Disclaimer: All rights belong to Rick Riordan. I take no credit, and I do not mean to break any copyright rules. This is simply a work of fiction made for enjoyment. No money is being made.

Rating: T for dark themes and violence

Author's Note: I switched Annabeth and Percy's roles in this fic in comparison with the books (where Percy is the new kid and Annabeth is the one with all the experience) so Annabeth in this fic (at least in the beginning) is the one with the questions and not the answers. I also made Percy a little darker, since I'm obsessed with dark Percy and also because he's older and more mature in this than the books. Still, I hope I kept true enough to their characters!

Chapter 3

The Pax has a small crew - even smaller than what Annabeth would expect for a ship of its size. She isn't a sailing expert by any means, but she can't imagine the tiny crew being big enough to keep the ship going. The one advantage of having such a small crew means that there's a lot more space. Percy's captain quarters are twice the size of the cabin on the Bloody Boar, and the belowdecks has a decent amount of space between the hammocks.

In the hollow space of the hull, where the cargo would typically be held, is a space that looks like a workshop. A few benches and tables are covered in metal parts and tools. A lantern hanging from a hook in the ceiling illuminates the figure of a large guy hunched over one of the benches. At the sound of footsteps, he turns around. Annabeth's jaw drops in surprise.

"This is Beckendorf. He keeps this piece of schist running." Percy's eyes gleam, as though he slipped in an inside joke.

Annabeth swallows back her surprise. "Nice to meet you, Beckendorf."

She's never seen a man with such dark skin except in the slave markets - which she does her best to avoid. He's also one of the biggest men she's ever met - his sleeveless top reveals thick, muscular biceps the size of her head. He's tall, towering over both her and Percy, and his face is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and grime.

Beckendorf smiles. Despite his hulking size, his eyes are warm and friendly.

"This is Annabeth," Percy says. "She's from Chester. She'll be a guest on board until she can find a ship back home."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Annabeth." His voice rumbles, deeper than any voice she's heard, even Ares. "Hopefully I can keep this ship afloat while you're on board."

She hopes he's joking, but from the sorry state of the outside, she isn't sure.

The next person Percy introduces her to is his first mate. He's in the navigation room, pouring over a mess of maps, trying to measure out a path.

"This is Frank." Percy leans in the doorway.

Frank is nearly as big as Beckendorf, with the same broad shoulders and muscles. When he raises his head, Annabeth can't keep her mouth shut.

"A Chinaman?" she gasps.

Frank scowls. Percy winces.

"That's kinda an offensive term. But yeah, Frank here is from China. He has ancestors from Rome and Greece, though. A well traveled guy."

Annabeht covers her mouth. "I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean - I just haven't met anyone from China before."

Frank's face relaxes. "It's fine," he says. "No one has."

He pouts a little, which, with his bulky frame and severe haircut, actually makes him look kind of cute, like a puppy. Although Annabeth is sure he could hold his own in a fight, she gets the feeling that he's actually quite peaceful.

"I'm Annabeth," she says. "It's an honor to meet you."

Instead of taking her hand, he bows slightly. "It's nice to meet you, too."

Percy leads her out back onto the deck. Annabeth's face is bright red and burning.

"I feel so bad," she says. "I was just so surprised."

Percy shrugs. "It happens a lot. Don't worry about it. Frank's a great guy. He doesn't hold grudges."

A few other crew members linger around on board, some playing cards in the corner or a game with dice. Annabeth stands by the wheel, looking over the lower deck.

"Your crew is so…." She struggles for the word. "I've never seen such a mixture of foreigners together."

"I've traveled around the world. I take the best sailors, regardless of where they come from or what they look like. Sailors in general aren't too hung up about a person's outward appearance - we're too busy trying to stay alive."

"Is that why you can afford to have such a small crew?"

Percy frowns. "No. Though it certainly helps." He taps his hands against the wheel. Annabeth realizes that since she's met him, he hasn't stopped moving, whether it's tapping his fingers or swinging his sword or bouncing his leg. He has a kind of nervous energy around him, as though he's always waiting for an attack. "Listen, Annabeth, I have to warn you."

"Warn me about what?"

"My ship...my crew….we're not normal pirates."

"Yeah, I noticed the empty cargo hold."

"That's not it." He tilts his head. "Well, yeah, but that's not just it. We don't raid cities or rob people - unless they're bad people. We're more specialized."

Annabeth raises an eyebrow. "You're a privateer?"

He shakes his head. "No, we're pirates. But…" He frowns. "It's hard to explain. You'll see."

She remembers the instinct she got earlier that told her he was hiding something. At least he's being honest about it - even if he can't seem to just straight up tell her what it is.

"Am I in danger?" she asks, half-teasing.

His eyes are anything but joking when they meet hers. "Yes."

"Oh."

"You should learn to use a sword. Where we're going, they won't distinguish between us and you. And even if you find a ship to take you back home, it would be a good idea for you to learn how to fight. This world isn't friendly for anyone, especially women."

Annabeth would agree with that statement. She may have escaped Ares by herself, but she wouldn't have made it out of Tortuga without being kidnapped by someone else. She remembers all those eyes peering out of the shadows. The sight of Percy's sword had kept them in the shadows.

"I have a knife," she offers. She reaches down and under her tattered skirt, where the five-inch blade is strapped to her leg.

"I wouldn't recommend using a knife. It doesn't have a lot of reach and it can be tricky to wield well. I'm sure we can find you a sword - "

Annabeth has the edge of the knife at his throat, only about an inch from his skin. She twirls it between her fingers and steps back. "You were saying?"

Something that looks like admiration crosses his face. "Where'd you learn to use that?"

"My fiancé, Luke." A twinge of sadness runs through her as she remembers the afternoons spent running around his manor. That was back when he had thought of her as a little sister. He knew the horrors of war firsthand and wanted her to be able to protect herself. He'd given her the knife with a promise.

"I'm surprised you didn't cut up Ares yourself."

"His men got the jump on me and kept me tied up. It's a lot easier to fight if you know the enemy is coming." Annabeth runs her fingertips along the flat of the blade. "I still have some room to learn."

She notices Percy staring at her arms, and she subconsciously lowers them to her sides. "What?"

He nods at her forearms. "We have one more crewmember to meet before I show you to your cabin."

Annabeth slips her knife back in it's hidden sheath and tries to look at her arms in the dim light of the lanterns. She vaguely remembers being dragged along shards of glass in the tavern, but the adrenaline and excitement of the evening had numbed the pain. As soon as she notices it, the pain flares up.

He takes her down to the middle deck, to a brightly lit room. He knocks on the door. It opens a moment later, a tan guy with bright blond hair opening the door. Like all the crewmembers she's met, he's young. If Annabeth had to guess, she's put him at nineteen or twenty.

"Hey, Will. Sorry to bother you so late. This is Annabeth. She had a run in with Ares' crew on shore and needs some patching up."

Will smiles at her with perfect teeth. Almost too perfect - the whiteness of them is blinding. She blinks and forces a smile back.

"Good to meet you, Annabeth. I'm Will Solace, the ship doctor. Come in."

She thinks he's pretty young to be a doctor, but Percy nods at her to follow. She enters a decent-sized room with a couple of cots, a bench with a water basin and some medical supplies, and a bucket - probably for other waste.

She takes a seat on a cot while Will gathers up a washcloth, the water basin, and some bandages. He works quickly, humming under his breath. He has to dig out a few shards of glass, but it doesn't hurt very much.

"No stitches necessary, so you're in luck. I don't think it's infected, but if you were in any building on Tortuga or around any of Ares' crew, then you probably got in contact with some nasty stuff. Make sure to check on it every day."

"She'll be a guest aboard the ship for a while," Percy says. "She's from Chester."

Will glances with surprise at Percy, then smiles cheerfully at Annabeth. "In that case, I'll check up on it daily. Welcome to the crew."

They bid him goodnight and Percy shows her to a small room on the second deck. "This is…" he trails off, then clears his throat. "This room is empty. You can use it."

"Who used it before me?"

He looks uncomfortable, but he opens the door and grabs a lantern off the wall of the hallway. He sets it on a small desk pushed up against the one wall, illuminating a room with a hammock, the small desk, and a small stool. There's just enough room for her to turn around in it.

"My brother," he finally says. "Well, my half-brother."

"What happened to him?"

"He went to work for my father."

Annabeth senses there's more to the story, but she doesn't press. She remembers him telling her about the boat: "The ship was a gift from my father...though gift is a generous term. He's big on me making my own path, forging my own destiny."

"Anyway, the cabin's yours. I'll bring some blankets down for you. Sorry it's not much."

"Ares had me in the brig for three days, so this is a huge improvement." Annabeth turns around in the room that is now hers. "Thank you, Captain Jackson."

"Percy. Please." He shakes his head. "I'm not a fan of formal titles."

"Thank you, Percy."

By the time Annabeth wakes, the ship is far out to sea, the island of Tortuga long gone. She had slept well, better than she had in days, the swinging of the hammock and the sound of the crashing waves lulling her to sleep. She had fallen asleep even before Percy had returned with the blankets, but she finds a small stack of them on the desk, along with a pile of fresh clothes and a basin with water.

She struggles to take off her wedding dress and all its layers, but when she finally tears off the corset she feels as though she can breathe again for the first time. Her skin has indent and marks where the torture device had cut into her for days without relief, but she simply massages the skin and hopes that it disappears.

She uses the water to wipe the grime off her face and body before pulling on the clothes he'd left for her. They're male clothes, but she hadn't expected anything else. The white shirt with wide sleeves is about two sizes two large, but she tucks the extra bits into the black pants, which actually fit well once she cinches it tightly around her waist with the belt. The shirt has a v-cut in the collar, which ends up dipping a little deeper than she'd like, but it's not like her mother or anyone from her social circles are going to see her.

The boots are a little big, but she laces them up tightly. Her hair is the biggest challenge, but eventually she manages to undo the wedding updo entirely and comb it out through her fingers before wrapping up the unruly curls with a white ribbon wrapped off the end of her wedding dress. Percy had even included a sheath for her knife, which she straps to her belt.

She climbs up the ladder to the top deck, where the sparse crew is working. Beckendorf is repairing a rotting patch in the mast. Will is doing a check-up on a sailor with a bandage around his head. Frank is behind the wheel, steering the ship and calling out orders.

Annabeth steps around a pair of sailors scrubbing the deck. She heads towards Percy, who's standing at the bow of the ship, the sea breeze rustling through his black hair. His white shirt billows in the wind and the sun reflects off the bronze sword hanging at his side.

Annabeth hadn't gotten a good look last night, but now she sees that the hilt of his sword is an upside down T shape, with leather wrapped around the shaft. Most pirate swords have a more D shape to the hilt, made of gold and often embedded with expensive jewels. They also have much thinner blades, used as a show of wealth rather than as a functional tool.

She'd seen a few in the museum in London when her family went on a trip to visit her stepfather's relatives. Most of what she knows about sailing and pirates she learned in that museum.

"Are you sure the real reason you don't like being called Captain is because you don't actually do any work?"

Percy turns, a half smile on his face. He looks like one of those Greek gods Annabeth has seen statues of in manor gardens or as centerpieces in palaces. It's not just his appearance - although, she grudgingly admits, he is handsome - it's his confidence, his presence. He looks like he was born to rule the seas from this very perch. There's almost a glow to his skin.

"I am doing work," he says. "I'm keeping this ship together."

"Uh-huh. I thought you said that's what Beckendorf does."

He steps back, turning towards her. "You look a lot better. Sorry about the clothes - we don't usually have female guests aboard."

"They're fine. Thank you." She follows him as he makes a lap around the deck, checking up on everyone. She watches his interactions with his crew - like last night, he addresses everyone by name, asking them about their projects or how they spent the last couple days on Tortuga. He shares a smile and joke with everyone.

Annabeth met many of Luke's friends and fellow soldiers at social events. She met captains (of the army), colonels, lieutenants, you name it. Every one of those men had a superiority complex. They talked down to Luke and the other soldiers, as if they were on another level of importance or worth. Luke only got respect because of his family and his wealth. The poorer soldiers weren't even invited.

Even Ares - from her brief time aboard his ship, she saw how he lorded over his sailor, ruling with fear and brute strength.

She decides that Percy is the most un-pirate-like pirate ever.

"So what's this errand that you're running?" she asks.

"We have to collect a special item."

"That's awfully vague."

"Our first stop is to visit an old friend of mine. She'll be able to give us some more insight on what exactly we'll be facing."

Annabeth reads between the lines. "You don't know what you're after, do you?" she asks.

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles. "Not exactly. You know, you're really smart."

She shrugs, trying to act modest, though she feels as though she's been handed quite the compliment. No one has ever told her she was smart before. It's always "You're so beautiful!" or "What a lovely young lady!" Not that Annabeth doesn't appreciate those compliments, but it's nice to get one on her brains rather than her face for once.

"My mother taught me," she says. "Gave me an education. She told me that intelligence was the only power a woman has in this world."

She realizes she's said too much and presses her lips together. But Percy simply nods.

"A lot of sea lore says that women on ships is bad luck," Percy says. "Apparently it angers the sea spirits and causes storms or whatever." He rolls his eyes. "But of course naked women calm the seas, so that's why so many ships have female figureheads. That's a lot of schist, though."

"It sounds like it is," Annabeth agrees. "But how do you know for sure?"

"For one, I've never had a naked woman as a figurehead, and we've never had problems with storms," he points out. "But I also know the sea."

Annabeth remembers how she had found him standing at the bow of the ship that morning, looking as if he was born to be there. Once again she gets that feeling as though there's something he's not telling her, but she brushes it off.

"Your mother was right," Percy says. "Intelligence is the only power a woman has in this world."

"What do you mean, in this world?"

His eyes sparkle. "Stick around and you'll find out."

"Why can't you just tell me?"

"I told you last night. We're not normal pirates."

Annabeth feels frustrated by his vagueness, but she knows that he's not going to reveal anymore. She'll just have to stick around and see what happens.

"So, your friend," she says, backtracking. "You said she has more information?"

"She sees more than most people. We'll reach her place tomorrow. I'll introduce you."

Annabeth blinks. "You're...taking me with you?"

He shrugs. "Why not? My friend doesn't get many visitors."

Percy climbs up the staircase to the top deck, where Frank is behind the wheel. He nods to his first mate and heads to the very back, where water is churning in their wake. Annabeth hadn't realized how fast the ship was moving until she saw the wake.

"I can't believe this little ship can go so fast," she says, gripping the rails.

"That's why I need Beckendorf. The ship can't handle the speed. Without him, it would have fallen apart months ago." Percy runs his hand along the railing. "I can't wait until I get a proper ship."

"What are you going to name it? Something more scary than peace, I hope."

"I don't know yet." Percy turns and leans his back against the railing, gazing up at the blue flags flapping at the top of the mast. A horse jumping out of the seafoam is embroidered in the middle. "Names have power."

"Like the Jolly Roger. Doesn't sound dangerous, but it's the flag pirates fly when they're about to attack."

"Exactly." Percy glances over at her. "You seem to know a lot about pirates for a proper English lady."

"Proper English ladies have a lot of access to books and more than enough time to read them."

He raises an eyebrow. "And no one questioned you reading such books?"

"I pretended it was a history of the saints." Annabeth curls a lock of hair around her finger absently. "I also went to a museum in London."

"You wanted an adventure," Percy accuses, but his tone is light. "You've always wanted more than just marriage and being a proper lady."

"I do want to get married," Annabeth protests. "I love Luke." She remembers her hesitancy before her ceremony, the thoughts that swirled around her mind and clouded her joy. "But...I wasn't ready."

"If you stay on this ship, I promise you'll get all the adventure you need to last you a lifetime."

Annabeth catches his eye. "I'm holding you to that."