a/n: my hand slipped and i wrote a percabeth au. oops. i'm sorry but i'm not actually sorry. this one is going to be a reincarnation au, partially inspired by herecomesthepun's "two strangers learn to fall in love again" and partially inspired by the eternal bop "Time After Time" (from which i took the title, obviously) by Cyndi Lauper. i had to do a lot of research for this chapter (read: had to do a lot of google searches for this) and as nerdy as it sounds it was actually really fascinating to learn about ancient roman times. if you happen to be an expert and want to school me on what i inevitably effed up, knock yourself out. with that being said, enjoy!
i.
ancient rome, 79 AD
Percy has a splitting headache when he awakens.
The cause for his headache is alcohol, for yesterday was Vulcanalia. The festival honoring the fire god was lively as always, wine flowing freely, laughter uproarious while bonfire flames leapt towards the star-speckled sky. Percy drank heavily and is now facing the consequences.
He moves about his insula sluggishly, changing into a clean tunic and strapping on his sandals. He fixes himself a breakfast of bread and porridge, then leaves his humble abode for work.
The market is full of life. Voices ring out from street corners, horses whinny, and fountains splash. Percy weaves through the bustling town towards the fruit and vegetables stall where he is employed. His employer is a temperamental man and will surely not be pleased if he arrives late.
Percy pauses in his progress when the ground begins to quiver, knocking over barrels and clanking carts. The commotion around him halts momentarily as everyone stares up at Vesuvius, the great mountain looming high above the Pompeii streets.
According to legend, a fierce monster, the belua, lives underneath the mountain. On occasion, the monster awakens, filled with rage, and shakes the city. It's a compelling explanation for the tremors, which have been increasing in frequency as of late.
After another few moments, everyone resumes going about their day, and Percy hurries the rest of the way to work.
The fruits and vegetables stall is small and rickety, tucked at the far end of a plaza. Bunches of grapes and dried rhubarb hang from the ceiling, while barrels and baskets filled with lentils, figs, apples, and artichokes line nearly every inch of floor and shelf.
As Percy approaches the stand, the harried vendor is haggling the price of a basket of onions with a customer. The vendor waves his fist at Percy when he sees him arrive.
"Perseus! You're late."
Percy wants to make light of the situation, but senses it won't go over well, so he murmurs an apology and ducks behind the stand.
"Pardon me for one moment." The vendor says, turning his back on the customer to speak to Percy in a low voice. "Make yourself useful and deal with this maiden, boy. We're about to receive a large quantity of lentils from Farmer Georgiou and I must oversee the delivery."
The vendor rushes off, muttering under his breath about "incompetent street riffraff" and leaving Percy to handle the patron.
"I apologize for that." He says, looking up from the ledger book at the young woman. Her beauty is disarming. She has hair like spun gold and eyes gray as the goddess Minerva's. Percy blinks at her, slightly beside himself.
The young woman frowns, evidently frustrated. "I told your employer, and I'll tell you now; I refuse to pay any more than 20 denarii for these onions."
Percy rests an elbow on the stand. "You'll find they're worth every last denarii. Finest onions west of the Mediterranean." The words fall from his lips easily, having recited them countless times. He doesn't even know if this is true, but the vendor says it's what he should tell buyers if they doubt the quality of their produce.
A smirk appears on the woman's face. She is amused.
"'Finest onions west of the Mediterranean'? Not a chance. This one is bruised." She points to one of the onions in the basket.
Indeed, there is a large brown spot on the vegetable. Percy plucks it from the basket and replaces it with a non-bruised onion. Problem resolved. "There. Are you satisfied?"
She wrinkles her nose. "No. All of these onions are mere hours from rotting. They smell foul and are far too soft. I'll pay eighteen denarii and not an ass more."
"They do not smell foul."
She grabs one of the onions and places it beneath his nose rather forcefully. "It reeks."
Admittedly, it does. Onions never smell very pleasant, but this one's odor is especially displeasing.
Percy sighs. "My boss will slaughter me if I don't sell these to you, and I can't die right now because I work at the amphitheater tonight. I'll…get you good seats to watch the gladiators fight if you buy the onions for thirty denarii."
The young woman's frown deepens. "You support gladiator fighting? You condone it?"
"I don't like it, but I need the money and working at the amphitheater pays well." Percy says, crossing his arms.
"It's inhumane! Animal cruelty, human cruelty, the sickest form of entertainment."
"It's unfortunate, yes, but–"
The ground trembles beneath his feet again, rattling the whole stand. The woman stumbles forwards with a cry, but Percy grabs her arm to keep her from crashing into a barrel. Her skin is soft under his fingertips.
"Deus meus!" she curses, righting herself.
Percy looks up at Mount Vesuvius, using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. The monster beneath the mountain is restless today.
"Vae!" he remarks. "The belua is quite angry. Perhaps he did not sleep well last night either."
The woman looks concerned. "Very angry." she agrees.
"You know, I haven't seen you around this part of town before." Percy says as he flips through the ledger pages idly.
"I hail from Herculaneum. My father has a villa there. I'm traveling through Pompeii to see my brother."
"Intriguing. You must be a Patrician, then."
"I might be."
Her cryptic answer heightens his curiosity. "How long do you stay here?"
"You're terribly interested in a complete stranger you've only just met." she says instead of making an answer.
Percy's face warms. "Perhaps you're just an interesting stranger."
"Perhaps."
Percy wipes his hands on the back of his tunic and picks up the basket. "I concede. I'll sell these to you for your price. But…I'd like it if you went to the amphitheater tonight. If not to see the gladiators, to see me."
Her lips quirk ever so slightly. "Never for the gladiators. But for you…perhaps I will."
She pays, and he hands her the basket. Their fingers brush and eyes lock. Gods, her eyes really are incredible. Dark gray like the sky just before it rains.
"I'm Perseus." he says as she turns to leave.
She pauses. A smile slowly spreads across her face. "Annabeth."
He watches her go. There's something about the young woman, Annabeth, that makes him a bit short for breath. He's never considered marriage before, but he can picture himself marrying Annabeth. What a lovely spouse she would make.
"Stop smiling like an asinus and get to working."
The vendor has returned. At the sound of his voice, Percy swivels around. "I apologize."
Percy works diligently for the next two hours, so exceedingly diligently that his employer agrees to let him take his midday break early. Percy pilfers an apple from the stand and sinks his teeth into it, wandering off.
He strolls around the town square, taking in the sights of his city. A group of children chasing each other run past, giggling and squealing. Two women make conversation as they wash their laundry in the waters of the fountain. Shopkeepers sweep the debris left behind from Vulcanalia last night.
Percy's eyes find Annabeth, the beautiful blonde, among the crowd, as if on their own accord. She's talking with another young woman, but notices him looking, meets his gaze, and waves.
An invisible force seems to pull Percy towards her. It doesn't even occur to him that she might view him as overeager. He wants to talk to her, walk arm-in-arm with her, see that smile transform her face again.
Before Percy can reach Annabeth, there's a deafening boom.
The ground shakes so forcefully Percy is knocked off his feet. He crashes into the edge of the fountain, his cry of pain lost in the raucous. The fall steals the air from his lungs and he lays gasping in the dirt.
A cloud of rubble and ash shoots into the sky from the mountaintop. Heat like nothing Percy's ever experienced before sinks into his bones. Agony claws at his chest. He feels the belua's fury and its wrath makes him welcome death with open arms.
Then everything is dark.