complete summary:
(percabeth, royal soulmate au)
she was born of winter, of fire, of stone. she merely wished to reclaim her throne. surrounded by rivals, hidden amongst enemies, annabeth must travel this path alone.
he was born of iron, of ice, of the sea. a feared prince, misunderstood, was he. haunted by shadows, kissed by war, perseus suffers, with more in store.
their souls are entwined, yet their kingdoms estranged. will love do them justice, or shall duty be their banes?
'tis a tale of the ages, that much is true. but as for who reads it, is up to you.
OR,
in a last ditch attempt at survival, annabeth, an escaped princess posing as a common prisoner of war, seeks refuge within the borders of her enemy country.
percy, the maligned prince, turns out to be her soulmate. he has no other goal than to serve both the allies and enemies that hate and fear him, but by tellings of the palace rumors, his discovering annabeth's heritage would cost her her life.
in a foreign nation known for its ability to find soulmates, she discovers the beauty of the unforeseen, and in a nest of leviathans vying for his spilled blood, he finally finds the soul that's tied to his own.
this fic was adopted/adapted from everyshadedsilver's Argentate! the first 4 chapters are mostly her work, with minor changes made to fit my own story and the world that i'm building off the framework of hers. i do not claim credit for or ownership of those chapters :)
thank you for reading!
NOTE: the olympians are not related in this fic, and as such, neither are their children.
I
"i spent my days"
ANNABETH
CONTRARY to the reigning belief, being a prisoner of war certainly had its perks. But being pressed among a dozen bruised and sweat-tainted bodies, packed into the fetid confines of a prison cart like a satchel of soiled bread was not one of them.
A rough jostle from the cart running over a rock jolted Annabeth awake. Her eyes snapped open as she muttered a curse under her breath, her neck aching from the sudden jerk in movement. The stench of the other girls stung her nostrils before her sight could focus. So she bit her tongue to keep from spewing a few choice words as she blinked again and again, attempting to stop her vision from vibrating.
The inside of the cart was humid and dim, but between the slats of rotted wood that stood as their prison, she was able to make out filmy rays of sunlight. A low hum filled the space around her as the other prisoners talked quietly to each other.
How long had she been asleep?
Annabeth pushed herself up slowly, wincing as her neck flared with soreness from her sleeping position. Her wrists and ankles throbbed with the dull ache of the bruises the guard from the day before had given her. She pressed her back against the walls, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Her chest stung with disdain. There she was, shackled and bruised, with more aches within her body than she did breaths. How shameful.
In her head, she went over her preferred mantra, the one that had formed during her days in the barracks of the Algreni fighting shacks. My name is Annabeth Althena Karstagne, she told herself. I'm the Crown Princess of Eplonia, the youngest child of my House. I'm eighteen years old. I have two older brothers, a father, a mother. I must take back my kingdom from the Traitor. I was born of winter, of fire, of stone. I am the rightful ruler of Eplonia. The mountains remember, the mountains-
"Good morning." A soft but excited whisper pulled her attention towards her left, forcing her to disregard the pseudo-comforting thoughts plaguing her mind.
Annabeth turned to see a familiar pair of golden eyes. Hazel was her name, as she recalled. She nodded politely. "Good morning."
The younger girl fidgeted with the hem of her dress as she sat cross-legged. She seemed to be contemplating whether or not to continue the conversation. Annabeth waited patiently, fixating her gaze elsewhere. The shame returned now that she wasn't as distracted as before.
Soon enough, Hazel muttered out, "How... was your night?"
Annabeth turned her head towards her again before shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "It wasn't… horrible. You?" She disliked talking, but the manners that had been instilled in her since childhood refused her inner want to keep to herself. Conversation, even when light and without meaning, was one's first indication of respect towards another.
And Hazel, she decided, was worthy of respect.
She shrugged, but before she could respond, another prisoner joined the conversation. Annabeth easily recognized her choppy brown hair and strangely colored eyes.
"Oh, so she finally lives." Piper's lips pulled into a sarcastic smile as she sank into position beside Hazel. "I will be honest, Asteria. I thought you died."
The dark skinned girl between them made a strange noise at the back of her throat before she pinched Piper's side without a morsel of subtlety. Piper hissed as she swatted Hazel's fingers away. "It's the truth," she urged. Her gaze slid over to Annabeth at the same moment that her fingers gestured towards her. "Asteria was just sitting there. Her chest wasn't even moving-"
Annabeth felt a bit of heat rise in her face. Not enough to appear embarrassed, but certainly enough to give hint to her evident discomfort. "Was I sleeping for long?" Let it never be said that she was a slacker.
Hazel shook her head politely with an accompanied "No," the same moment Piper nodded with non-manufactured animation.
That didn't help at all.
Annabeth twisted her dark hair in her grasp, flickering her gaze from the two younger girls in front of her to the spaces between the wooden boards that comprised her temporary cage. She took note of the fact that the scenery had changed from the dusty red and orange sand of Algren to a blur of greenery mixed with tainted blues.
They were nearing Triesso, she realized. A pit in her stomach grew to the size of a small mountain-berry. But it was there all the same.
Hazel must have read the expression on her face because she assured her unprompted. Her understanding, however well-intended, was not on target. "Don't worry, Asteria. You didn't miss much, anyways."
Annabeth dragged her attention away from the slivers of what she could pick of the outside world and turned towards the golden-eyed girl. "That's not what I was worried about…" She trailed off, dropping her hand to her lap and ignoring the questioning looks that they both were sending her. Why was she speaking anyways?
"Well, aren't you going to explain?" Piper moved to sit on her haunches while bundling her choppy shoulder-length hair between her fists. Her versicolored irises transcended to an amber-rose shade through the dim light.
Annabeth mulled over the notion of saying how badly she wanted to be awake when they reached Triesso, and how badly she wanted to sink into the Estrian Sea and never be seen again at the thought of it. But seeing as she was now a common girl named Asteria born of Algren, she couldn't come up with a viable excuse as to how she recognized the leviathan sigil for the House of Neptune engraved into the wood of the cart along the outside walls.
After all, she wasn't supposed to know they were going to Triesso in the first place.
So instead, Annabeth sat and stared at the wall just past Piper's head. No response was a response in itself. She congratulated herself on her resolve. The pit in her stomach grew to the size of a small tree nut.
Hazel shifted uncomfortably as Piper grunted, both girls receiving the message well enough. They began to speak in lowered breaths and whispered to each other, murmuring about where they were going and who had conquered them.
Annabeth bit the inside of her lip at the sound of their ignorance. One would suppose that after literal years spent among the strangely-colored-eyed Algrenis, she would understand their shameless refusal to partake in world politics (for the most part). But she was also well aware of the darkness that their leader insisted on drowning them in, as well as the influence that the Nature Nomads had upon the small country. So she continued to bite the inside of her lip and fume in silence, tugging on the ends of her soil toned hair.
How shameful this was.
But this was a requirement, she reminded herself. No one would think to look for her in Triesso, let alone- if she had estimated correctly- Triton's Hold. Being confined here, within the rotting wood of the prison cage and moving across borders of entire countries, was her sole hope.
She had wanted to rebuild her strength before reclaiming what was rightfully hers. And this voluntary entrapment was the gateway to just that. It was her catalyst. Her hope.
The pit in her stomach shrank back to the size of a mountain-berry, which was the size that she preferred.
Ω
Who could have known that the stench of the cart had killed her appetite?
Annabeth wasn't sure how much time had passed between her waking up late and the soldiers allowing the prisoners a brief respite for a meal, but when she clambered out of the cart with shaking knees and an empty stomach, the waft of untainted air- although dry- was enough to tell her that she was no longer hungry. In fact, the refreshing breath of oxygen felt as if it were enough to sustain her for days.
Her relief was cut short when the sound of the soldier's voice sliced through the air with the manner of lightning's whip. "Ten minutes to eat and relieve yourselves. No one is to be more than 15 feet from the cart." Malice entered his next words. "Unless you enjoy the feel of twenty lashes. Barbed and braided."
She bit her tongue and pulled on the ends of her brown hair as she scanned the miles of dead pasture surrounding them. Between their shackles and the fact that they were mid-border... where could any of the prisoners even run?
But she made sure not to point that out and instead turned her attention to the bleeding colors of the sky as the sun began its crawl under the horizon. The prisoners surrounding her sank to their knees as one of the younger soldiers began passing out bread and water. The women kept to themselves, nibbling on their sparse meals and continuing their whispers under the pain of the soldier's threatening whip.
Annabeth seated herself a little ways away from the rest of them, scowling as she inspected the bruise on her ankle. Now that she had decent light to guide her vision, she could see the grotesque blemishes that discolored the surface of her now-tender skin. The wounds resembled spoiled plums imported from the Storm Lands—a brutish, warmongering place bordering the Sea of the Gaelish Trench. She winced as she carefully placed the cast-iron shackles against her ankle.
The air behind her snapped, causing her to jump and subsequently flinch when the heavy metal circlets pressed against the bruises. Annabeth forced all emotion to leave her face as she turned around, already knowing who had caused it.
The soldier with the whip half-grinned down at her with a perilous glint in his dark eyes. "If you're not eating, I'd advise getting back in the cart." His knuckles then tightened around the leather strap of the torture device, turning white with force, before he ambled off. His lowered voice gave truth to his racially-charged whispers of "dirty Algrenis."
Annabeth forced the thought from her mind, the reason for his cruelty growing more and more apparent. She glanced at the cart and her stomach turned over at the thought of having to crawl back into its putrid darkness and huddle in one of the farther corners- the worst corners.
How shameful that would be. She could practically see the disdain on her mother's face at the thought of it.
Then, a shadow passed over her leg and she glanced up. Silver eyes met gold ones as Hazel grinned down at her, very much unlike the soldier who had just left her presence. The younger girl sank into a cross-legged position without invitation and handed a piece of her bread to Annabeth.
The faux brunette glanced down at her outstretched hand before meeting Hazel's gaze again. "What's this?"
She shrugged in response, her frizzy curls ghosting over a thin shoulder. "I overheard the solider and well..." She paused, chewing on her lip as apprehension grew over her facial features. Then, after a few moments of what seemed to be spent building up courage, Hazel continued. "Well, I know that no one would rather get back in the cart first." She wrinkled her nose at the thought of the lack of rest stops the soldiers had given them and how the prisoners had had to deal with their urges.
Annabeth nodded in gratitude and plucked the small bit of bread from her fingers. Yes, Hazel was definitely worthy of her respect. "Thank you, Hazel." Her thanks was sincere.
The girl in question bit back a shy smile, her irises glowing in the sinking and darkening light of the sun's rays. "No need to thank me, Asteria. That's what friends are for, after all."
Annabeth wasn't sure if it was guilt or shame that swelled the pit in her stomach to the size of a small apple. She didn't respond to Hazel. Lying about her identity was bad enough- even though necessary. Lying about friendship was pointless... and dishonoring.
So she nibbled the bread in silence, staring at the thin clouds that streaked the sky.
The soldier stayed true to his word. Only a few short minutes later were the prisoners herded back into the cart like criminalized cattle. The sound of the whip cracking the air in two taunted them all, needlessly reminding them who was in power and who was not. But Annabeth only expected so much from Triesstine guards. As her mother had always said, they were barbaric. Shame incarnate.
And with the irony that pervaded all things, she was heading straight into the center of the leviathan's pit.
Ω
Day melted into dusk which in turn shifted into night. Annabeth kept to herself, her nostrils still stinging from the smell. She doubted she'd ever get used to it. But if her estimations were correct, they'd hopefully reach Eplantis—Triesso's capital city and home of the royal family—by noon the next day.
And that was the only thought that forced the churning bile within the depths of her gut from rising.
Hours passed, and soon enough, the low hum that gave truth to the whispered conversations of the young women surrounding her faded into quiet snores and thoughtful reflections. The sparse light that had previously slipped through the slats of wood did the same... in the sense that it was no longer apparent.
It was the silence of the cart that gave Annabeth the perfect opportunity to hear her stomach gurgle, her body complaining in protest to the lack of food. Immediately, red heat burned into her cheeks as she pretended not to hear it, staring straight at the wooden walls before her. Her stomach continued groaning for several more minutes, much to her agonizing humiliation.
A gentle hand pressed to her kneecap.
Annabeth jumped and winced as her neck throbbed once more with soreness's flare. She glanced down to see Hazel, wide awake, with a bit more food in her hands. Immediately, the faux brunette scanned their neighboring prisoners, certifying that they were asleep, before hissing in the younger girl's direction. "Where did you get that?"
She couldn't see through the darkness of night, but Annabeth could've guessed that Hazel blushed. "I...," she trailed off before sinking her teeth into her bottom lip in obvious nervousness. "I saw that you weren't eating earlier, and Piper seems like the type to have a big appetite, and I knew that I was probably going to get hungry again- so I swiped some more bread while the soldiers weren't looking."
The older one of the pair couldn't keep the shock from flooding her system. Who could have guessed that Hazel embodied so much gumption? But with the same swiftness that her surprise had come, it was soon overridden with concern. She didn't frown, nor did she allow much emotion to pass over her expression (or lack thereof), but even she could hear the evident disapproval in her words. "You could've gotten caught. And beaten."
The already unstable surety in Hazel's offering hand faltered as she drew back, her eyebrows pinching together. "I know."
"So why did you do it?"
Silence.
Then, after what seemed to be several minutes spent mulling the question over, she answered. And in her eyes, Annabeth saw nothing but the generosity and goodhearted nature that very few possessed. "I figured it was worth it." Hazel then presented the food once more, her motions this time a lot more certain. "Now eat."
Annabeth shook her head, biting down on the inside of her lip as she politely declined. "I couldn't." As if on cue, her stomach rumbled again in a flair of controversy- louder than ever before- as if to curse her for denying it sustenance.
Both of Hazel's eyebrows raised. "But Asteria-"
She repeated herself, cheeks warm. "-I really couldn't."
The younger girl sighed in slight resignation, but withdrew her offer nonetheless. The food disappeared somewhere into the inner folds of her clothing. Annabeth forced herself not to think about how unsanitary that was. She did not wish for her nausea to return.
They resumed reticence afterwards. Hazel drifted off to sleep, curling into Piper's side. Annabeth returned to her thoughts. But it wasn't long before her consciousness faded away as well. And as usual, her dreams were littered with past memories.
Ω
The air was stagnant. And cold. Annabeth had never known it to be like that in all her fifteen years living in the Eplave Mountains. But maybe that was simply due to the context of her circumstances. After all, she had doubted there could ever be a day when she despised the silver snow and smooth fog that clung to her country's climate without mercy.
But today drew her very close.
She remained hidden in the shadows of the city's alleys, just as her mother had told her to. She gripped her older brother's hand, fear piercing her chest like the arrows that had rained down on the throne room mere hours before. "How long are we going to stay here?"
He didn't turn around, but his grip tightened around her fingers. "Not long, little Silver. It isn't safe for us."
She bit the inside of her lip. It was more dangerous for him to be out and about than it was for her. He was the Crown Prince of Eplonia. The firstborn. And now... she swallowed thickly at the thought of her father clutching his bloodied chest as arrows sank into his sternum. At the sound of her mother's screams as she was dragged away by hooded traitors.
And now... he was King. No longer the Crown Prince.
But she knew if she mentioned any of that, she'd get lectured. Her brother was a kind man in that sense- always ready to inflate the value of others. He was gracious by nature like that. He deserved kingship. But now it would be safe to say that they'd be blessed to make it out of the capital alive.
The throne belonged to someone else now.
She couldn't help herself. "It isn't safe for you, you mean. They won't care about me." She loosened her grasp on his hand, already pulling away as she was aware of what would come next.
He spun on her. His renowned blue eyes- the ones that he had inherited from their grandfather of Castradian blood, the ones that set him apart from nearly every Eplonian citizen in existence- glistened in the thick light. "Don't say that, Annabeth." He scowled.
She returned the twisted expression, dropping her hand to her side. "We both know it's true, Luke. I don't know why you bother to deny it." She sniffed, wiping away the lone tear that had begun to slide down her cheek with the back of her hand. "With the right clothes, I could pass off as any regular commoner. But you...," she swallowed again before pushing on, ignoring the hurt look in his eyes. "You're the heir. Everyone knows what you look like."
The wounded glint in his gaze vanished as he gestured to her silver-blonde hair. "No commoner in this world has hair like that, Annabeth. You'd be recognized too."
She remained silent. Silver met blue. They stared at each other, facing off, challenging the other to back down.
It was days like these, when the politically-charged aspects of their personalities took over, that the dull ache in her heart throbbed all the harder- reminding her just how much she missed their brother Malcolm.
Luke stared at her for a few more minutes before taking her hand again and turning back towards the busy street. There was a strain in his voice that hadn't been there prior. "Listen, as soon as the street clears out, we move. Okay? To the next alley. Alley to alley until we reach the city walls."
She felt herself nod, her stomach twisting at the thought of the soldiers patrolling the streets. They couldn't trust them anymore. They didn't know which soldiers remained loyal to House Karstagne or which ones allied themselves with the Traitor. It was too risky.
But it was necessary.
She gripped his fingers again. There was no need to voice the question pressing on both of their minds.
"And if we-," He swallowed, mending the intent behind his words. His voice shook as he continued speaking. "We won't get caught. I'll make sure of it."
The air was stagnant and cold with the weight of betrayal. Eplonia was no longer her own. Her beautiful country was no longer hers. The Eplave Mountains were now her prison, and escaping them would be near impossible.
So all she could do was nod. Nod and attempt to keep the shakiness from her voice as she echoed her brother's words under her breath, peering into the street. "Alley to alley until we reach the city walls."
Ω
Annabeth's emergence from slumber was a lot smoother than she had expected it to be. But maybe the reason behind that was simply due to the gentle shaking of her shoulders. She opened her eyes to find a grinning Piper staring back at her, only a few inches from her face.
Her heart lept through the bones of her rib cage. The faux brunette sank her teeth into her tongue to keep from crying out in surprise. It took several moments, most of which was spent breathing in stabilizing inhales with the sound of Piper's maniacal chuckles to back them, but eventually, Annabeth cooled the burning redness in her face.
"Good morning to you too." She grumbled mostly to herself as she fidgeted with the shackles on her wrists.
Piper snickered before taking a seat next to her. "Good morning, Asteria. Did you sleep well?"
Annabeth glanced at her through the corners of her eyes. The Algreni girl seemed to be a bit more joyous than usual. She wondered why. But nevertheless, she responded to the question in the same manner of politeness that she had been raised with. "Yes. My night wasn't horrible. You?"
She grunted, twisting her fingers along her short locks. "It could've been better." A pause. "Well, everything could be better. But I guess everything could just as well as be worse, right?"
The faux brunette nodded, appreciating the wisdom behind her words. The pair fell into silence. When Piper realized that Annabeth wasn't going to be initiating any meaningless conversation anytime soon, she turned to the girl on her left and began whispering.
But it wasn't for a few more minutes that Annabeth realized the cart had stopped moving.
Hope began to fizz in her blood as she glanced at the outside world through the thin slats of moldered wood. A crisp blue stripe that resembled the sky blended with the iron-grey streak that she recognized as the many cliffs that littered the Western border of the continent.
Specifically, Triesso.
But before she could react in excitement (and, more realistically, fear), the doors of the prison cart were unchained and ripped open. Harsh sunlight flooded the murky confines as the sadistic soldier from the days prior leaned in. His whip was tucked into his belt, its presence menacing even when unused. "Get out and line up shoulder to shoulder." When none of the prisoners moved a muscle in response, he scowled, his hand falling to his favorite weapon. "Now."
They all hurried after that.
The prisoners shook awake any girls that were still sleeping. A low hum filled the space as they began emptying out of the cart one by one. It didn't take much for Annabeth to recognize it as apprehension. After all, they had reached Triesso much sooner than she had anticipated. A lot sooner than any of them had anticipated.
She pressed her feet into the dust as she exited the cart, her body aching in places that she hadn't felt in years. After nearly two days spent sitting cross-legged in the dark, the bright sunlight of this foreign country was almost an assault on her eyes. She shuffled to her place beside Piper, their shoulders brushing together.
When her eyesight adjusted, she took note of the warm breeze that fluttered through her hair. Of the large waves that slammed against the slate-tainted rocks of the cliffs that they stood upon. Of the soaring blue sky overhead and the flitting sunlight that fell to the ground in wisps.
I am a Karstagne, her mind chanted. I am the Crown Princess. I was born of winter, of fire, of stone. Never had she yearned for her home in the mountains so much as she did now. Never had she ached so much for her chambers in the Torch, for the marble carvings of the Nine Mothers in the Blest Mount of Kryfort, for the gentle crunch of ice and snow underfoot.
But this was necessary.
This was her hope.
And it was that thought alone that kept her from breaking down in tears as she and the rest of the other prisoners were forced forward, walking towards Triton's Hold that stood off in a distance.
Marching straight into the sea snake's pit.