthen eyes spoke of past hardships and wisened moments.

"Because of you, my son didn't starve. I will fight for both myself and for you, Raven."

Percy couldn't help the smile that peeled up his parched lips. He patted his new compatriot on the shoulder and scanned the pub again. "Well that's one. Any others?"

Four. Then six. Then eighteen. Soon all twenty seven men stood before him save for the skeptical drunk, who was guzzling some more ale unbothered.

This was happening. They were going to overthrow the King. Would Percy truly become King? He didn't know. All he knew was that the air was alive with static and potential.

Plans, ideas, precautions, worries, and excitement flooded his head. As he looked over the small crowd before him he felt as if he were struck by lightning.

This was going to work.

"I need all of you to go wake up your cousins, your brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles. Anyone who can and will fight! Tell them to gather in the square! We attack at dawn!" He yelled while moving out of the way to let them by. They stampeded into the street. Whatever fever Percy was burning with, he'd definitely just infected the others.

"Frank! Go down to the farms and recruit who you can. Get them to bring their tools. Shovels, pitchforks, scythes, hoes, rakes, axes, whatever they have. Thalia? Steal him a horse."

Percy stormed out of the building and into the night. He watched his two friends slink away under the moonlight. Oh how fresh the air felt against his lungs. How good was it to be alive in such a time? If only Annabeth were standing next to him, he'd twirl her once and then kiss her until her limbs went limp from love.

"Piper, wake up any of your fellow cooks. We need knives, tell them to bring whatever they have. Calypso, find your wonderful housewife friends, tell them we need some kickass ladies to put the King in his place. Hazel, how quickly can you whip up some more of that metal melting acid?"

Hazel shuffled her feet. "Eight hours?"

"Make it five." He was almost dancing. Moving down the street with the palace before him. Its pale walls were bathed in nightly glow.

"I'll… I'll try."

"Good. Nico? Go to your weapons dealers, see what they'll give up."

Nico snorted. "You think they'll just give you swords? They need payment."

"Then take Jason and go down to the old oak behind the second tree near the Gutter. Dig under the largest root. You'll find sufficient funds there."

"Where did those funds come from?" Jason wrinkled his nose. Always the hero, that boy.

Percy waved him off. "The ten percent of every theft from the last five years. Now begone."

Nico rolled his eyes at him, but still hurried away. A new spring in his step as if this scheme had brought him life.

"Leo." Percy turned to his last remaining friend. Grinning in such a way that he was sure poor Leo was uneasy.

"You want me to make you a crown right now?" Leo asked with a slight smirk.

"Perish the thought. I'm going to need a mask… and a cloak."

.oOo.

The dawn was red and orange like a lavish flower garden in the nobles estates. For a few precious minutes, the sanctity of early morning was uninterrupted.

Then came the footsteps on cobblestone, thousands of them. Torch light licked against the fine buildings in the upper ring of the kingdom, chasing the last of the darkness away. Clinks of metal mixed with anxious breaths hung in the still air. Percy led the way, Frank and Jason on either side of him and Hazel directly behind. A sea of heads bobbed like tormented waters.

He was positive he saw a tell-tale golden blonde in the mix but he wouldn't dwell on it. Annabeth would reveal herself in time, Percy was sure of it. She'd explain what he already knew, and he'd be the one to kiss her this time.

The white walls of the palace loomed before them.

They'd never seemed so tall, so bleached, so untouched before. Above, pacing the crest of the walls were soldiers, their armor shining in the new sunlight. He counted fourteen who watched them, unsure what to do.

Percy reshifted his new mask on his face. It was stiff and slightly uncomfortable, but he wanted the royals to know who breached their halls.

Decidedly, he raised his fist. An unholy cry of the broken shattered the silence. Screeching off the edges and echoing out into the farthest reaches of the city. It had begun.

They charged forward as one. Meeting the wall, meeting the iron gate in their way halting as if they were trapped in an eddy.

"NOW!" Percy yelled over the crowds.

A whistle of arrows arched into the air. Screams of those hit sent a ripple of excitement through the mob, but Percy knew there was no cause for celebration. Not yet.

Lashes of chains looped in the air and caught on the battlements. Metal scraping stone. Exclamations of joy when they caught. Someone passed a chain to Percy and he started to climb. Between the shouts from above and another flurry of arrows, he made sure that Hazel was right underneath him. Wary of her small figure and praying that she wouldn't fall.

A flash of light drew his eyes up. A sword. A soldier kept him from crawling over. Scrambling, Percy double looped his hand on the pinching chain and unsheathed his own sword just in time. The clatter of metal on metal was the first utterance of a true battle. Below him the mob cried in support.

He could do this.

Percy forced himself up against the locked blades. Overpowering the soldier behind and finding a hold with his foot in the space between battlements. He slashed downwards, forcing him back. Two jumped to the soldier's aid.

A shiver of strain was in his aching muscles, but he darted forward like a madman. Slashing and stabbing in lightning paces. This sword wasn't Riptide, but it was still lethal. Two soldiers fell in a shower of red. He hip checked the third over the side, sending him screaming into the throbbing matt of humans below.

"Where's the gate?" Hazel yelled above the screams radiating from behind him. Nico had secured her a saber that she used with unprecedented skill. Blood already dripped down its curve and into her sleeve.

Charging up behind her, more soldiers stomped. But still more intent revolters came crawling over the edge of the walls like spiders to meet them. As long as the slew of royal guard was distracted, Percy had his chance.

"Here!" Percy sprinted down the narrow rampart, bouldering past a few mini skirmishes. Hazel was hot on his heels. When he stopped, he stood directly over where the giant metal gate below was. Two latches held the sandbag weights in the air, dangling by thick chains.

Unceremoniously, Hazel yanked a bulbous vial out of her belt loop and uncorked it with her teeth. She poured its sick green contents delicately on the latches, immediately summoning that deep belly quivering hissing noise Percy had woken up to only hours before.

The latch crumpled like a sandcastle to the tides, the sandbag weights dropped to the ground. The gate lifted, spilling a mess of humans into the palace grounds in a fan of sprinting glory.

Percy hooked his hands on the gate chain, letting himself practically fall to the earth below. He rolled once and got to his feet running. Frank, Jason, Nico, Thalia, Piper, Calypso and Leo were waiting for him.

"What now?" Frank asked.

"Jason, Piper, you take the east wing. Nico and Thalia take the west. Calypso and Leo will search the upstairs east and Frank, you come with me to the throne room. When any of you find Ethan Nakamura, send word to me. He'll be guarding the Princess. I want her alive. She holds power over King Octavian as his betrothed. Got it?" Percy straightened his cloak again. He needed to look good for his majesty. "And make sure King Octavian doesn't die. We don't want war."

They affirmed and took off on their own. All around, the fighting had already begun. Splatters of blood randomly slicked the perfect cropped grass, white bodies of soldiers and peasants lay lopsided under the slanted sun. Soldiers were trying to blockade the doors of the palace but it was too much. It was an infestation of peasants. A plague of them. They couldn't fight them all and so they fell. Joyously, the mob poured in through the doors. Percy stepped over the corpses of the fallen guards and let his eyes go scan the room.

Two over, that's where the staircase was. Bless Ethan Nakamura and his cheesy little crush. Calmly, Percy tapped Frank's shoulder and motioned him forward.

Debris was already scattered on the marble floors. Shreds of portraits, torn curtains and splinters of chests that had been shattered so the insides could be looted. A shrieking maid went waddling past. A peasant was cackling over a set of ivory flasks torn from the cabinets. Percy crunched over the shards of a broken vase and hit the stairs with some elegance. Compared to the mayhem below, upstairs was a haven of peace and perfection. The long hallway, lit from the morning sunshine streaming through the windows, hadn't a disturbance in them. It would be long before every ounce of finery had been peeled from the walls.

The throne room was empty. Percy didn't really expect the King to still be seated in his gilded chair. However, he suspected the Kings quarters were close to the throne room. In such a sickly state, he doubted his majesty would want to walk far to complete his duties. And he was right.

At the end of the hall, two soldiers stood nervously, guarding a room he had no doubt contained the king.

"Is his majesty available?" Percy asked kindly, sword drawn and angled so the light glinted off its metal.

Through his helmet, one guard flicked his gaze between Percy and Frank. "He asked to not be disturbed."

Percy lowered his weapon. "Well, here are your options. You can die by our hands, or die by an angry mob, thousands strong. Or, you may step aside. Save yourselves and not have the trouble of dying in the first place."

The first one seemed skeptical, but the second dropped his sword with an alarming clatter immediately. He put his hands up and nudged his friend. Together, they shuffled off down the hall, armor clanking.

"I thought we'd have to kill them for sure," Frank sighed in relief.

"People are quite sensible when you draw things out for them in black and white," Percy muttered, slinking forward. The knob was cold against his fingers, he cracked the door open.

Silence. Emptiness.

He ambled forward on his toes. Every little distant noise felt like static in his ears. Nothing was close by. He couldn't even detect the sound of a brush of cloth. Percy waved Frank onward.

The room was wide and tall. Paintings graced the domed ceiling, and between two massive windows facing the gardens was a four post bed. A lump buried under the rich silken red duvet.

Sparkles of nervous energy fluttered up Percy's neck. He could see the head of the king buried in his feather pillow. That plain gold crown still planted on his head. Holding his breath, he raised his sword.

But he didn't strike. He was stuck there, frozen.

Something wasn't right.

"He's dead," Percy uttered in disbelief. Letting his sword fall to his side again. "He's already dead."

The King's mouth was hanging open, limp. A puddle of saliva was against his sheets. His empty eyes stared outward like two sunken marbles. When Percy peeled back the covers, he found a small wound in his back, coated in ruddy brown and caked blood.

"How?" Frank flanked the other side of the bed.

Percy sneered. "My guess? King Octavian. He would only get to be supreme ruler of Gower and Genousa when the King was dead. He simply sped up the process. A little prematurely if you ask me, but all the same."

Percy pried the crown off the King's head. Judging by the stiffness in his neck and shoulders, he'd been dead since midnight. Potentially killed right after Percy had met with him.

Percy sheathed his sword. "We need to secure the crown princess. If King Octavian makes off with her and marries her in some faraway corner, nothing can stop the kingdoms from merging. Nothing can save us from that scum monster. Then all of this will be for nought."

.oOo.

Reinforcements for the royal guard arrived. All hands who had been assigned to guard the feasting hall and basilica came flooding towards the palace.

Percy found Jason amongst the pillagers working the floor and snagged him by the arm. "Collect any men you can, go defend the wall. We cannot allow them back in. Frank, go with him."

Jason shouted into the mass of people and a cry of obedience returned. They stampeded away, holding up their pitchforks and axes like symbols of honor. The floor trembled with their power.

Percy zig-zagged through the mayhem. Hazel charged past, saber swinging, drenched in somebody else's blood. Calypso was chatting with her village friends. Casually dropping pots over the banister of upstairs to brain unsuspecting soldiers as they passed underneath.

Percy hadn't a clue where Leo was, but he smelled fire and that was a hint enough.

"Percy!" Nico appeared with a smug Thalia by his side. "We found Ethan!"

Two stout peasants were holding the Captain of the royal guard in place. Dents misshapenned his armor, and a purple bruise was rising on his one good eye. Percy tried not to seem too pleased with his battered appearance. Sure the man was on their side technically, but that didn't mean Percy didn't hate his guts. It had been five years of running from this little dragon breathed beast and he wasn't about to forgive him for it either.

"He was in the ballroom," the man holding the scruff of his chainmail said proudly.

The other reached out to the crown looped under Percy's shoulder. "Is that real?"

"You two, go spread the word that the King is dead." Percy dismissed with a wave of his hand, ignoring Nico and Thalia's quick shock.

The two of them dropped Ethan to the floor like a pile of firewood. For the Captain of the Royal Guard, he crumpled rather quickly, and struggled to even sit upright.

Percy put a foot on Ethan's hand, stopping him from rising to his feet.

"Where's the Princess?" he demanded. "Shouldn't you have been defending her?"

Ethan scowled up at him through his one swollen eye. "You knew?"

"Of course I knew. You're as subtle as a bag of bricks! Now where is she?"

"She was supposed to come find you!" Ethan growled, yanking his fingers back with a terrible creak. Amicably, he remained kneeling.

"Well she's not with me."

"Clearly."

"So where is she?"

"How am I supposed to know if you don't?"

Percy clenched the hilt of his sword. The knot of tension in his throat jolted up. "YOU WORK HERE!"

"YOU LED THIS INVASION! Shouldn't you have put at least one of your people on look out duty for the princess?"

Percy rubbed his head. His new mask was starting to feel heavy against his nose. He longed to rip it off, but right now it was his only distinguishing mark for people to listen to him. With clenched teeth, he reached over and pulled the sword from Ethan's sheath.

Riptide. A thrill went up his spine at the perfect balance back in his hands.

"I'll take that back now, thank you," Percy said. Replacing the hollow in Ethan's sheath with the simple sword Nico had given to him that morning. "Now we can't just sit here idly. Ethan, can you call off the soldiers at the wall?"

"Not unless I have a royal surrender. Her highness was planning on giving one immediately, since she's not here-"

"Why can't you just pretend?" Nico prodded.

"Because King Octavian will counter me. Unless there is a surrender with a royal seal, my word is useless."

Gritting his teeth, Percy rolled backwards on his heels. Thinking, thinking, thinking. But it was so hard to think with so much jumping on about him. He couldn't simply block out the wails of the dying, the cry of those searching for justice, or the clash of metal as two powers fought for one position.

Annabeth would know what to do. But there wasn't enough time. He couldn't comb through a mass of humans for one person. Wherever she was, she was hitting the enemy in its most crucial spot, he was sure of it. She'd trusted him to get this far, so farther he would go.

"Thalia, Nico. End the chaos inside the palace. I want you to form a small battlement of anyone and take out every remaining opposing force you can find. Once you're done that, guard every entrance to the palace. Got it?"

Thalia nodded once, Nico already had his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. Together, they stormed down the hallway with their cloaks fluttering. He bit his own tongue at the thought of never seeing them again.

Focus.

With semi-disgust, Percy notched his thumb into Ethan's armor and hauled him to his feet. "You're bringing me to all the places the Princess will most likely be. She is within the Palace walls, right?" Percy could just stand there to think. Anxiously, he started down the hall. His boots echoed off the marble floor.

"Probably," Ethan muttered.

"Probably?!"

"She has ways of slinking out. Secret passages I suspect. She would never confirm my theories but how else would she escape the palace to come see me?"

"Rendezvous's. I see." Percy stopped. "Any guesses as to where this secret exit might be?"

Ethan pointed up ahead. They were coming round to the conservatory, the place Percy had first seen the Princess. "Her Majesty, the Queen's, private bed chambers were constructed directly above where we're walking now so she could be close to her beloved greenhouse."

"Flower enthusiast?"

"Botanist. She was studying medicinal plants to assist the hospitals. When she died the King had left her room untouched, and decided to simply brick up the entrance. From what I gathered about the Queen, she was a particular sort of woman who did not appreciate the constant security. If there ever was a secret passage created, it would've been built for her so she could get from her room, to the greenhouse, and out to the hospital without garnering any notice."

"A people's champion," Percy murmured under his breath. Remembering the ways his mother described the graceful Queen when he was a boy. "So how do we get into the Queen's chambers?"

Ethan stopped cold. Paling. "Oh no. No. We can't go into her chambers. They were boarded up for a reason."

Percy stopped again. "Does it have windows?"

"Of course it has windows."

"Are those boarded up?"

"Oh no. Don't even think about-"

Too late. Percy unlatched the nearest pane and vaulted himself over the ledge. His feet hit perfectly trimmed grass, greener than a luxury emerald at a noble woman's throat and he jogged down the side of the building. Grazing the butt of his palm against the rough pale brick, his eyes skyward.

There. Her majesty's darkened windows. A well placed trellis, empty of vines, was bolted to the stone wall. Scaling it was almost impossibly easy.

"We're wasting our time! Her highness is probably in the streets someplace!" Ethan followed grudgingly.

Percy wasn't paying attention. Beneath his fingers was a smear of blood, fresh and red. Dribbles of it were painted up the side of the trellis, adhering to the metal. Someone had been there before him.

A clench tightened in his throat. Cautiously, he waved at Ethan to be silent and crept upwards. The window to her Majesty's forgotten chambers was already ajar. From within, a clash of metal was singing in a tone deaf melody. As he peeked over the edge he found a room caked in dust and coated in cobwebs. What once was a room that shone with gold, silver, and painted in all expensive colours was now dull and dark.

"You snake!" It was King Octavian. Percy could recognize his beetly voice anywhere.

The blonde scarecrow of a King was scuffling in the corner, throwing up dust and thrashing his arms about in a wild attempt to bury his sword into his opponent.

The Princess?

No. This girl had golden blonde hair and a fury so passionate in her grey eyes it was as if she were sucking the light from the room herself.

She found the most crucial point. Percy's heart swelled with pride.

Annabeth parried with her dagger and stepped in closer to try and reach Octavian's heart, but he pranced backwards like a cornered rat. Screeching obscenities.

Her brow was licked with sweat, blood glinted crimson in her hands. How long had this fight been going on for? Both must've been evenly matched.

Springing upwards, he flipped into the room and drew Riptide. Before Octavian even had time to swivel around, Percy had his sword level with the back of his neck. A haughty grin already on his face at the easy victory.

Flushed with glory he met Annabeth's gaze expecting her to mirror how he felt. But no. Instead her eyes were wide with fear. That same skittish look he saw the night she kissed him and ran off into the darkness. At first he dared to think that it was because of him, that he scared her. But the longer he stood there, the more evident it became that she was scared of what he was seeing. Her clothes hadn't registered until now.

White. Silken. A beautiful wedding gown with bell sleeves and a square neckline that displayed her delicate collarbone and blushing skin. A choker of diamonds encased her graceful neck and nestled in the finely woven hairstyle of gold sat a silver tiara of vines and diamond flowers.

Unconsciously, Percy's sword lowered. He couldn't swallow this.

"Annabeth?" his voice shook.

No. Your highness. Part of him corrected.

In his weakness, Octavian locked his sword around and clashed riptide away. A jolt of panic seized up Percy's spine when the catch of metal sliced through his side. Cold. Ice. He couldn't feel his hip but the heat of blood that rushed down his legs in long liquid strings, clinging to his clothes. Percy stumbled back. Rivets of thoughts were pulsing through his head.

Survive! His brain screamed. Just survive!

When Octavian stepped forward again, menace in his eyes, Percy rolled backwards. Scooping up his sword as he went. Their metal met with a clang that echoed over the walls. Annabeth came storming from behind.

Forcing all the power he possessed into one swing, Percy launched at Octavian. Their blades rang, Octavian was forced back. The tip of Annabeth's dagger must've tickled between his shoulders, because his face twisted in surprise. Then it dawned. He was trapped.

"Really Elouise," Octavian rasped. "Consorting with such piggery."

Annabeth twisted her dagger in such a way that it caught the grim light seeping between the wood of the east boarded windows.
"I have more respect for this thief than a million Kings," she spat.

The pain was starting to blossom in his spliced flesh, but every burning sensation was washed away with her sharp spoken words. Gingerly, Percy held a hand to his wound and tried not to look too in love with her. Should Octavian read his starry eyes, he was sure he would try and take advantage of it.

"I warn you Elouise," Octavian wagged one of his bony fingers. "Continue this mayhem, this tyranny, this outrage and I will call for war. I won't stop until every citizen of Genousa, noble or otherwise is-"

A wooden jewelry box collided with Octavian's skull. The royal crumpled to the ground without even a whimper of noise to protest the violent contact. For a second, Percy caught Annabeth's confused face before they both looked to their right.

Ethan was leaning against Her Majesty's old vanity. Tired, sore, and thoroughly done with life. "I hate that guy."

Annabeth- Her Highness dropped her hands to her side and fished around in the folds of her dress. She produced a folded sheet of paper, crisp and white, with a ruby red seal of the monarchy.

"The surrender." She offered it to Ethan daintily.

Despite his ragged armor and clear bruises, Ethan bowed like a willow in the winds and took it without concern.

"And what is to be done about the King of Gower?" he asked dutifully.

"Throw him in the dungeons and forget he ever existed," Percy growled bitterly.

Her Highness tensed. From the corner of his eye, Percy caught her clenching her fists. It couldn't be possible that she intended for this varmint to go free, did she?

Ethan nodded curtly. "I will retrieve some men to help… relocate him."

Fumbling, he disappeared over the ledge of the window and creaked away down the trellis.

Alone with the Crown Princess of Genousa, Percy realized. Alone with Annabeth. His brain still felt like a wizard's trick puzzle. Everything was jumbled and loose as if his mind had experienced an inner earthquake that had tossed all his knowledge like a salad.

Percy stole a glance at her. A twisted gnarl in his heart. She refused to look at him, still standing straighter than a statue.

How was he supposed to address her now? Annabeth? Her Highness? Elouise? Princess Elouise? Somehow it all felt wrong.

How was I so blind before? Pieces were slotting into place. Her smooth unworked hands free from calluses, her fragrant smell of lemon soap, her unblemished skin, her iron will. All this time she was a royal sitting in the Gutter. High blood amongst mutts.

It's just Annabeth. A part of him said. A different status does not mean she is a different person.

"With that surrender," Annabeth said softly. Scared in fact. "I am void of my position, and am put completely at your mercy. All that I request is that I am either exiled or executed. I could not stand the dungeons. Not again."

Percy gripped the hilt of his sword tighter. Pain was flowing freely from the slash in his side but he had to wipe it away. He hobbled forward, using Riptide as a cane. That fire of torment screamed in his belly.
"My love, I don't know how you can think I would do anything so cruel to you. Do you know me at all?"

He searched for her gaze but she wouldn't meet him. A glassiness swam in her grey eyes as she kept her stiff posture and unwavering tone. Again she fell away from his reach to stand by the Queen's old vanity, brushing her fingers over the mahogany with a mournful air.

"I am from the class that repressed the ones below. My family killed your mother and forced you into a life as an outcast simply so you could survive. I've lied to you about my identity for two whole years and still you want to call me your love?" Pain laced her words.

Percy shrugged loosely. A ghost of a smile on his lips. "I don't know what else to call you."

"A liar for starters." Gripping her hands together, she met his eyes through the mirror. "A weak princess."

Percy shifted. The crown was still heavy against his shoulder. The small wound in the King's back made sense now. "You killed the king didn't you. With my little poison dagger too."

Annabeth flinched. "I… I had to. Father was… Well he was the catalyst for thousands of suffering."

"You organized my tour around the palace," Percy hummed. "You didn't accidentally come across my little organization. You sought me out. You needed a rescue mission."

She twirled around to face him. "You think I wanted to be saved? I-"

"You wanted someone to save your kingdom," Percy interrupted knowingly. Taking a timid step towards her as he prayed that this time she wouldn't run. "You're hardly a maiden trapped in a tower. You could've saved yourself any time you wanted by simply never returning to the palace. But you couldn't abandon your people like that."

"How could I? After all my Father had done to them, the least they deserved was my efforts."

"The fact I could piece all of that together proves that I know you. You didn't lie to me about who you are, not really. The Annabeth I knew is the same as… well you. Princess Elouise was it?"

She flinched. "No. No, please don't call me that. It's a despicable name. My mother named me Annabeth. My father named me Elouise to scrub any remnants of my mother from his life."

Wincing, Percy edged closer. "Then Princess Annabeth."

"Just Annabeth," she countered.

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Alright, Annab-Ah!"

He doubled forward.

The adrenaline had officially worn off. Although the slice in his side was only skin deep, it was long and diagonal. Sending shards of pain reeling into the depths of his body and prickling the back of his neck from the blood loss. It burned in eight different intensities and danced spots in front of his eyes.

Annabeth gripped his elbow and guided him to a chaise lounge cloaked in a large white sheet. A puff of dust rolled off when he collapsed into its comfort. At first he thought that Annabeth was displeased by him, but when his vision stopped spinning he could see that her eyebrows were simply down in concentration. With her dagger, she cut a long strip of white silk from her gown.

"Your beautiful dress," Percy protested.

Annabeth started again on another strip, watching carefully to keep the width even. "The dress is replaceable, you are not."

She worked quickly. Ripping away his garments to expose the wound and working in the silk with quick delicate movements. Despite the fire claiming his side, he remained motionless. Watching her expression shift in the dimness and the care of her fingers as she tied off a knot. An extra beat was in his ribcage.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he prodded gently. Resisting the urge to reach up and cradle her face and smooth out the coils of concern tightening her lips.

Annabeth paused, her hands frozen mid knot. "And risk losing you?"

"Losing me?" Percy laughed weakly. "If I knew you were betrothed to marry a pig, or desperate to save your people out of the goodness of your dutiful heart I would've arranged a revolt in minutes. I would've been outside your window in a half a day. I would have done anything. I would do anything."

Annabeth thought about this slowly. "Anything?"

Percy nodded solemnly.

Tenderly, she reached out and brushed against the lip of the crown Percy had falling onto his bicep.

"Would you become King for me?" she asked. Pegging him with her deep eyes again. Those slow spun stars sparkling in her gaze.

Percy captured her hand and interlaced their fingers. "Only through marriage."

A dreamy smile picked up Annabeth's lips. A starry expression that was the closest thing to an admittance of love that Percy had ever received. He guessed that now he truly saw her, it was easier for her to let down her walls.

Bewitched, she leaned down and kissed him tenderly. Igniting him with a wave of heat and spinning him into clouds seen solely under the light of a sunrise. Although she lay on top of him, he couldn't feel the pain in his side. Only her warmth, her touch, and the feel of her body in his arms.

Annabeth pulled away softly, holding his face as if he were the most precious thing she'd ever dared to grasp between her fingers. "Marry me then."

Percy smiled. "No."

Through their clothes, he could feel her heart drop. One simple word that sent her back into a spiral of doubt. Already the questions poured into her eyes and she tried to pull back, but Percy was prepared. He held on tight, ready to never let go of her again.

"Because I don't think you need marriage right now," he said. Brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "I think you need time to be exactly who you want to be. No one telling you what to do or how to act."

"Then who will rule the kingdom?" She thought he hadn't thought this through but she was wrong. It took him eight seconds to figure out the perfect solution. One to maximize his beloved's happiness.

"You would of course."

Annabeth's eyes widened. "Me?! I'm not allowed to become Queen unless I'm married."

"Says who?"

"Says everybody! The council, the world, my own father."

Percy chortled. "The council has been destroyed, the outside world doesn't dictate you and your father is currently lying dead in his bed so I think you're free to do anything you want to."

Annabeth's face softened. A faraway look shone in her eyes as if this were the first time she'd even dreamt of assuming the throne by herself. Judging by her words and her terrible father, it probably was.

I could not stand the dungeons. Not again. A shiver of rage twitched up his spine. He'd kill the King if he wasn't already dead. What else had she been subjected to behind these ashen walls?

"A Queen," Annabeth murmured. "Do you really think I could?"

Percy kissed her palm. "My darling, you were my Queen before I ever knew you owned a crown."

Blushing, she chortled and covered his mouth with her hand as if she were afraid he'd spout more lyrical nonsense.

"You romantic idiot," she sighed with a cheek splitting grin.

Ignoring the pain, Percy surged forward and met their lips once more. Entwining his arms around her slender back and drawing her so close that his tight lungs felt like popping. Annabeth melted into him willingly, slipping her fingers up into his black locks.

Finally Percy released that tense bubble in his chest. He kissed her how he always wanted to kiss her. Not like an animal driven by hunger but more like thirst. She was the flame of his life, the heart stopping field of breathlessness. A flurry of butterflies and open skies.

All passion, all love. His sternum thudded joyously with heat.

When they had to fall away, Percy held her close. Keeping their foreheads together, their noses brushing. Just her besotted expression alone was enough to get him drunk on her once more.

"So," she breathed, brushing lips with him. Addicted to the high. "For the record, you still want to marry me?"

Percy grinned against her. "This second if possible."

"Then why wait?"

"My love, don't tempt me," Percy whispered hoarsely. He gave her one more chaste but lasting kiss. "I want you to know what it's like to live independently first. I want you to feel as if you truly understand yourself. Above all else, I want the world to know how capable you are. If you ascend to the throne with a King by your side, nobody will ever look at you. I want you to be seen, to be revered and to be respected by everyone in not only this kingdom but in all the neighboring ones as well. After all that is accomplished, if you still want to marry me-"

"Absolutely."

Percy's smile hurt his face. "Then we will get married. When you're truly ready."

Annabeth reached up to hold his face again. A soft gratitude lifted up the edges of her eyebrows and the corners of her soft lips. The kind that mellowed in her gaze and pulled stories of years without dependable people by her side.

"Thank you," she whispered. Glassy eyed.

"I love you," was the only answer he had. It was the only answer that counted.

"I love you too."

.oOo.

Order was harder to re-establish then Percy had originally perceived. Under Ethan, the soldiers were kept in line and reclaimed their positions along the palace wall. Every rebel and rioter slowly trickled away from the palace with their new goods, eager to sell them.

What once was a haven of glory, wealth, and beauty was left in ruins. Everything valuable had been pillaged, but Percy didn't mind. In fact, he was impressed at how cleanly the entire place had been looted. It was as if the palace were now bones of what it once was. Bones ready for a fresh start, for some new life, and some youthful authority.

Percy had the dead laid out on the expanse of lawns surrounding the palace. Mourners were free to come in and claim their lost loved ones, noble and villager alike. Percy even found a suitable cart and driver to fare the bodies away to be fit with coffins.

Although, if he had to find a light in the darkness it would have to be the fact that more dead lay in armor than in cotton. His rebels had been fierce and unforgiving.

Driven by desperation… He thought solemnly.

But not anymore. From the marble balcony at the head of the palace, overlooking the kingdom, he could hear their celebrations in session. Musicians walked the cobbled streets with their instruments, pubs had their doors wide open and flowed with shanties and songs of victory, and crowns of spring flowers had been fashioned to top every rejoicing head.

"This is the first time I've stood here and heard happiness," Annabeth sighed.

Her head was resting against his shoulder, his arm was looped around her waist. Warmth danced in his chest with a dizzying lightness. He had it in his mind to never let her go. This time he was sure she wouldn't try to get away from him anyways.

"What did you hear before?" Percy asked.

"Beggars mostly. They would bang their tin cups against the iron of the gates and cry out about their dying families. I used to send my lady-in-waiting, Rachel, down to sneak them valuables and food. Father would eventually get sick of them and round up a few for the dungeon."

Percy squeezed her closer. "Did he ever find out that you…"

"Treated them like humans?" Annabeth tensed. "Yes. He was enraged and he… well that time is over."

Percy kissed her temple lovingly. "Yes it is."

The future was before them. Had this been what Annabeth was dreaming of when she concocted this crazy plan? Standing next to him on a balcony of the palace, hearing joy for the first time from the liberated? By the soft contentment in her eyes, he figured it was.

"So Ethan Nakamura," Percy said. "I thought he was helping for selfish reasons but…"

Annabeth chortled. "Who do you think found out your identity and reported back to me? If Ethan Nakamura wasn't the Captain of the royal guard, I never would've been able to do anything."

Percy let his gaze follow the carvings on the banister of the balcony. Delicate vines peppered with dusty pink morning glories reached and wound around every sun-bleached spindle. "I feel bad now. I killed so many of his men."

"He brought the worst of his men out when hunting for you." Annabeth explained. "Rapists, embezellors, men who partook in slave fights and abused their wives."

"I see. I acted as a comb to get rid of his… less admirable soldiers." In the distance, Percy swore he could make out Ethan Nakamura on the wall. Limping, barking orders, looking half ridiculous and half noble. Under the blazing noon day sun he appeared just about ready to collapse but not before making everyone else's life miserable. The man was an oddball he had to admit.

"One of his men tried to shoot me," Percy recalled suddenly. A heavy lump in his throat. "And you took the arrow!"

Annabeth winced. "He is a bit… testy. My father was pressuring him for your corpse. He was close to being executed himself for not having caught you already. He figured that he was more useful to me than you were, so he made a rash decision I barely found out about in time."

"So he's not all great," Percy summed up. "And you satiated him by directing him to arrest me less than a fortnight later."

"Yes," Annabeth said. "Although, he's not truly all that bad either. Even though he hates you with a passion, he never protested the idea of crowning you King in my fathers stead."

"Marvelous. I'll buy him a halo tonight," Percy said dryly.

"A polite thank you will suffice."

"I'll think about it."

Amongst the skyline of slanted roofs and stone block chimneys was the magnificent spire of the basilica. Gleaming under the sun and reminding Percy of exactly what today would have been if they had lost. More had been at stake then he wished to believe. Consciously he held Annabeth a little closer. Thanking his stars that King Octavian of Gower was locked in the darkest part of the dungeon.

From the door behind him, a set of footsteps echoed towards them. A servant appeared. One of the few who remained inside the palace after the panic had begun. Percy was already shining a liking to him by the way he listened without quarrel and was willing to do anything to keep his position.

"They've gathered sir," he said with a quick bow.

Percy interlaced his fingers with Annabeth's. "Ready?"

"Hardly." She gripped his hand back fiercely. A strength in her eyes he knew she was trying to keep up. "But willing."

Together, they found their way down the hall and found the giant staircase. On the first floor, troops were scuttling around, attempting to mop up blood and clean away shards of broken glass. Some would stop to bow to Annabeth, others were still too frazzled to really see beyond their current job.

"Why does this feel like the hardest part of today?" Annabeth whispered. The doors to the dining room stood before them, shut firmly but oddly menacing with their dark stained wood and sharp carved patterns.

"Because you care about them," Percy said simply. "And what they think of you."

"The last time they heard of me, I had just backstabbed you. They must hate me…"

Percy scratched the back of his neck. "Well they aren't too keen… but I think they'll understand once they just see you."

Annabeth released a shaky breath and shook out the jitters in her arms. "Okay… I can do this."

Firmly, Percy set his hands against the double handles and parted the doors open. The gush of sunlight filling the room poured over them and for a moment he had to stand with a hand over his eyes to make out what was before him.

That devilishly long, solid wood table ran the length of the long room, crystal chandeliers hung over them like wreaths of millions of diamonds. Above, sunlight struck through the stained glass ceiling and flooded his vision with hues of deep blue, ruby red, emerald, tangerine and buttercup yellow.

Eight figures were seated at the very tail end of the table. Jason had a bandage wrapped diagonal across his face to cover his eye. Hazel and Leo were sporting arm bandages and Nico's entire side was pillowed with white gauze, stained dark brown. Frank was fumbling with more bandages, clearly still trying to patch everyone up. Calypso was digging around her little jar of medical salve for a few droplets more.

"Annabeth?" Piper rose to her feet at the sight of them. The rest either craned their heads or shifted their chairs around.

All eyes were on them. Tense. Unsure. With an undeniable flightiness.

"Hi," Annabeth said blankly. Percy stood back, she needed to be the center of attention in this.

Under the dazzling fusion of colourful light, soft from the glass, Annabeth looked like a painted wonder. Her white silken dress was a canvas to the sun. His friend's speechlessness was understandable.

"You…" Piper started but didn't get much farther. Obviously staring at Annabeth's elegant tiara.

"... You didn't pillage the princess's wardrobe… did you?" Leo asked skeptically.

Annabeth clenched her dress between her hands. "It's difficult to fully explain in just a few short sentences."

Thalia leaned back in her chair. Her eyes squinted with suspicion. "I thought Jason and Percy both identified the Princess to be a redhead."

Chatters of agreement followed her words. Percy bit his tongue back into place. Although he had a million things to say he couldn't intrude. Not now.

"My lady-in-waiting, Rachel. She is the redhead they both saw." Annabeth gently took the silver tiara from her head and floated forward. Softly, she placed it in the middle of the dining table as if it were an offering of peace. With a few pulls at her scalp, she undid her hair and it fell into that familiar waterfall of golden curls, right down to her waist.

"So this entire time…" Calypso trailed off.

Annabeth raised her chin. Meeting everyone's eyes with that bold and iron clad stubbornness Percy fell in love with. "I'm not reaching for your forgiveness. I understand I deceived you, and how hurt you must feel by that. Honestly, I think I could've done a few things better but what is done is done. My Kingdom is saved because of you and for that I'm eternally grateful."

Jason readjusted the bandage on his face. "That's why you wouldn't admit your feelings to Percy."

Leo shook his head. "Percy the womanizer is gone forever."

"If you needed our help, why not just ask?" Frank asked. Always ever the useful one.

"I was afraid," Annabeth admitted. "I didn't want to be expelled or treated differently just because…"

"Just because you're the second highest in the Kingdom?" Hazel crossed her arms. "Perhaps a few of us would try and exploit that but-"

"Where is your armory and how much stuff can I have from it?" Nico thudded his fist against the table.
"Where is your wine cellar?" Thalia stood up at practically the same time.

Percy took Annabeth's hand. Staring down Thalia in particular. "C'mon. We were doing just fine without royal help. I doubt you two need to leech off Annabeth."

With a grateful smile, Annabeth squeezed his fingers. "Actually, I was thinking. Since there are now vacant positions in the council that perhaps you eight would fill them? Guide me as I'm Queen."

A heavy silence shrouded them. Awe, disbelief, joy filled their faces. Percy's heart prickled with happiness. Not even truly a Queen yet and she was already making wise decisions.

Well, maybe not about making Thalia a member of the council. But still.

"And the first order of business for this newly formed council is to guide me in the decision of what to do with King Octavian." Annabeth brushed forward. The liquid colour light flowed over her like sheer silk. Thalia surprisingly hobbled out of the head chair and moved down the line. Percy seated himself beside Frank. A swell of joy so deep in his chest that he felt like sighing every two seconds. She was owning it.

"Put him on a ship and send him to the end of the world," Calypso said. "Problem solved."

"Until he finds his way back to his kingdom and starts a war with Genousa," Piper said.

"But if we don't send him back, the officials of Gower will start a war simply to retrieve him." Jason pointed out.

Frank tapped his fingers against the polished wood of the table. "How about a deal then? King Octavian can only return home when he signs a treaty proclaiming that he won't attack?"

"He would never honour that." Percy shook his head.

"I have a mix of chemicals that if I expose it to him, he'll become insane. That way if we send him back he won't have the faculties to start a war." Hazel offered.

"Too risky. He may return home and start a war simply out of insanity," Thalia said.

"I liked the end of the world idea," Nico added.

Leo looked perturbed. "Why don't we just execute him? Since King Octavian has no heir, and no relatives, it will cause a power vacuum. The Kingdom of Gower will go into civil war and deplete its natural resources on its own. Plus the horribly treated citizens of Gower will have an opportunity to throw their own revolt in the chaos."

Everyone paused. Looking to each other as the idea settled.

"That's… actually a brilliant idea," Hazel said.

"Yeah, it solves everything."

"Why wasn't it the first thing we thought of?"

Annabeth reached forward and reclaimed her crown from the tabletop. Gently, she lay it on her head again. "So it's decided. You eight make a marvelous council, and King Octavian will die."

"Wait a minute, eight?" Calypso counted around the table with a finger. "One of us won't be a member of the council?"

"Well Percy…" Annabeth paused, glancing at him. A blush blossomed against her cheeks. Percy felt like kissing them brighter. "I hope he'll one day stand next to me as King of Genousa."

"You're engaged!" Piper yelped, smacking the table with her palms.

Nervously, Percy rubbed the back of his neck. It was an exciting word, a new label, a promise. But technically speaking he'd put down Annabeth's proposal. So really, he didn't know what to say. Swallowing his heartbeat, he prodded Annabeth gently with his eyes.

Are we?

Annabeth's cheeks pinched up when she smiled. "Yes. We are." She said without a shred of doubt.

Butterflies. His entire insides were made of butterflies. From around him his friends cheered and offered their congratulations but Percy didn't hear it. He only had eyes for Annabeth. His Queen. Her steady gaze came right back at him, ready to never part again.

"Break out the wine!" Thalia bellowed.

And they did. And they feasted.

.oOo.

Four years later Percy woke up next to Annabeth. He always rose before her, just as the dawn was seeping light between their thick velvet curtains.

He loved to lie next to her and watch her chest rise and fall. Watch her shift slowly to try and find his warmth. So cute, so beautiful, and frankly so perfect. Perfect to him.

She was the greatest Queen Genousa had ever had, he was sure of it. Foreign alliances were strong, the people were happy and well fed, and even the docks brought back riches from the seas again.

He loved kissing her awake. Seeing her thunderstorm grey eyes flutter open, the fresh glow that radiated from her when her gaze locked on him.

"Good morning to the fairest Queen of Genousa," he hummed.

"Good morning to the kindest King of Genousa," she smiled.

Yes. They lived happily ever after.

---

The end!

I was told by a beta that the twist was obvious. Rip to that, but I think it is still a pretty enjoyable oneshot, eh? Remember to leave a comment if you're so inclined and if you have any questions you can DM me on insta averagecanadian3 (Where I'm more likely to reply).