A/N: The more I plan this story, the more I feel like Oprah Winfrey: you get a death, you get a death, and you get a death!
(PS In order to get to the next chapter faster, I adapted some of Victoria Aveyard's passages near the end. I would rather work on my plot than work so hard on retelling the first Red Queen book)
Disclaimer: All rights remain.
Annabeth
"Chiron, Chiron!" She desperately pounded her fist against the wood.
"Princess?" her beloved professor opened the door, a book in each hand, a bewildered expression plastered on his face. He widened the door, ushering her in. "May I help you at this time of day?" he looked at her pointedly; it was past midnight and she really should not have been here. Medusa would have her head for this inappropriate behavior, but Luke had bought them time, and she had to make the best of it or she would never forgive herself. Looking at Chiron's face, she could see the small resemblance between him and his nephew, Percy, but it was so painful to witness, especially after watching the Prince mercilessly torture the Amazons- his prisoners. She hated his guts.
"I need your help," she breathed, second-guessing her decision to come here. Chiron was Percy's uncle, brother of former Queen Sally, and loyal to that one Calbourne son, and him alone.
He glanced up at her then, staring her down. He could read her like one of his books, like nobody else. He slowly frowned. "What did you do?" he was cautious.
She shook her head, ignoring his inquiry. "We need to free the Amazon prisoners."
Chiron blinked. "You mean the people behind the mass murder, a murder that took Crown Princess Bianca's life as well as many other valued members of the royal courts, including children?" His expression grew cold. "Why in Hades would you ever wish for that to happen?"
"It wasn't just them," said Annabeth quietly.
Now his eyes flashed with rare anger. "I know. The other Amazons got away, crawled out of the sewer system, and escaped."
"No," Annabeth denied him. He was right of course, but that was not what she'd meant. All of a sudden it felt like there was an elephant sitting on her chest, compressing her lungs, threatening to choke her.
"What are you not telling me?" Chiron demanded, setting down his books. The binding was coming apart on a deep red one, one that she could tell had been loved for many years.
"I was part of it," she whispered, so quiet he barely heard her, but when he did, she immediately regretted it. His face twisted angrily, and he stood up, slamming his palm into his desk.
"I warned you! I told you not to get in over your head!" he lectured. Annabeth flinched in shame. She had disappointed him, she had let him down so bad, but still within her, deep down inside of her, she couldn't find an ounce of regret for joining the Amazons. It was where she was meant to be, she knew. She had never belonged before, not before this. This was her cause, her reason for living, her reason for breathing, her reason for existence. She was born to do this, to lead this revolution side by side with Reyna, to be their golden mockingbird, their symbol of hope in the darkest of times. And she would not go back on it, not for all the love in the world.
"And now, for your foolishness, I have to watch my favorite student be sentenced to death!"
Annabeth clasped her hands together tightly and had the good sense to stare at her feet, at the stone cold ground. Her grip tightened at the thought of Bianca, another one dead because of her. She'd thought she'd be okay with this, thought she was prepared. But when you're staring death in the face, his cold beady eyes reflecting a picture of you and only you, nothing, nothing could prepare you for that. Not years of sneaking around the slums, not sparring for pride, not for kills in an arena with Instructor Zeus breathing down your neck, not arguing over arbitrary positions on the royal council. Not a single thing would wash the memory of Bianca out of her brain and give her peace.
"I'm sorry," she whispered after a moment of silence. He ignored it.
"What do you want me to do, Annabeth? You want me to distract the guards so you can sneak in and help your friends escape?" He shook his head at her, no longer angry, just… sad. Somehow she thought that was a whole lot worse.
"You said you wanted change," she looked up at him, ashamed to be scolded, angry that Chiron was, in many ways, right, angry that he couldn't take her side.
"Not murder, Princess. You've always been smart. You know the difference between right and wrong." He sat back down, quiet now, like her.
"I was wondering if you still had the spare keys to the prison." Chiron had kept his old science experiments in a few of the cells (they were prone to exploding at spontaneous times) and so her father, King Frederick, had given him a spare set of keys to all the locks.
"Yes." He didn't make a move to give it to her.
"May I have it?"
"To free the Amazons?" He sighed.
"Yes, sir. Please. Nobody will know you helped me, I promise."
"Of course they will, Annabeth. Of course they probably already know." He shook his head, murmuring something under his breath that she couldn't quite make out. She wondered if he regretted teaching her ever, if moments like these made him wonder if he'd even ever known her at all. Chiron unlocked a drawing in his desk, fishing around for the jangling set. The keys were looped neatly on a silver ring. "Here."
"Thank you, Chiron. And I'm- I'm sorry."
"Shut the door on your way out, child." He was quiet, but stern.
Annabeth bit her lip, nodding and doing as she was told. Once in the hallway, she tucked the keys in her skirt, where nobody could see. She closed her eyes for a moment, praying she was making the right decision. She absentmindedly wondered if Chiron was praying for her too, or if he was praying for his nephew, or if he was praying for them both, together.
Taking a deep breath, she slipped through the hallways, down the slippery stone steps, making her way to the cellars. There was no going back now; she already had too much blood on her hands to turn it around. And she didn't think the stains would ever vanish.
…
"Luke," she reached out for him, deliberately making a big display of affection and hugging him in front of the guards guarding the Amazon cell. She could practically feel Reyna rolling her eyes in her prison and Thalia smirking. Luke's eyes glinted with understanding, cleanly sweeping the keys out of her hand as she pressed it into the warmth of his palm. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear, quiet enough that nobody else could hear. Like he'd promised, he was here and ready to help her bust their friends out. He offered a small nod.
To the guards, "may we have a private moment with these filthy beasts?" she swallowed, pointing to the Amazons behind bars. The guards shared a look.
"We're not supposed to leave them unattended, Princess," one said stubbornly. Her eyes flashed angrily, but before she could speak out, Luke placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Whose orders are those?" Luke asked carefully, challenging them with his voice alone.
"Your brother's," one guard piped up.
Luke shook his head. "She's the Princess of Epresh. Her orders go before his."
One guard seemed doubtful. "Prince, with all due respect, your brother is a war hero and figuratively, a military king. We cannot go back on his orders. It is our duty."
Luke's jaw tightened. "But which castle are you in?"
"The Castle of House Ashington," the other guard acknowledged.
"Just as I thought. I wouldn't want to be mistaken," Luke said darkly. "So when in this castle, House Ashington precedes all others. She is the Princess of House Ashington, equal to any Prince, and preceding a House Calbourne Prince when in her own home. You will do as she says."
One guard slowly nodded, convinced by his logic. "Very well, sir. My mistake. My sincerest apologies, Prince," he bowed low to the ground for her. The other guard followed in suit and together they marched out of the cellar, offering them privacy. Luke followed after them, making sure that they didn't get back before Annabeth was done.
Once alone, Annabeth spun on her heels, making quick work of the lock. Reyna, Thalia, and the Reyna-like girl filed out silently. Zoe's bloody body had left only a stain on the ground and she was nowhere to be seen. Annabeth could only assume that servants had been ordered to properly dispose of her after King Tristan ended the Amazon's life. The blonde swallowed thickly at the thought. But before she could let Reyna and the others go, she had one thought nagging her in the back of her mind.
"The bomb," she hissed, spinning to face Reyna, her expression angry.
"I didn't know about it," Reyna revealed, shocking Annabeth.
"It wasn't us," the third, unfamiliar girl affirmed. Reyna glanced at the third girl, then at Annabeth.
"Annabeth, this is General Hylla. She's the General of another squad, but her squad was brought in for reinforcements for this mission."
Annabeth dipped her head in acknowledgement. "And," Reyna continued. "She's my sister." Hylla grinned, proud. Annabeth had known there was something similar about both girls.
"The bomb killed nearly a dozen," Annabeth frowned, wringing her hands.
"It wasn't the plan," Thalia shook her head. Then, as if another thought suddenly occurred to her… "is… is Jason okay?" Annabeth swallowed, still unfamiliar with Thalia's sibling relationship with her best friend/bodyguard.
"Yes," Annabeth assured her. "Not even a scrape."
"Thank god," Thalia muttered.
"So you'll find out what was behind the bomb?" Annabeth pressed, still not letting it go. Not quite yet. It was the bomb that ended Bianca's life, after all.
"Of course," Hylla promised her.
"We'll be in touch," Reyna promised. "Good work, Annabeth," she offered a rare smile, one that Annabeth managed to return, despite all the loss, all the hurt.
"Safe journey," Annabeth bid them goodbye, not before taking one of Hylla's daggers. That was the plan, after all. As soon as the Amazons were out of earshot, safe from the wrath of the royals, she screamed bloody murder and slashing the dagger against her arm. Blood flowed freely from the wound, and the dagger dropped to the ground. She gritted her teeth in pain.
Sure enough, the guards filed in, alarmed to see the prison unlocked and the Princess on the ground, bloody. They raised a gun to shoot, halting only when they realized it was just the Princess. "They- they," she choked, feigning surprise and betrayal. Luke ran to her side, hiding the keys in his heavy royal uniform and feigning concern and surprise. Though he did seem a bit too concerned about the cut for it to be entirely fake. Annabeth supposed she had cut a bit too deep. The guards' barrels facing against her frightened her. She hadn't expected them to be about to shoot. Imagine if they hadn't realized it was her and shot. She shuddered. In her sudden, unexpected fear, she forgot the blade entirely, not taking the weapon of her lies with her.
"Princess!" Luke exclaimed, helping her up. "I'm taking her to the infirmary. Alert my brother and my father, as well as King Frederick," he barked out orders, his eyes cold and unyielding. He ushered Annabeth out of the cell, sealing the success of the Amazon escape, and leading her up the stairway. And once they were out of eyesight, only then did he squeeze her hand with pride, silently assuring her. The Princess let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding in.
"Let's go see what Will can do," Luke suggested, applying the necessary pressure to the wound and staining his hands with her blood.
"They didn't know about the bomb," she whispered as they walked.
Luke frowned. "What happened, then?"
"I imagine Percy's squad probably caused the bomb while trying to catch the Amazons," she guessed. It sounded reasonable enough.
"I suppose," Luke still frowned as he gently guided her with her elbow around the corridors. "Are you okay?" he glanced at her cut then. "You cut awfully deep."
"A mistake," she shrugged, half-smiling. But it felt pained, forced. With this sword hanging over her, this guilt of those she'd killed, not much could make her feel better.
"We'll get you fixed up," the Prince promised, holding her close and protectively. She nodded, allowing him to guide her to the castle healer. Will had always been good at what he did.
Nico
In the stories, death was beautiful. Death had a pale face and a bittersweet smile. Death collected the loved ones and the living gushed about how beautiful they looked as they floated away to the heavens, their eyes closed and a serene expression on their face, like dolls, like if they held their breath and pretended for a moment, it was almost easy to believe that their angel was just sleeping.
But it didn't matter what they said. Because they weren't sleeping, because if they begged for them to wake up, they never would. Nothing could change that.
In the stories, death was beautiful. In real life, death came too early for those who didn't deserve it, and it hurt something fierce because goodbyes always hurt the most when the story was not finished. How was it that Nico had never seen her wings while she had still been here? And now it was all too late, for him, for everyone else. And it didn't matter how fast he tried to run, he would never be going fast enough, not enough, never enough, and he would never catch up to her. Missed but not lost, and left behind.
To Nico, crying was a way eyes spoke when mouths could not explain how broken the heart was. But deep inside him, he could not even find it in him to cry. With every second, all he could feel was this emptiness where she was supposed to be, this silence that she would have filled, that now just remained a gaping hole in his heart and his world. And now, there was nowhere to go but way down.
When a child lost their parents, they were named an orphan. But there were no words for losing for a sibling and Nico imagined it was because there was nothing truly like it, nothing that matched in the deep roots that were cut, in two minds being pried apart, one to go to wherever one went after death, and one doomed to spend the rest of its life on Earth, in reality, and alone.
In the stories, death was beautiful. It was an intricately woven promise of forgiveness, of relief, of something no mortal brain could comprehend. It was the remedy to everything, it was a beautiful lie. In reality, it was nothing more than a painful truth. And as Nico broke into his hands, the reminder of the scarlet blood slick on her face, her brown eyes wide open and empty, a fearful expression forever etched into Bianca's face, he realized that it was much easier said than done, that he could not stand and deal here, not now, not ever.
Bianca had always loved fairy tales. She'd been in love with this idea of happy endings. She was holding out for one of her own. Nico had once told her it was a delusional dream, that she was ridiculous, though he hadn't said that unkindly, though he hadn't said so with any trace of malice. She'd rolled her eyes at him. Pessimist, she'd grinned. He'd shook his head, smiling a tiny smile that he knew he only ever reserved for her. Realist, he'd mouthed, and she'd ruffled his hair way in that way that he'd always refused to admit secretly liking.
Nico didn't know about anyone else, but he was about ready for that fairy tale ending. Anytime now. But deep down, his realist side would not let him hope for a miracle, for lighter days. Because deep down, he knew this changed nothing, and it changed everything, and that fairy tales were just as real as they'd been when she was alive.
The young boy crumpled to the ground, his crown too large when he felt real small like this, when he acted much older than he actually was because despite his years, his life had always been much longer than anyone else's and it always would be.
It hurt, it fucking hurt so bad: that miracle was never coming.
Annabeth
"How are you feeling?" Luke inquired, walking back into the infirmary. He stood awkwardly at her bedside.
"Better," she assured him, flexing her bandaged arm for proof. "See," she smiled, but not without fatigue. "How'd it go for you?" she lowered her voice. Luke had gone to wipe the security cameras, covering the last of their tracks.
"Without a hitch," he confirmed. She smiled wider at that. "They did find a dagger in there though. Strange. The Amazons didn't peg me as the type to leave their weapons around, not even in escape. It's fine. It looks like Hylla's by the looks of it. I bet they'll just run some tests on it in the lab to confirm it's hers. Their fingerprint technology is excellent, so I'm not too worried. Once they see her fingerprints, they'll know it was hers. It had blood on it too, so that'll get scanned too." He shrugged.
However, Annabeth went pale all of a sudden. The dagger! In her rush to put distance between her and the guards, she'd forgotten the dagger! It had her blood, which was fine, the royals knew she'd been stabbed in their escape, but it the fingerprint scanner… Shit.
Her fingerprint. They had her fingerprint.
"And they- they can figure out whose fingerprint it is, just like that?"
"It takes some time, a week or so, but yes, that's how it's supposed to work." His eyes fell to her shaking hands, and he covered them with his own, letting warmth bleed into her suddenly cold skin.
"Annabeth?"
"That was the dagger," she whispered. "The one I used to cut myself. I was going to take the blade with me, but the guards… It's my fingerprint they found."
And then his hands were just as cold as hers.
For all his clever ideas, Luke had nothing to say to this. He just stared, his breath coming in tiny, scared puffs. She knew the look on his face; she wore it every time she was forced to say goodbye to someone.
"It's too bad. I would have liked to die in battle, on my feet like all my favorite literary heroines," Annabeth murmured.
Another breeze from the open window sent a curtain of her hair across her face, but Luke brushed it away and pulled her close with startling ferocity.
Annabeth was taken aback, his lips hot against hers. She didn't draw away, stunned, but she didn't exactly kiss back either- not that he showed any sign of disappointment. Luke's kiss was very different from his brother's. While Percy's was intoxicating, yet controlled, drowning her senses in him, Luke was fierce, angry, and burning hot. His was like he was losing control, like he was already lost, already gone… gone in her.
When he pulled away, his blue eyes were hard and fiery. Only then Annabeth remembered how hot blue fire burned. He was angry, but not at her, for her. Something inside her melted.
"I won't let you die," he promised, and for a moment, Annabeth wanted nothing more than to believe him. At her unsure expression, he grit his teeth, squeezing her hand tightly in his.
"I swear it."
Annabeth
"Did you get it too?" she breathed, outstretching her hand to place her palm on his forearm. She'd never been the touchy-feely type, but this physical contact, it helped her cope, it made Bianca's death seem more real, made all of this feel more real. In some ways, it was comforting.
"They've agreed," Luke nodded, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
"Did you think they wouldn't?" Annabeth inquired, pursing her lips. She'd never really asked Luke what he thought of the Amazons, now come to think of it.
"Of course they would," he was confident. "How could we afford to pass up the opportunity to end this entire war? Reyna's not a fool."
Annabeth worried her bottom lip. "I know, but… it's just that this could go so very wrong, so very easily. And we could be executed if caught, for treason."
"We're traitors either way. At least this way we can make an escape and bring down part of the monarchy in the process," the Prince reasoned. "And that won't happen. I promised, didn't I?"
Annabeth was immediately brought back to the night before, of his lips on hers, of his warm hands squeezing hers- physical pressure to alleviate the emotional pain. I won't let you die. I swear it. She managed a poker face, praying that she wasn't flushing pink. "So you're a man of your word?" she tried to lighten the mood.
"You could say that." A muscle in his cheek twitched and he glanced the other away, making sure they were alone. "So tonight. You've got this?"
She nodded, exhaling shakily. "I've got this." He didn't ask if she was sure, if she needed a moment to breathe. If she said she had this, she had it, and he believed her. It was just one of the many things she deeply respected about him.
"If we do this right, if we hit the royals at their heart and execute this properly, we kill the heart of the war. And if he falls, the war ends. We can't afford any errors. Proceed with caution, Annabeth." He frowned.
It was a lot of pressure. She was the distraction… of Perseus, of course. Fuck. "What if he doesn't pay attention?" she voiced her concerns, her forehead creasing with worry. How could she keep his attention while the Amazons captured King Poseidon, forcing him to his knees? She had to give them enough time, she just had to.
"You'll make him," Luke assured her.
She shook her head, gnawing on her lips once more. "But what if?" She knew 'what if' was an endless game, and it was very unproductive. What if aliens landed and captured her, keeping her tragically apart from the Amazons? What if Percy was actually a werewolf all along and he wanted to sacrifice her blood to his pack in a Satanic ritual? What if Queen Medusa was an evil tooth fairy, hiding in plain sight and biding her time before leaving nothing but pink gums in Annabeth's pretty smile? Some things, Annabeth had decided a long time ago, were too unlikely to dwell upon. Still, even if only for a moment, she allowed herself to entertain the thought of her failure.
"He won't. You're too good."
"How do you know that?" she demanded, too concerned to feel bashful under his praise.
"Perseus likes to believe the best of people," Luke shrugged.
"But he's a military hero," she pointed out. "He's not stupid." She paused. "Unfortunately," Annabeth quietly whispered under her breath.
Luke grinned at her small jab at his older brother. "No one could tear their eyes away from you. You have a way of drawing… er… attention to yourself."
Annabeth glared, crossing her arms over her chest, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She just knew he was referring to her infamous outburst at the royal council meeting, the one that Percy had dragged her away from before he… best not dwell upon that. "And I thought you were a gentleman," she teased. He flashed a charming, yet sheepish smile at her.
"Besides, even if you're perfectly pleasant, he'll still pay attention to you. He always would."
Annabeth scoffed. "Oh, yeah?"
"Of course," Luke cleared his voice, devoid of all amusement now. "He likes you."
At that, Annabeth choked, coughing inelegantly. How did he know?! Then, of course, once she'd stopped hacking like a cat spitting up a furball, she regained her wit, realizing that Luke probably didn't know about that sinful kiss, it was merely a conjecture. "Excuse me?" she coughed, fanning her face in hopes that it would somehow lessen her choking fit.
Luke frowned. "He makes googly eyes at you all the time. It's disgusting." He stared as she choked some more. "You really haven't noticed?"
"Not really," she let out a sigh of relief, grateful that she wasn't dying anymore. She stood up straight, trying to regain her composure. "So you're telling me that this entire plan rides on Percy's so-called affection for me?" Annabeth blanched. In that case, she was so, so screwed. He'd probably forgotten all about her already. "You seriously think he wouldn't notice his world burning around him just because I'm standing in front of him, just to talk with me? I can't possibly believe that."
"I can," he glanced at her once more, a look full of meaning and emotion. She swallowed hard.
"Because?" she dared ask, but her voice was awfully small now. She already knew the answer, and she wasn't sure what to do with it. It was too raw, too deep, too real, too intimate.
"Because I would do the same."
Annabeth
Annabeth didn't dress up for anyone but herself, but if what her betrothed said was true (and based off the way the Crown Prince kissed her, she was sure Luke was right), then she might as well have made the best of it, using it to her advantage. It wasn't fair to manipulate people's emotions like this, she knew that too. But she wasn't about to let Reyna's entire squad get massacred because she didn't want to hurt Percy's feelings. He was a royal, a soon-to-be-ruler at that. She should've hated him. Fuck him. With that questionable moral statement in mind, Annabeth held her head high, allowing her handmaidens' work to its job.
That night she wore a royal blue ball gown- a nod towards her tie with Luke- but more importantly, a carefully planned strategy for her encounter with Percy. After all, blue was one of his colors too.
Across the ballroom, Luke peered at her, hoping to gain her attention. Lucky for him, her eyes had been trained on him all night, waiting with anticipation for the cue. She'd only looked away once- once to hear Malcolm's speech about Bianca- a tear jerking speech. Annabeth's throat had constricted seeing what nobody else say that Malcolm was on the edge of losing it, that he wasn't ready, that he was grieving something fierce, that he hadn't even really known her, but like Annabeth, they loved the Pevanshire children. He had not spoken to her since Bianca's death, surely blaming her and the Amazons for her death. If only he knew how true that statement was.
Now, Lukee took a sip from his glass, tapping it with his pointer finger twice. He looked away before she could say anything, and taking a deep breath, she did as she was supposed to. Because he'd tapped it twice, that meant Percy was no longer in the ballroom. And that was a good thing- it'd be easier to keep him at bay this way, but it did nothing to mute her fears. She set her glass down on a passing server's tray and stepped out into the stone corridors. It was a bit chilly and for a moment, she regretted everything. Regretted joining the Amazons, regretted turning her back on her brother by forming a new alliance, regretted not indulging in her childhood while she'd still had it, regretted everything bad she'd ever done up until that very moment. And then she saw him, his dark hair blending in with the stone walls. He was speaking with a guard, no doubt verifying the security. Ever since the bomb, everyone had been on the edge of their seat. The only reason so many royals had attended this ball was because King Frederick was supposed to issue a statement against the Amazons, a declaration of war. Annabeth's breath hitched as Percy turned the corner, surely heading back to the ball. When he took another path, she frowned. She could not lose him, not now. Hiking up her skirt, she padded softly behind him.
After following him for several minutes, he stopped at a balcony overlooking a beautiful view of the castle garden. The moon reflected it's silky cream in the pond below. And then-
"I can hear you, you know," he said, and her blood froze. Percy turned around to face her, and his face was impassive. "You don't do subtle, do you?"
She frowned. "I thought I was doing pretty good." You have a way of drawing… er… attention to yourself, Luke's words echoed in her mind. Well, maybe not after all.
He scoffed. "Hardly. In that bright blue dress? Good one," he turned back to the view, gazing across the plants steadily.
She huffed. "If you really knew, then why didn't you stop me earlier?" she challenged him. He felt very movie-esque to her, enough that it was almost funny.
Percy shrugged. "I wanted to see how far you'd follow me. Curiosity." He stared off into the distance thoughtfully as guards passed by. Annabeth couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest, she snorted.
"Please do try to look more conspicuous, Your Highness," she mocked. As soon as they were alone once more, Percy shot her a dirty look, much to her amusement. But despite him feigning irritation, Percy could not keep the little smile on his face at bay.
"You're unbelievably irritating, you know that?" he shook his head at her.
She beamed. "I know. I know everything."
"And modest too."
At that, she laughed, and he reflected her amusement with a signature, crooked smile. One that had been ridiculously annoying at first and had slowly grown on her as one of his many endearing traits.
However, her laughter died down as she remembered what she was doing there. Quietly, Annabeth realized the Amazons would be beginning the operation now. She tried to keep her head screwed on right. She was vital to the success and she had to keep her facade up. Except… except maybe it wasn't all a facade. Maybe she liked bickering with him and though a part of her despised him for the way he believed the war needed to continue in order to avoid the fall of both genders, statuses (and she knew he would think the royals to always be in the right; it was just how he'd been raised), there was a part of her that also remembered how kind he'd been to her and the various ways he'd shown her he cared about her. It was at that moment she realized her act was not entirely false, and it was a crushing blow. Annabeth sucked in a deep breath, leaning on the balcony for support. It was not entirely false. And fuck because it wasn't supposed to work like that.
"Are you okay?" his voice cut through her revelation.
"Fine," she wheezed, half-wincing as her skin brushed against the cold stone.
"People aren't usually fine when they're draped all over a building like a pathetic noodle."
She blinked. "You're such an asshole."
He didn't flinch at her vulgar language. "Maybe," he smirked, but his eyes revealed his worry all too easily. He looked like he had before she'd passed out in his arms- much to her annoyance, of course (way to look like a damsel in distress; nice going Annabeth). He'd begged her not to black out, still soaked in Bianca's blood. The image of his pleading almost haunted her more than Bianca's corpse. It had been so… wrong, there was no other way to describe it. He was too strong to fall to his knees and plead, and yet, he would do that later that night if all went well with the Amazons. Annabeth tried not to think about it too much.
She stood up instead, not allowing her moment of weakness to brand her. Gingerly, the blonde brushed off the blue dress. His sea green eyes traveled down the silk, but it wasn't subtle. She suspected he wasn't trying to be subtle at all, actually.
"I like your dress," he added, casually, almost as if it were an afterthought. His gaze softened when he met her eyes, if only for a moment. "Blue suits you." And then he looked back out at the garden.
"I wonder how white would fare," she brought up the other Calbourne color and looked off into the distance just like him.
"I don't know," he shook his head. "I'm not a fashion designer."
She eyed his royal uniform and feigned disdain. In all honesty, he seemed very Kingly, but she would rather die before she admitted it. "Believe me, I know."
He cracked a smile at no one in particular. "And you say I'm the asshole," he gently teased. Their peaceful silence was met with a loud bang and Annabeth flinched in surprise. No doubt the Amazons had the King on the floor. Perhaps they would take her own father down as well. An image of Frederick swam in her mind, but Annabeth could not find a hint of remorse in her. Her father had never really been a father, not to her, not to Malcolm.
Immediately, Percy was on alert, his hand snapping to the hilt of his sword. "What the hell?" He spun around, facing the balcony doors behind them. A man cried out behind them and Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut. She had to keep him away. Percy was about to race off the balcony to trace the sound, but hesitated for a moment when he glanced at her. For a wonderful moment, Annabeth wondered if he would just stay here to 'keep her poor self company.' He was a soldier first, but a gentleman all the same. As strong as she was, he knew it was duty to protect his people and the royals, and that included her. However, she should've known better.
"Well, don't just stand there," and with an iron grip, he pulled her after him, protecting her just like she figured he would, but in an unorthodox way. Annabeth's eyes were wide with surprise, allowing the Prince to lead her down the hallway, her struggling to keep up with his quick sprint. Her heels were not designed for running like a lunatic.
"Slow down!" she pleaded, and not just to keep him away from the commotion anymore. Her feet were killing her. Percy looked at her like she was crazy. Or stupid. Or both.
"I'm pretty sure a man just died and we're on the brink of attack by some unnamed hooligans, and you're telling me to slow down?!" he ran faster, taking her by the elbow since she had more leverage when he held only her hand.
"I'm wearing heels!" she protested. "Excuse me for not being in a full military outfit. If you haven't noticed, that's not typically appropriate for a lady!" she snipped at him as they sprinted together.
He had the audacity to roll his eyes as they ran. "Want me to carry you?" said Percy sarcastically. She glared at him.
"I'm not a damsel in distress," she snapped.
"Then don't act like one," he shot back and she was taken aback. He had some nerve and why, oh why did she find that so attractive? Fucking stupid Prince, getting in her head, taking up all her thinking space. She stumbled as he stopped suddenly, standing over the dead body. Annabeth had the good sense to keep quiet, averting her gaze at the killed guards. There were golden arrows wrenched in their bodies and they were bleeding, their blood pooling together.
Percy cursed, spotting the golden glitter spilled all over the place. The Amazons had always had a weird sense of humor and a flair for dramatics. "Amazons," he growled, swiftly unsheathing his sword. Remembering all too well what he was capable of, Annabeth took a cautionary, hasty step back. The blade glowed under the wall torches, dangerous, but it was not as sharp as the look in his eyes.
He reached for his belt, probably about to produce another blade for Annabeth. A thick rope of golden curls, meticulously woven into a braid, ran down her back, gliding over the blue silk of her dress. She had known there would be a fight and so she'd prepared as best she could. Though she had indeed forgotten about her shoes. But she would never forget her weaponry, not even if it was inappropriate for a lady like her to carry one around.
"Don't bother," she held up a hand. Reaching for the fabric of her gown, Annabeth pursed her lips, bunching up the cloth in front of her, wrapping it and tying it around her front. If she was going to fight, she didn't need to be tripping all over her fabric. She reached for her silver snake bracelet, complete with rubies for eyes, and unsheathed a concealed rapier dagger, hidden in the jewelry. The red gems winked up at her and the sharp tip glinted wickedly.
"Your own dagger?" Percy could not hide his surprise. He glanced at the dagger in her hand with appreciation. "Celestial bronze," he nodded, recognizing the lethal metal immediately. "You never fail to surprise," he looked up at her, tilting his head to the side.
"We aim to please," she nodded in return.
"And the shoes?" he pointed. "I'm not slowing down for you again, and I'd rather not babysit you to make sure you don't tragically trip and fall on your own blade." He grinned, but it was cold. Annabeth kicked them off.
"What shoes?"
His grin widened. "I knew I always liked you." He peered down the dark hallway and narrowed his eyes. "Now. Let's go kick some Amazon ass."
Annabeth swallowed thickly, both at his words (he certainly didn't act like he liked her, not in her opinion anyways), and at the mention of the Amazons. "Sure," was all she said, and raced after him into the dark, praying that she would not have to fight him. With his bold words and natural kindness, she wasn't sure she'd be able to even lift a blade in his direction, much less end him in cold blood. She hurried to keep up.
…
Percy burst into the ballroom, the blonde on his heels. In all honesty, Annabeth had done pretty good with time. Reyna, her face covered with a golden bandana, had already caused many deaths. Some royals glanced over at Percy's dramatic entrance. Some of them glanced at Annabeth, her feet bare and a dagger in her hand. She supposed she looked shocking too.
Percy was pale at the sight of royals battling for their lives, fighting desperately against golden warriors.
"Perfect!" Thalia crowed behind Reyna, coming out from behind the commotion Though she wore a bandana as well, Annabeth recognized her by her signature blue eyes and voice. Annabeth spotted Jason, pale and bruised, shocked at the presence of sister. So he had not known she was alive either. He didn't even look angry that she was an Amazon, just ghosted by her… liveliness. She suspected he had thought Thalia was dead. Thalia turned to look at Percy and Annabeth, but she didn't even spare a glance at the blonde. "The last of the royal children, just what we'd been waiting for."
Annabeth's dagger felt cold in her hand.
"Amazon scum," Percy snarled, raising his blade in a challenge. "Don't you dare touch her," he shielded Annabeth with his body, prepared for anything. The blonde could not disguise her shock. Of all things, the first thing he did was look out for her. Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut as Thalia laughed, throwing her head back in amusement. To her, in this very moment, it was akin to nails scraping against a chalkboard. She grinned at Annabeth, but the Princess didn't flinch.
"So loyal, little Prince," she teased, stabbing a nearby royal. They fell to the ground, the wound ending their life. Annabeth blinked. This was going to hurt him so much. Fuck. She regretted it all. She didn't want to do this to him. Silently she pleaded for Thalia's silence, but she knew it would not happen that way. "But rest assured, I won't hurt her. Right, Annabeth?"
Annabeth swallowed, staring at her bare feet.
"Annabeth?" Percy looked at her confusion. And then it clicked. He glared at her and she wanted nothing more than for a hole to open up in the ground and swallow her up. "You're one of them," he whispered, ripping her pride to pieces. The Kings and the royal children would have been in the throne room then. Surely the Amazons would be after them soon. But the military hadn't come in yet. The royals could still win.
Percy spun around and slammed a large, red alarm button on the side of the wall. The Amazons had sent only a small squad, and seeing the alarm go off, they began to flee. Thalia's expression darkened as red lights flashed across the room, calling for reinforcements. The military would be there soon and she had failed, she had failed, the plan had gone awry, and Percy had put two and two together, realizing that she was both with the Amazons and was partly responsible for all the deaths at the ball.
"Guards!" he called as the men filed in, ending a few Amazons in their wake. Annabeth flinched. "Kill them all, all except their General if you can find her! I don't want any fucking prisoners!" he ordered and they got to work, some of the Amazons escaping, and others falling over in front of her very eyes. It was a losing battle, and it was over now. Thalia had fled now, having tried to pull Annabeth out of the way, but the blonde was numb with Percy's disappointment. She was going to die now, die a traitor, die in front of Malcolm and her mother and everyone and she didn't care so much anymore. She hoped Luke made it out okay.
"And you," he spit, pointing a finger at her. He knocked her blade out of her hands and caught it swiftly, all before she could even open her mouth. "You lied to me. You slowed me down on purpose," he shook his head at her, not quite yelling, but there was this unfamiliar pain in his eyes, the truth of her betrayal finally hitting her at full force. "And now I have to bring you in front of my father, see what he'll want to do with you." Percy didn't say anything else, for there were no words for her traitorous actions.
Annabeth slumped as he got some guards to handcuff her, linking her in this prison, this hell. Annabeth was hauled away, shoved to the throne room, the guards' hands all over her. She couldn't even feel pain anymore.
"Annabeth? Annabeth!" she recognized Luke's voice across the room. Fuck. No, he had to get away, even if she died. He had to. She couldn't let him go either, not now, not here.
"Luke!" He ran towards her and she struggled against the guards to get her words out. At the sight of him, tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. "No, Luke, I messed up. You have to get out, you have to," she panicked.
"No, Annabeth! They'll kill you!" Luke protested.
"Just listen to me!" she watched in horror as he raised a blade. "No, Luke don't-"
The Prince stabbed one of the royal guards right through the heart. Percy blanched, surprised by his brother's treachery.
"You- you-" Percy sputtered. And then he noticed Luke's sword. He shut his eyes, praying for a miracle, divine intervention, strength, Annabeth didn't know what. The sword was gold.
"Lukey," Percy choked, and Annabeth had never felt more guilty in his life. "I can't-" he took a deep breath. "Guards, him too," he said it so quietly, Annabeth wasn't even sure Percy knew what to do anymore. Annabeth silently watched as Epresh's guards handcuffed Luke to her side, both of them on the path for execution.
"I'm so sorry, Luke I'm sorry," she said loudly over the commotion. He shook his head, looking at the ground. He, like her, had made his choice. And now it was time to face the consequences.
Percy looked the other direction as the guards hauled them to the throne room.
Annabeth
Annabeth could barely keep up the pace, but the soldier at her back, holding her shacked arms, kept shoving. Another did the same to Luke, forcing him along with her. Zeus followed them, making sure they couldn't escape. His presence was a dark weight, dulling her senses. The blonde could still see the passage around them, empty and far from the prying eyes of the court, but she didn't have the strength to care. Percy led the pack, his shoulders tense and tight as he fought the urge to look back.
The sound of gunfire and screams and blood in the tunnels rumbled in her mind. The Amazons were dead.
Her and Luke were dead. It was over.
Their footfalls didn't even echo as they entered- soundproof. No one could hear them. And that frightened her more than the guns or the fire or the pure rage rippling off the king. Absentmindedly, she wondered where Frederick was, where the other royal children were, and Malcolm, and Athena. No doubt they were dealing with the captured Amazons.
King Poseidon stood in the center of the room, dressed in his own gilded armor with the crown on his head. His ceremonial sword hung at his side. Queen Medusa was here as well, waiting for them in her royal ball gown. The moment they entered, her eyes met Annabeth's.
"Leave us," Medusa said, her voice cutting and sharp. The soldiers waited, looking to Percy. When he nodded, they took their leave, departing in a din of clicking boots. When the march of boots faded away, the King allowed himself to exhale.
"Son?" He looked at Percy, and Annabeth could see the slightest quiver in his fingers. But what he could possibly fear, she didn't know. "I want to hear this from you."
"They've been a part of this for a long time," Percy muttered, barely able to say the words. "Since she was betrothed, I imagine."
"Both?" Poseidon turned away from Percy, to his forgotten son. He looked almost sad, his face pulling into a pained frown. His eyes wavered, reluctant to hold his gaze, but Luke stared right back. He would not flinch. "You knew about this, my boy?"
Luke nodded. "I helped plan it."
Poseidon stumbled, like his words were a physical blow. "And the shooting?"
"I chose the targets." Percy squeezed his eyes shut, like he could block this all out.
Luke's eyes slid past his father, to Medusa, who stood close by. They held each other's gaze for a moment.
"You told me to find a cause, Father. And I did. Are you proud of me?"
But Poseidon rounded on the Princess instead, snarling like a bear. "You did this! You poisoned him, you poisoned my boy!" When tears sprung to his eyes, she knew the King's heart, no matter how small or cold, had been broken. He loved Luke, in his own way. But it was too late for that. "You've taken my son from me!"
"You have done that yourself," Annabeth said through gritted teeth. "Luke has his own heart, and he believes in a different world as much as I do. If anything, your son changed me."
"I don't believe you. You have tricked him somehow."
"She does not lie."
Hearing Medusa agree with her ripped her breath away.
"Our son has always thirsted for change." Her eyes lingered on her son. She sounded afraid. "He is just a boy, Poseidon."
Save him, she screamed out in her head. They had to save Luke, they had to.
Next to her, Luke sucked in a breath, waiting for what would be their doom. Poseidon looked at his feet, knowing the laws better than anyone else, but Percy was strong enough to meet his brother's gaze. Annabeth could see him remembering their life together. Flame and shadow. One could not exist without the other.
After a long moment of hot, stifling silence, the King put a hand on Percy's shoulder. His head shook back and forth, and tears tracked down his cheeks into his beard.
"A boy or not, Luke has killed. Together with this- this snake-" he pointed a shaking finger at Annabeth. "He has committed grave crimes against his own. Against me, and against you. Against our throne."
"Father-" Percy moved quickly, putting himself between the King and them. "He is your son. There must be another way."
Poseidon stilled, putting aside the father to become King again. He wiped away his tears with a brush of the hand. "When you wear my crown, you will understand."
The Queen's eyes narrowed into blue slits. Her eyes, they were the same as Luke's.
"Fortunately, that will never happen," she said plainly.
"What?" Poseidon turned to her but stopped halfway, his neck against a sword. Annabeth had seen this before. Long ago, Medusa had even blown her against the wall, turning her into a puppet, before Luke had saved her from the Queen's wrath. Again, the Queen held the strings.
"No!" he yelled as she forced him to his knees.
Percy bristled, but Medusa held a hand out, stopping him in his tracks. She had them both. Behind her, Zeus stepped forward, the one guard to never leave, the instructor of training. He pointed a sword at Percy.
Poseidon struggled, his teeth clenched, but he couldn't move an inch without his head being chopped. "Medusa. Zeus-!"
But the old instructor didn't move. Instead, he stood quietly, content to watch. It seemed his loyalties were not with the King but with the Queen. She was saving them. For her son's life, she was going to save them. Annabeth and Luke bet on Percy loving her enough to change the world; they should've looked to the Queen instead. Annabeth wanted to laugh, to smile, but something in Percy's face kept her relief at bay.
"Chiron warned me," Percy growled, still trying to break Zeus's hold. "I thought he was lying about you, about my mother, about what you did to her."
On his knees, the King howled. It was a wretched sound, one she never wanted to hear again. "Sally," he moaned, staring at the floor. "Chiron knew. Kayla knew. You punished her for the truth."
"Medusa, you have to get Luke out of here," Annabeth told her. "Don't worry about me, just keep him safe."
"Oh, don't you fret, little Annie," she sneered. "I don't think about you at all. Though your loyalty to my son is quite inspiring. Isn't it, Luke?" She tossed a glance over her shoulder to her son, still shackled. In response, his arms snapped out, pulling apart the metal shackles with shocking ease. Zeus had loosened them. When he rose to his feet, Annabeth expected him to defend her, to save her like she was trying to save him. Then she realized Zeus still had hold of her, and he was still holding her back, even though he had let Luke go.
When Percy's eyes met hers, she knew he understood much better than she did. Anyone can betray anyone echoed louder and louder, until it howled in her ears like the winds of a hurricane.
"Luke?" She had to look up to see his face, and for a second, she didn't recognize him. He was still the same boy, the one who had comforted her, kissed her, kept her strong. Her friend. More than her friend. But something was wrong with him. Something had changed. "Luke, help me up."
He rolled his shoulders, cracking the bones to chase away an ache. His motions were sluggish and strange, and when he settled back on his feet, hands on his hips, she felt like she was seeing him for the first time. His eyes were so cold.
"No, I don't think so."
"What?" She heard her voice like it was coming from someone else. She sounded like a little girl. She was just a little girl.
Luke didn't answer but held her gaze. The boy she knew was still there, hiding, flickering behind his eyes. If she could just reach him- but Luke moved faster than her, pushing her away when she reached out.
"CAPTAIN LA RUE!" Percy roared, still able to speak. Medusa had not taken that from him yet. But no one came running. No one could hear them. "NICO! MALCOLM, SOMEONE, HELP!"
Medusa was content to let him shout, enjoying the sound, but Luke flinched. "Do we have to listen to this?" he asked.
"No, I supposed we don't," she sighed, tipping her hand with the sword. Percy's body moved with her intentions, shifting to face his father.
Percy panicked, his eyes growing wide. "What are you doing?"
Beneath him, the King's face darkened. "Isn't it obvious?"
Annabeth didn't understand at all. She didn't belong here. Chiron was right. This was a game she didn't understand, a game she didn't know how to play. She wished Chiron were her now, to explain, to help, to save her. But no one was coming.
"Luke, please," she pled, trying to make him look at her. But he turned his back, focusing on his mother and his betrayed blood. He was his mother's son.
She didn't care that Annabeth spoke fondly of Luke. She didn't care that he was part of all this. She didn't even look surprised. The answer was frighteningly simple. Because she already knew. Because he was her son. Because this was her plan all along. The thought stung like knives running along skin, but the pain only made it more real.
"You used me."
Finally, Luke condescended to look back at her. "Catching on, are you?"
"You chose the targets. Duke Atlas of House Raya, General Ares of House Langen, King Minos of the Southern Isles, even King Tristan of House Raya- they weren't the Amazons' enemies, they were yours." She wanted to tear him apart. She wanted to make him hurt. She was finally learning her lesson. Anyone could betray anyone.
"And this, this was just another plot. You pushed me into this, even though it was impossible, even though you knew Percy would never betray his father! You made me believe it. You made all of us believe it."
"It's not my fault you were stupid enough to play along," he replied. "Now the Amazons are finished."
It felt like a kick in the teeth. "They were your friends. They trusted you."
"They were a threat to my kingdom," he fired back. He stooped, bending over her with a twisted smile. "Were."
Medusa laughed at his cruel joke.
"You made me believe," Annabeth whispered again, remembering every lie he had ever told her. "I thought you wanted to help us." It came out a whimper. For a split second, his pale features softened. But it didn't last.
"Foolish girl," Medusa said. "Your idiocy was almost our ruin. Leaving the blade behind with blood and everything. Do you really think I was so stupid as to miss your tracks?"
Numb, she shook her head. "You let me do it. You knew about it all."
"Of course I knew. How else do you think you came so far? I had to cover your tracks, I had to protect you from anyone with enough sense to see the signs," she snarled, growling like a beast. "You do not know the lengths I went to keep you from harm." She flushed with pleasures, enjoying every second of this. "But you a little girl, an Amazon, and like all the others, you were doomed to fail."
It broke against Annabeth, memories falling into place. She should've known, deep down, not to trust Luke. He was too perfect, too brave, too kind. He turned his back on his own to join the Amazons. He pushed her at Percy. He gave her exactly what she wanted, and it made her blind.
Wanting to scream, wanting to weep, she let her eyes trail to Medusa. "You told him exactly what to say," she whispered. Medusa didn't have to nod, but Annabeth knew she was right. "You know who I am in here, and your knew-" her head ached, remembering it all "-you knew exactly how to win me over."
Nothing had hurt more deeply than the hollow look on Luke's face.
"Was anything true?"
When he shook his head, she knew that was also a lie.
"Even Iris?" The girl who died fighting. Her name was Iris and I saw her die. The name punched through his mask, cracking the facade of cool indifference, but it wasn't enough. He shrugged off the name and the pain it caused him. "Another dead girl. She makes no difference."
"She makes all the difference," Annabeth whispered to herself.
"I think it's time to say your goodbyes, Luke," Medusa cut in, putting a white hand on her son's shoulder. Annabeth had struck too close to his weak spot, and she wouldn't let her push further.
"I have none," he whispered, turning back to his father. His blue eyes wavered, looking at the crown, the sword, the armor, anywhere but his father's face. "You never looked at me. You never saw me. Not when you had him." He jerked his head toward Percy.
"You know that's not true, Luke. You are my son. Nothing will change that. Not even her," Poseidon said, casting a glance at Medusa. "Not even what she's about to do."
"Dearest, I'm not doing anything," she chirped back. "But your beloved boy-" she slapped Percy across the face "- the perfect heir-" she slapped him again, harder this time "-Sally's son." Another slap drew blood, splitting his lip. "I cannot speak for him"
Thick red blood dripped down Percy's chin. Luke's eyes lingered on the blood, and the slightest frown pulled at his features.
"We had a son too, husband," Medusa whispered, her voice ragged with rage as she turned back to the King. "No matter how you felt about me, you were supposed to love him."
"I did!" he shouted, straining against her hold. "I do."
Annabeth knew what it was like to be cast aside, to stand in another's shadow. But this kind of anger, this murderous, destructive, terrible scene was beyond her comprehension. Luke loved his father, his brother- how could he let her do this? How could he want this?
But he stood still, watching, and she couldn't find the words to make him move.
Nothing prepared her for what came next, for what Medusa forced her puppets to do. She dug her sword into his back. "Do it," she demanded. "Or you die."
Percy shook his head, stubborn as ever. He would die for his father, Annabeth knew it with certainty.
"Or she dies, tortured slowly in front of you for endless hours. Or I make you do it," she threatened. Percy stilled for a moment, and his hand shook, reaching forward, pushed along by her will and her threats. He would die for others, but he could not let others die for him. Stupid, stubborn soldier. Tears pricked at Annabeth's eyes. No! She wished he would let her die for him, to allow her this one thing, but he would not. Percy tried to resist, struggling with every ounce of strength he had, but it was no use. This was a battle he didn't know how to fight. When his hand closed around the sword, pulling it from the sheath at his father's waist, the last piece of the puzzle slipped into place. Tears coursed down his face.
"It's not you," Poseidon said, his eyes on Percy's wretched face. He didn't bother pleading for his life. "I know it's not you, son. This is not your fault."
No one deserved this. No one. In Annabeth's head, she reached for her dagger and slashed Medusa and Luke, saving the Prince and the King. But even that fantasy was tainted. Reyna was dead. Thalia was dead. The revolution was over. In her imaginings, she could not fix that.
The sword rose in the air, shaking in Percy's trembling fingers. Luke watched the blade closely, carefully, because he was too afraid to watch his father in his last moments. I thought you were brave. I was so wrong.
"Please," was all Percy could say, forcing the words out. "Please."
There was no regret in Medusa's eyes and no remorse. This moment had been coming for a long time. When the sword flashed, arcing through air and flesh and bone, she didn't blink.
The King's corpse landed with a thud, his head rolling to a stop a few feet away. Blood splashed across the floor in a mirrored puddle, lapping at Percy's toes. He dropped the sword, letting it clang against stone, before falling to his knees, his head in his hands. The crown clattered across the floor, circling through the blood, until it stopped to rest at Luke's feet, sharp points bright with liquid red.
When Medusa screamed, wailing and thrashing over the King's body, Annabeth almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of it all. Had she changed her mind? Had she lost it entirely? Then she heard the click of cameras switching on, coming back to life. They poked out of the walls, pointing straight down at the King's body and what looked like a Queen mourning her fallen husband. Luke yelled at her side, one hand on his mother's shoulder.
"You killed him! You killed the King! You killed our father!" he screamed in Percy's face. Only a hint of a smirk remained, and somehow Percy resisted the urge to rip his brother's head off. He was in shock,not understanding, not wanting to understand. But for once, Annabeth certainly did.
The truth didn't matter. It only mattered what the people believed. Chiron tried to teach her that lesson before, and now she understood it. They would believe this little scene, this pretty play of actors and lies. And no army, no country would follow a man who murdered his father for the crown.
"Run, Percy!" she screamed, trying to snap him back to life. "You have to run!"
Zeus had let her go. The cuffs fell off her wrists. She grabbed Percy's shoulders, trying to pull him up, but the big oaf didn't budge. She smacked him, just hard enough to catch his attention, before screaming again. "RUN!"
It was enough, and he struggled to his feet, almost slipping in the pool of blood.
She expected Medusa to fight her, to make her kill herself or Percy, but she continued screaming, acting for the cameras. Luke stood over her, his imperial gold sword drawn, ready to protect his mother. He didn't even try to stop them.
"There's nowhere for you to go!" he shouted, but Annabeth was already running, dragging Percy along behind her. "You are murderers, traitors, and you will face justice!"
His voice, a voice she used to know so well, seemed to chase them through the doors and down the hall. The voices in her head screamed with him. Stupid girl. Foolish girl. Look what your hope has done. And then it was Percy dragging her along, forcing her to keep up. Hot tears of anger and rage and sorrow drowned her eyes, until she couldn't see anything but her hand in his. Where he led, she didn't know. She could only follow.
Feet pounded behind them, the familiar sound of boots. Officers, guards, soldiers, they were all chasing, coming from them.
The floor beneath them steadily changed from the polished wood of back hallways to swirling marble- the banquet hall. Long tables set with fine china blocked the way, but Percy threw them aside with his sword. The table caught on the nearby fire, triggering an alarm system, and water rained down on them, fighting the blaze. It turned to steam, shrouding Percy in raging white cloud. He looked like a ghost, haunted by a life suddenly torn away, and she didn't know how to comfort him. Annabeth watched as Zeus tried to grab her and, watching as another soldier stepped up to shoot, she took a calculated step back. She didn't flinch, not even when the arrow sliced cleanly through her old instructor. Zeus fell down, dead. If she could not use strength, she would use brains.
"Who has the advantage now?" Annabeth spit, turning to follow Percy further, to escape, hopefully. But Annabeth had no hope left.
She watched in horror as Phoebe, the Amazon-servant, the very same one to be there the night Luke joined up, fell to the ground, her neck cut savagely by an officer. Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, hoping deep down in her that if she didn't see it, it wasn't real. What a foolish thought.
The world slowed for her as the far end of the banquet hall darkened with gray uniforms and black guns. There was nowhere for her to run anymore. She had to fight.
"No." Percy's voice was hollow, broken. He lowered his own hands, letting the sword clatter to the ground. "We can't win this."
He was right. They closed in from the many doors and arches, and even the windows crowded with uniforms. Percy searched the faces, his eyes lingering on the soldiers. His own men. By the way they stared back, glaring at him, she knew they had already seen the horror Medusa created. Their loyalties were broken, just like their General. One of them, a captain, trembled at the sight of Percy. To Annabeth's surprise, he kept his gun at his side as he stepped forward.
"Submit to arrest," he said, his hands shaking.
Percy locked eyes with his old friend and nodded. "We submit to arrest, Captain."
Annabeth swallowed down the instinct to run. Next to her, Percy looked just as affected, his eyes reflecting a pain she couldn't even imagine. His wounds were soul-deep.
He had learned his lesson as well.
Annabeth
When Annabeth looked up, she was nose to nose with Percy. Though chained up, his sea green eyes were swirling, hurricanes crashing in his irises. His fury made her swallow thickly. Here, in these prisons, side by side, she allowed her guilt of the events to catch up with her. He didn't even look at her, his shoulders slumped in loss.
Annabeth leaned against the bars in front of her.
"In another life, I might've been jealous." Her head shot up as the door creaked open and Luke stepped in. "Reminds me of that little between you two in that abandoned stone room."
Annabeth's mouth went dry. "How..?" she choked out. Percy looked sick.
"Cameras." Luke smiled, but it was cold, unfamiliar, unnatural.
"Cameras?" How could she not know? She lived in this damn castle!
"Your mother, Athena, pushed extra security when we came here, not that trusting of Percy and I, nor the Raya sisters."
Shit! Annabeth wanted to throw up. Her mother had never told her, of course not, why would she, and now she was standing here, her unfaithfulness displayed for all to see. But after Luke had joined the Amazons, Annabeth, though not completely untied from Percy, had fallen for Luke more than his older brother. She'd fallen for his kind words, understanding personality, and his want for change. But it had all been fake. Annabeth nearly dropped to her knees in disbelief.
"I-"
Luke held up his hand. "Save it, Princess," he spat, his baby blue eyes turned icy cold. Annabeth felt shivers run down her back. "I've always been second to him… and he couldn't handle the fact that I finally had something he didn't- you. But I never really had you, did I?" Annabeth didn't answer, at a loss for words. It was not like she'd had Luke either. "Not that it matters now."
They were silent, until Percy finally spoke up, but it seemed he was talking to himself more than either of them. "Oh, Lukey," he whispered, but the once fond nickname was now said with this fury that Annabeth could relate to. Though she suspected she would never feel the betrayal on the same level Percy had. "Where did I go wrong?" he mumbled.
Luke sneered. "Against your delusional thoughts, brother, you never went wrong, because you didn't shape me at all. It was all Mother. I am, in no way, your creation."
"But you are hers," Percy shook his head. "You wouldn't do this. Not by yourself. She manipulated you, twisting you through the years. She tortured you to help you forget Iris. She ruined you. And now here we are."
This was news to Annabeth, but she kept quiet.
"And what about you?" Luke turned to her. "Any last words."
Annabeth shook her head. "Just go."
He smirked. "Still angry you got played, huh?" And fury burned in Annabeth's core. She was done being quiet.
"I thought you were better than him!" Annabeth screamed and it felt so good to admit. Luke blanched, if only for a moment, as if he couldn't comprehend her words. Better than him. Better than Percy. Next to her, Percy fell silent, his gaze averted to the ground.
"I loved you," she said, and it felt like some dark truth she'd admitted. Shame coursed through her veins. Shame that she was so easily tricked, shame that she had been so naive, shame that he had gotten the best of her- of her- she who prided herself to rely only on her brain, never her heart. Unfortunately for her, her heart only seemed to rule her more with each passing minute.
"And for my love, I'll die," she choked, her hands going slack around the bars. Die. It was such an ugly word for a life of riches and glory. But she was a royal no longer.
"I won't let you die," said Luke, and Annabeth was reminded of his earlier promise, a false promise that had shattered everything in her when she'd realized his lies. This time his words did not bring her comfort, only fueling her anger. It was not yet quenched and she feared it never would be.
"Your brother loved you too," she accused, ignoring the scowl on his face at the mention of Percy. But now she was on a roll and there was no stopping her when she was in her element. "And your father, your father loved you too!" She was shouting and her voice was hoarse, but it made her feel strong to yell, so she did. His scar twisted as his face went ugly, filled to the brim with rage and bitterness. "He loved you and you were too blind to see it! And so you killed him!" Tears of betrayal and frustration pricked at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, to permit Luke this victory. She would not cry, not in front of him.
"You lie," he hissed, his tone cold and calculating as always. But she watched as he struggled to contain his anger, as she goaded him with her words.
"I do not," Annabeth spit at his feet and Luke stepped back, disgusted.
"I'll save you," he said again. "You can be my Queen."
Annabeth smiled then, but it didn't feel like her at all. "I'd rather perish."
His face remained impassive, but she watched as his eyes lit up. "So you choose him, then, in the end?" He jerked his head towards Percy, who had lost all scorn, who was looking at his brother like he was a stranger. Like he didn't know him at all. Perhaps he didn't.
Annabeth didn't look at Percy, not yet. If she saw his face, she would crumble to dust right then and there. Instead, she thought about Percy, she thought about his kind words, but his reluctance to support the Amazons, thought about his love of his birthright- the crown. "I choose no one," Annabeth declared and though it burned, nothing had ever felt more right. Even Luke could not mask his momentary surprise.
"I see," he replied, cool once again. "Then please, Lady Chase, let the games begin."
Games? She sneered. "Just get it over with." She thought of her noose, of her execution. Perhaps her head, too, would be chopped off, mounted on Luke's wall for all to see.
"Oh, no," and he smiled, a smile that made her blood freeze. "Your death will not be quick," he promised, and with that, he glanced at Percy and left.
Annabeth thought of Malcolm, then, her brother who was sure to be killed if he did not escape. As soon as Luke left, the tears caught up with her, reminded of Nico and all of those she'd left behind. They would die too, for her crimes, and her foolishness, and her greed.
She ignored the people who needed her and latched onto people who didn't. She dove into every other world except her own just because she wanted something more glamorous than her real life. She did destructive shit so a stupid hypocritical boy would like her.
She fell for Princes instead of using her brain.
Fuck.
"Do you think they'll kill my brother?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotions, long after Luke had left. She was sure Percy could hear her crying, but he didn't say anything. In these moments, there really was nothing left to say. Percy shifted against the bars to lean against her back, providing her warmth and comfort even through the cool metal. She was grateful as she sniffled, trying to pull herself together.
"I think Luke has bigger things to worry about," he whispered, but said nothing else.
Tomorrow morning they would die, and if there was only one thing she could say to Percy before their death, it was an apology.
"Percy?" He didn't say anything, but she knew he was listening. He always did. She had thought she was using them both, Luke and Percy. What a fool she'd been. "I'm sorry." They were two puny words. Two words that did not make up for her betrayal and her lies, for the loss of Bianca, or for the loss of his father. But they were a start.
He sighed and she felt the vibrations against her skin, comforting in the cold dark of their adjacent cells. "Me too."
Many things had led to this day, for all of them. A forgotten son, a naive Princess, a strategic mother, a brother with a long shadow. Together, they wrote a tragedy.
In the stories, the old fairy tales, a hero comes. But all her heroes were gone or dead. No one was coming for her.
A/N: Hey guyssss. I'll be back from vacation in like 9 hours so I decided to post now with hotel wifi instead lol. I went to South Dakota and Wyoming (*cue cheering from people in those states, if I even have any readers from there lol*). Yay Mount Rushmore! And Devil's Tower, Yellowstone, Badlands, Wind Cave, and all that good stuff. I wrote during travel though to get this out in time, so I'm sure there's quite a few mistakes (typing in a moving car is not optimal lol), so please accept my apologies. (Also, totally off-topic but my family kept interrogating me on what I was writing. The whole. Freaking. Time. Super awk. Not about to disclose my FF stories lmao. Like my sister has read PJO and loves it too, and reads all sorts of FF on many sites including this one [I think she even read one of mine once without knowing it was mine O.O scary af] but like I'm not about to share these cringy Percabeth censored-ish lemon scenes and shit and be like lOoK mOm I wRoTe ThIs *hides face* omfg)
Also, FINALLY. Okay, for all those who are familiar with Red Queen: We finally finished the first book. And now, my OWN plot begins. I've been waiting for this for a while and I'm sorry, really, that it took so long to get to my own ideas. But this has provided an excellent base for what's to come. Until next time~
Fangirl xx
Guest: I'm glad you like the Red Queen parallels :)
adomaniccatnerd: I'm so glad you're excited! Thank you for the vote of confidence haha, and yes, writing that letter was all types of fun. It'll eventually tie back into the story, and I'm excited for that.
Percabethshipper: I agree that Percy's kind and all types of adorable, but we've hardly gotten to know him yet in this FF. I understand your POV, and I can see why Percy may seem kind of villainous right now, but please exercise a bit more patience; I've always liked to develop my characters much more slowly than your typical FF. Besides, we haven't even heard from his POV yet, so whatever we know about him is only through the perspectives of the other characters. Thank you for reading!
Camper19: Um… yes. Lol, I've read and then purchased everything released by Rick Riordan, including Kane Chronicles, Magnus Chase, Trials of Apollo, etc. Please refer to my review response above: "we've hardly gotten to know him yet in this FF. I understand your POV, and I can see why Percy may seem kind of villainous right now, but please exercise a bit more patience; I've always liked to develop my characters much more slowly than your typical FF. Besides, we haven't even heard from his POV yet, so whatever we know about him is only through the perspectives of the other characters." In all honesty, we really don't know what he does and doesn't support because he hasn't come outright and said anything. But I appreciate the review nonetheless, and thanks for reading :)
Guest: I wouldn't say he's like Luke at all, really. We've hardly gotten to understand any of the other characters besides Annabeth, because we've mainly only been told this story through her perspective. And yes, Percy doing torture. We don't know if he wanted to or not, all we know is that he's the eldest Prince of House Calbourne and he did as his father instructed. Please refer to the two review responses above this; I think you'll find it enlightening. Yes, I felt that Bianca's demise really adds something to the story, and I'm glad you liked that mini twist. Thank you for reviewing!
Rememberthedead: Wow… that's… that's a lot of compliments. Thank you very much! To address your requests, for Frazel, I actually did look into it before starting the story. Same with Leo. I'm not really sure how I'd weave in those characters. I have an inkling for Calypso, so I might be able to squeeze Leo in, but I really don't want to promise anything, just to let you down. It's important to keep in mind that Uncle Rick wrote multiple books to develop these characters, and I only have this one FF. For the Charles x Silena thing, you probably won't see them much, given that they aren't caught up in all this business, off in other countries doing other things, but I plan for them to show up once or twice before the FF ends. And finally, for Percy, I think there's a lot more character development to go with him, so I truly believe that you will see the softer side of our PJO protagonist.
Vanilla: I feel like most people in all these fandoms are nerds anyways haha. I'd say I'm a general nerd, but history is definitely one of my biggest areas of interest. I'm a huge politics girl so it kinda all goes hand in hand :P Like I said in my A/N, one of the places I went to was Mount Rushmore, so I'm really feeling this American history vibe rn XD. Favorite Hamilton song? That's like asking me to pick a child lol. Well, I think my favorite changes every four or five days haha, but rn it's probably… Hurricane or Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down). What about you? :)