Hi! Sorry for getting you guys all excited, this story is completed and this isn't a sequel. A long, long time ago, I promised this behind the scenes oneshot (which I was going to post separately but there's too much technical issues with that). Rocketay, thank you so much for your support! You've been super encouraging and amazing. Sorry for making you wait. And honestly, I will also have to apologize that this was probably not as good as you imagined. But I had fun writing this, and I hope you will have fun reading this.
This is supposed to have happened within Ch. 15.
Also. PEOPLE! There is an amazing PJO-themed writing competition waiting to start! It's on a forum called Capture the Flag. (link: forum/CHB-Capture-the-Flag-Tournament/226550/) We get to chose cabins, and then every two weeks you'll get to work together with your cabinmates as you write a short story under your cabin's prompt. It's going to be a great place to meet cool people and test out your writing skills! If you are doubting your ability, you better join! You can only improve with practice.
Enjoy!
A grand, yellow satin-coated carriage rolled to a stop before the busy thoroughfare. Annabeth noticed people stopping in the middle of their work to crane their necks in hope of glimpsing which noble was sitting behind the lace curtains.
She pulled her rough bonnet lower over her face and readjusted her grip on the leather reins. She gently pressed her legs against Porkpie's flanks, but he was smart enough to not charge into the traffic of speeding buggies and clinking bicycles and leisurely rolling carriages. Annabeth could only hunch down slightly, fighting her automatic instinct to keep her spine straight.
Huge aristocratic blue eyes nervously peeked out, framed by mousy brown lashes. Annabeth didn't spot an Olympus family insignia on the carriage, but she wasn't taking any chances and quickly turned her head, hoping her curls weren't falling out from underneath her shapeless hat.
The whole grand procession happened at the sidewalk. A footman descending from a horse, swinging his broad thighs for all the maids passing by to ooh, and smartly snapped open the brocaded door of the carriage. The lady inside pushed out the lacey fullness of her skirt out of the doorway and delicately tiptoed out. Annabeth recognized every movement the foreign lady made, how to place one slipper on the ground, how to gently lean a bit of weight on the footman's shoulder, and how to duck beneath the doorway with perfectly straight posture. She never learned it. She just watched it happen a million times. But she was abandoning her manners today.
The servants and cooks have been aflutter the entire week discussing a travelling circus that was passing through London. It was hosted in a shiny red tent, and people would push up against the stage to see singers and dancers that the most talented. Every single night, there was standing room only.
It was a place were Annabeth's damask gown would get stained, and where she couldn't spread her lacey fan to communicate her feelings without brushing against some peasant's face. Those weren't her main concerns, just the things her servants would whisper as they got her ready for the day. She thought reading a book by the fireplace was a much more useful way to spend an evening.
But, inevitably, the next hand-delivered letter with the seal of Poseidon discussed nothing but the circus. Lord Jackson desperately wanted to attend and see the man who could sing underwater. It took a couple more letters for her to acquis, in which he attempted to wax poetry and eventually resorted to quoting from the greats, but Annabeth had already innately agreed when she decoded his handwriting in the first letter. But at least his personalized poetry would be useful for teasing and holding over him for the rest of his life.
Her servants didn't know much about where she was going. A mortal conventionally courting her would never invite her to such a rough-and-tumble place. They normally tried to wow her with caviar and some kind of imported plant over ice. She didn't want anyone suspecting anything about William Herdwick, the alias Percy borrowed from a farmer to spend time with her. Her servants could understand she wanted a semblance of normalcy, and that he seemed to be nice enough for a friend, but an engagement with a certain son of Hermes was expected to be hanging in the balance as the end of the season approached.
Calling a carriage herself and arriving at the circus grounds would have been implausible. The drivers would question why she wanted to leave for the dirty, crowded downtown, and her maids would dress her nicely for any suitor but she didn't want to muddy twenty layers of hand-spun cotton. Annabeth considered arriving at the shopping district, but then she would have to lose her chaperone, who knew very well that his duty was to follow Annabeth everywhere, and it would be a too-long walk in search of that tent.
Percy's most recent messenger left the horse Porkpie at the Athena stables, and at early dawn, Annabeth crawled down from her balcony in Julia's old shift, tucked her favorite necklace inside the collar with jewels but also a piece of coral, and mounted the Poseidon horse. They stuck to the back roads, where Annabeth smeared some mud on the bronze saddle to Porkpie's displeasure, and now she hopefully looked like any other traveler on this densely crowded street.
She had already memorized the map. A few roads away, she should spot Percy. Blackjack's gleaming ebony coat and his long, angular figure would not be hard to see. But she had to get Porkpie to move first. Clutching the reins, she carefully leaned over to his small, cupped ear.
"Hey," she whispered, and he flicked his ear away. "Um, I'll feed you some apples if you cross…?"
Porkpie let out a breathy snort, obviously ignoring her.
"What do you want? Sugar cubes? A pastry?" Why did this always work between Percy and Blackjack? They took a long time negotiating, but Blackjack at least appeared interested. Percy swore the horses understood them, and she'd watched their interactions enough times to be convinced, but maybe it didn't apply to her. "Okay, I don't know what they feed you at the Poseidon stables, but I'll make sure Percy gives you extra." Porkpie twitched his ears again. "Or something else? If I ever meet him again, I'll ask what you like, okay?"
"Come on! I promise you no buggy will hit you!" Annabeth sighed and slid off Porkpie. He straightened his back and grunted contentedly, then stared at her with his huge black eyes. She pulled his reins forward. "I'll lead you. And, yes, the deal with the food still holds."
Porkpie wasn't even carrying anything, so it was a strange sight to see a small servant girl leading him into the traffic. In the corner of her vision, Annabeth saw the lady and her team of footmen disappear into a nice home on the street behind her. She wondered why she was here, but from the sparse number of jewels the young woman wore, she probably didn't have a high title.
The less rich, the more freedom, she thought sardonically as she dodged a cart of wrinkled plums. Finally, back on a road again, Porkpie let her mount and carried her far enough until she saw a pointed metal spire rising above the stubby shops and taverns. Annabeth anxiously searched the road and found him within seconds.
Blackjack was flinging his thick tail around and prancing listlessly, clearly desperate to take off and fly down the small street. Percy was redoubtably tall on his horse, clinging on despite Blackjack's erratic movements, and Annabeth had to smile at the common clothes he was wearing. A too-small, unstarched undershirt was straining against his skin, and he had to hitch his rough-looking trousers high up to cover his stomach. The black overcoat shifted around his shoulders every time he moved, but Percy still looked perfectly comfortable. He was urging Blackjack to turn in a circle as he looking around, and pushing back his tangled hair, he spotted her. His eyes glowed viridescent, which she picked up from one of Miranda's botany books, though the description still didn't entirely fit, and his lips curled into his angular cheeks.
Percy didn't break his stare when he leaned forward on Blackjack, and the horse shot down the street, a blurred shadow. Porkpie whinnied happily.
"Welcome to the circus, Annabeth," he announced.
"I assume that would've been more dramatic if we were actually there," she said with a smirk, steering Porkpie forward.
Blackjack easily galloped ahead. "It's right there," Percy protested, sweeping out an arm.
They rounded the corner, and the red-and-white striped tent was pale in the early morning. Lights glimmered from the entrance, moving silhouettes of the crowd danced against the tent walls, and boisterous music faded in and out from the low noise of chatter.
Percy turned to Annabeth with a grin and you see? all over his face. She shrugged, but she was excited too. They settled Blackjack and Porkpie in the makeshift horse stalls and brushed them down to stop the angry snorts, and then fixing their clothes to make them fit a little bit better, headed to the circus.
Percy held out his arm, and Annabeth stared at him with a raised eyebrow. "Does this look like a ball to you?"
"No, but a lady such as you should have an escort."
Annabeth rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh out loud at the freedom of being able to do so She thought over it for a moment and looped her arm in his. She'd done this every dance she attended, with a wide variety of partners, but it was different this time. Neither of them were wearing gloves, and her hand brushed against his warm skin. She let out a small breath. And they weren't exactly in a place where escorts frequent. It was like they had some kind of secret together.
A burly pair of guards stood before the entrance, and a tuxedoed, spry man was grinning and bowing and plucking money from hands.
"Now, what will the handsome couple pay?" He asked, trying to wink slyly.
Annabeth hoped her blanching wasn't too obvious. "I want to be next to the stage," Percy proclaimed eagerly.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. She knew he couldn't help blurting, except he was now supposed to be speaking for them both. She also knew that the man's tickets were identical.
"Why, I can see this stylish mademoiselle may prefer something else," the man said, suddenly twirling gold-paper tickets before them. "Like the top-tier balcony seats."
It was also becoming clear that they weren't well-disguised. Strands of her recently-washed hair was slipping from her cap, and well, Percy's teeth were very shiny. Percy frowned. "But that's so far away from the action!"
Annabeth didn't expect an opportunity to sit, but it sounded like the better option. She was already reaching into her receptacle, dropping a few silver coins on the table. "Is that enough?"
Percy was staring at her. "Too much," he hissed. But the tickets were crammed into his palms and the line shoved them to the burly guards, who also pushed them past without a glance.
Annabeth hoped she wasn't blushing in mortification. Now that she thought of it, common people seemed to avoid naming prices around her. But Percy did most of the paying on their outings, and that was the normal amount he would give out. "How is a ticket cheaper than a coffee and a potpie?"
"I was tipping the waiter," Percy explained, but at least he wasn't being impatient with her. Even with her limited understanding of money, she knew that would be a generous tip. Annabeth decided to let things drop off where they were and look around the circus.
It was so rowdy. The act hadn't started yet, but some leotard-clad people were jumping around and hooting on the dusty stage as the backstage curtains fluttered every once in a while, with the noises of nervous chatter and frantic movements coming out in wisps. The crowd was frenzied. Percy stared longingly at the ring of people, proudly standing beside the stage, reaching out to touch the performers every once in a while. Annabeth pushed him up the stairs on the back wall.
The balcony was much nicer, with seats lined in wrinkled velvet and a polished mahogany bar running along the edge. But the noise of the crowd was now just a dull roar, and the sequins of the leotards twinkled from down below. The view was worse. Annabeth frowned as she sat down. The ticket man didn't even give them another choice. He clearly just wanted their money, and even without duping Annabeth, the balcony seats were clearly a lot more expensive.
"Sorry," Annabeth forced out from her throat.
Percy shrugged. "At least we won't be pushed against."
Annabeth quickly glanced around the balcony. There was no one of high title. Annabeth knew none of her relatives would be caught dead here, at least in a less obvious disguise. Some women were peering down with opera glasses.
Percy was eyeing her in that way he did when he had an idea. "Do you want to sneak downstairs? We paid."
She relented. She didn't want to disappoint him again. "Sure. I don't think any amount of pushing is going to get us to the stage, though."
"Don't worry, I don't want to offend your feminine sensibilities by making you push someone."
She frowned at him. "You know what, I wouldn't mind demonstrating." But they were heading down the stairs, so even if Athena would like it if he broke his neck, Annabeth decided against it. They slid into the crowd, close enough to feel the hoots and laughter and clapping echoing with their heartbeats.
Annabeth felt her throat close up. Everyone was brushing right against each other, and she kept feeling skin on her skin: calloused palms, the sweaty cheek of a toddler, a burn scar on someone's arm. She swallowed. She did not have a conscious memory of being in such a crowded place
"Percy," she whispered. "What are we doing here?"
He blinked at her, the raw excitement on his face fading slightly. "Is something wrong?"
This wasn't the same as pretending, having their own rickety table in a dusty café. "Should we be here?" Maybe it was her privilege speaking, the things she was told as a child. They all sounded wrong. "Why are we supposed to be different?"
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The ringmaster boomed, swinging out onto the stage. There was a low roar from the crowd, and he swept out his white-gloved hands, cutting off the silence. He paced, the red tail of his coat flying. "Welcome to The Travelling Circus!"
Sparklers and fire exploded, and a stunning throng of performers raced out, painted and singing and dancing like they were born to do it. Annabeth felt streamers and glitter flutter on her skin, and a smile tugged at her lips. It was incredible.
Percy shrieked as a water tank was pulled onto the stage, and a whole trio of singers rose from the water, their voices arching across the ceiling. They slipped underwater, their voices still echoing around them.
Annabeth realized he was indistinguishable from anyone else in the crowd at this moment. And so was she. And they were not supposed to be divided or set apart. And maybe they always could be, as long as they chose to enjoy these amazing things together.
She was going to invite Annica and whoever hadn't come yet. But for now, Annabeth decided to jump and make noise like everyone else as an acrobat jumped off the shimmering human pyramid.
Yay, okay, that short trip down memory lane is over now. Anyway, please check out the forum!
Again, thank you Rocketay for reading my A/Ns and just being amazing overall.
Au revoir,
Pride-and-loyalty