A/N: Sooo we're finally getting a bit of Percy's POV in this chapter, but nothing too revealing of course. What's the fun if we know all about him this quickly? ;)
Disclaimer: All rights remain.
Annabeth
"If I can break this cell open, can you sneak us out?"
"I don't know," he emptily murmured. Annabeth frowned; Percy seemed to have given up on all hope and it was honestly scaring her. How could he give up so easily? Because he has nothing left, a dark corner in her mind reminded her. He had lost everything, really, and King Poseidon was dead. Because of her. A stab of guilt passed through her because in life, there really were no take backs. What had happened was over, and there was nothing she could do about it now.
"Besides," his voice was hoarse. "Why would you even want to help me?" he smiled, but there was no humor in it. It was terrifying, so unlike his usual demeanor. She had done this to him; she was the cause of this whole mess. Of course he fucking hated her. Annabeth bit her lip. "I'm just a thing for you to use."
Annabeth's body grew cold. She couldn't bear to hear anymore. "Look," she began, and she licked her lips in concentration, "we can either rot together in front of all the kingdoms as Luke's little show, or we can get the hell out of here."
"And then what?" Percy whispered, his eyes vacant. There used to be so much life in them before she put them out. "No kingdom will want a murderer for King, or," he looked her over once, "for Queen. If that's what you were after. Though I highly doubt the Amazons would like that." He said it with no malice, but Annabeth knew he was hurting. He was fucking hurting and it was all her fault. She squeezed her eyes shut.
"You told me once that you didn't care for the monarchy too much," Annabeth murmured. Percy's face darkened, clearly upset that she would bring personal words he had told her when they had been alone and trusting of one another into such a bleak conversation. "You told me you wanted to explore the ocean," her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. "That you wanted to be a marine biologist or something along those lines."
"It hardly matters what I wanted," he mumbled. "I learned that when I was really young. My Queen would be picked for me, my life would be picked for me, my path was never really mine. But you don't want to sympathize with a royal asshole," he smirked mirthlessly at his play on words. "So I won't bother you any longer."
"Percy!" she snapped, short with him. "Listen to me," she begged, and she reached through to his cell, shaking him something fierce. He glared at her. "Please," she pleaded, and against his will (or so she suspected), something in his expression softened. "I don't want any rulers."
"I know," he acknowledged, not pushing her touch away, but still tense under her contact. She looked at him pointedly.
"You're right," he relented. "I grew to love the crown, but to me, it was always my father's." His voice took on a more sorrowful edge at the mention of his father. "And I suppose, in some ways, it will always be his. No matter what the people say, no matter what they say, it will be his."
Annabeth swallowed. "They'll still follow you, no matter what," she tried to comfort him, but she knew it was a lie. Percy blinked; he knew it was a lie too.
"No, Annabeth. He killed his father for the throne. He just couldn't wait. That is what they will say. No matter what really happened. Because people believe what they want to believe. You should know that by now," he shook his head, as if he was disappointed. Perhaps he was. He had been on track as the youngest General to lead a war, he had made so many friends, his soldiers had been his brothers, and now he was all alone.
"My mom didn't come from much," Percy spoke up, his voice soft as he broke their tense silence. "She wasn't a royal. She taught me better. And I still get it wrong sometimes, Annabeth believe me, I know," he stared at her in the eyes and Annabeth couldn't help but think that he had the most beautiful eyes in the world. "And when she died," he clenched his jaws, looking like a kicked puppy. "She never really left me, you know? So I'm still trying. I know a crown isn't worth as much as the royals want it to. I will not play their games for a throne, especially not a throne forged of blood. That isn't me." He seemed nervous, as if he'd never admitted this out loud. Annabeth imagined he hadn't. The commoners would kill him for rejecting a crown, call him a spoiled, privileged brat. And his father and step-mother would never understand. He blinked up at her with big, sea-green eyes.
"I'll help you," he whispered, and it felt like a promise, but Annabeth didn't trust promises anymore. Not after Luke. "I'll help get you out of here. You can escape across the border, get to Canada. You'll love it there, I know you will. Their democracy was built for people like you."
Annabeth didn't bother to address all that was wrong in that statement, not before finding out what his plan was. "But what about you?" She'd betrayed him and here he was, offering to set her free and cut her loose of all ties. Her expression crumbled with concern.
Percy's face was solemn. "I have nothing to live for, Annabeth. I have my uncle, but even Chiron, he'll be okay. My father's dead, my mother's long dead, and my brother-"he hesitated "-he might as well be dead." His mouth pressed into a thin line. "Look, I admit. I don't know how your mother and father's relationships are with you. I don't know your family dynamic, but believe me, I know just how messed up it can be." Annabeth inhaled a sharp breath. Her father and her had a poor bond but Athena and her really did love each other, though their love was certainly unorthodox. Frederick and her was just plain cold. "But you have Malcolm. And he really fucking loves you, Annabeth. He's a good brother, the brother I wished I could've been for…" he closed his eyes. "Never mind. You need to get out. Luke will kill off so many royals. You've got to get out and save him. You mean everything to him. And I owe him, for much more than you'll ever know." Annabeth couldn't possibly imagine what that meant. "So I'll get you out of here."
Annabeth stared at the ground. "Percy, no."
"No?"
"No," and she cupped his face in her hands. His breath hitched; this was too intimate for them both. But she could hardly move away now that she was holding him. "My entire life is here, here in the USA. It's my fate to stick with the Amazons and bring democracy here. It's what I want. But I'll protect you," she vowed, choking over her words. "I'll set you free and I'll protect you."
Percy paused. "We'll protect each other and we'll both be free," he amended.
"So… democracy?"
He chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Democracy," he concluded, nodding a little. "Now," he backed away from the bars. "Let's get the hell out of here." Annabeth squeezed his hand in hers, relying on his strength to help her keep hers.
Annabeth
"Sir," Annabeth whimpered, feigning fear. Well, feigning this kind of fear; she would be lying if she said she wasn't afraid at all. "May I please have some water?" she requested her and Percy's guard, acting like a pathetic prisoner. She slipped to the ground, hanging her head low. Percy was sitting on the opposite corner of his cell, pretending to ignore her, but he was indeed carefully watching her movements like a hawk, appreciating her acting and manipulation skills.
The guard glared at her. "You already asked for a blanket. Should I call Crown Prince Luke down here, tell him of your ridiculousness? Tell him to conjure up a special punishment for you? He's quite creative, I assure you," he growled at the 'ditzy' blonde.
"Please, sir," she pleaded, licking her lips like she was extremely parched. The guard muttered a few unkind words, and minutes later, he'd fetched a cup of water for her. Annabeth's eyes gleamed mischievously, but she kept her head down, silently thanking him for the water. She sipped it slowly, biding her time with the plan. And then she dropped the glass close to the exit of her cell.
Glass shards flew everywhere, lodging itself in the guard's palm. He hissed out in pain. "You dumb bitch!" he screeched, howling in pain.
"I'm so sorry!" she stood up, only causing more of a commotion. Percy stood up too, arguing with the second guard and stirring up more chaos. "I didn't mean it! Please, please have mercy on me!" Percy was spitting some nonsense a couple feet left of her. "I'm sorry!" she swiftly kicked a shard to Percy's foot. She subtly picked up one of her own while trying to console the injured guard. Pulling the shard out before the guard could compose himself, she threw it hard and far. The sharp edge sunk into the guard's eyes, and as he collapsed, Annabeth quickly twirled his keys out of his pockets. Her fingers were skinny and slight, slick as she stole her way to freedom. Hastily, she unlocked her own cell just as Percy stabbed the other guard with his own glass shard in the neck. The second guard toppled over onto the first, his a clean cut running alongside his neck.
Annabeth sneakily freed Percy, and the dark-haired young man scooped up their weapons, tossed in the corner where the guards had previously been standing. Not sparing a moment to even marvel her own outsmarting skills, Annabeth allowed Percy to drag her behind him as the pair snuck up the staircase, making their way out of the cellar. And so began their escape.
…
Annabeth stalked down the hallway, Percy by her side. She led the way this time, even if Percy had better reflexes and a keener sense of hearing. It was almost like he felt the enemy before he even saw them. So when he suddenly grabbed her arm, jerking her backwards, Annabeth let him cover her mouth to keep her from freaking out.
"I already saw you," the feminine voice said, turning the corner. "The Princess' blonde hair is a dead giveaway, you know." Annabeth quietly cursed and Percy cautiously peeked out of their hiding spot: a tiny alcove they'd hastily ducked into. Annabeth stayed hidden, but Percy's shoulders seemed to relax, so whoever it was, they couldn't have been much of a threat to their escape.
"And I'm going to help you," she said, walking towards Percy. Annabeth padded softly out of the alcove and peered at the girl across from them. She was a bit younger than Annabeth with chocolate brown locks of luscious hair and eyes that seemed to change color so often that the blonde had never truly figured out what color they were supposed to be.
"Piper?" Annabeth couldn't mask her surprise. The third Raya daughter had always seemed quieter than her older sisters, keeping to herself. But that didn't mean Annabeth trusted her anymore than she trusted the other Princesses of House Raya.
"Why would you help us escape?" Percy narrowed his eyes at her, but Piper didn't flinch.
"Let's just say I owe your bodyguard a favor," she looked at Annabeth. Annabeth shifted her weight onto her other foot, clearly uncomfortable by the young woman's scrutinizing gaze. Piper looked at people so fiercely that Annabeth irrationally feared she could see her very soul. Her very twisted soul. "Besides, I don't give a shit what the cameras say." Annabeth's lips parted in surprise at the younger Princess' language. "You didn't kill him by your own free will," Piper nodded at Percy. He stiffened at the mention of his passed father. "I could see it on your face. And nobody could convince me otherwise."
Raya children were always good at recognizing emotions, Annabeth knew, but how Piper could pick out tiny details like that out of a low-quality video of murder, she didn't know. "So I'll help you go," Piper offered, bowing her head to the Princess and Prince. "And then I will also leave. Or Luke will kill me," she grinned, almost like she knew something Annabeth didn't. The blonde was unsettled but intrigued.
"This way," Piper gestured, and spun on her heels to walk down the dark corridor.
Annabeth shared a look with Percy, who shrugged. The blonde pursed her lips and then followed after the other royal child. After all, what other choice did they have?
Piper lead them to the exit they'd been trying to get out of at first, but Annabeth spotted the nearby guard before the brunette could lead Percy and her to their deaths.
"There's a guard!" she hissed, pointing to the heavily armed man, dressed head to toe in silver. She narrowed her eyes at Piper, suspicious of her promises towards the both of them. Never fucking trust a Raya.
"I know," Piper assured her, leaving Annabeth puzzled. "While I talk, you run. And don't come back, not for anything. Or they'll kill you," her orbs turned a dark, mesmerizing green. It was haunting. Annabeth quickly nodded. The daughter of Aphrodite walked up to the guard, a young man, and began to shamelessly flirt. Annabeth was astounded; she had never tried to use her looks for anything, but Piper was so comfortable with herself, her words, and her body. Annabeth almost envied the younger girl, but when Percy tugged on her hand, she remembered where she was and her place.
Together, they snuck around the last of security, bounding across the castle ground. A couple guards spotted her, despite Piper's generous donation of two dark cloaks for camouflage and sturdier, training shoes for Annabeth. Shouts filled the air and by now, Luke surely knew she was gone. She imagined he wasn't too pleased for his big brother and his betrothed to be on the run, and together. If they could just reach the deep, dark forest, they could find their way.
The castle speakers boomed with his voice, a cruel, cold voice, one she no longer recognized. It blasted down on her, chilling her to the very bone:
"You can run, little Annie, but you can't hide. And when I find you…" he trailed off. The exiled Princess could practically imagine his cold smile and shivers ran down her spine. "…we'll have so much to discuss."
Percy pulled her close to him as they plunged into the damp dark of the unknown.
Piper
Piper slipped back into the castle without anyone looking. She glanced out the large, cool castle windows. Percy and Annabeth were long gone and she could only pray that they had gotten out unharmed. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to help them. Piper could had just turned the other way and pretended she'd never seen them, but without her help, she was fairly sure they would have gotten caught. Though they had chosen the best route to escape (she figured Annabeth had picked, knowing the castle the best out of the pair), there was still one guard blocking that exit. If it weren't for her shameless flirting, she supposed they'd be locked up once again, only to die quicker and more painfully than before.
But there was just something about her, about Annabeth that was so interesting to her. She knew Annabeth was part of the Amazons now; the entire fucking country knew. But the fire in Annabeth's eyes, it drew her in, and now, Piper had made up her mind. She had to leave the castle, yes of course. She would die here, Luke would kill her without a moment of hesitation. She was of no use to him and those who were useless were the first to die. She shuddered.
But now she had a new purpose. Annabeth's strength had inspired her and if they'd let her, if she could keep her courage, Piper, too, planned to join the Amazons. But she could not leave without warning those who deserved a warning, without telling those who would most likely heed her warnings and leave. She could not leave before sparing a few innocent lives.
She turned the corner, her gaze falling to the impassive, familiar face that she'd passed so many times without another thought. Well, that wasn't entirely true, but she wasn't going to dwell upon. Especially not now. Not with so many other things to worry about.
"Sir," the brunette politely addressed him, but he didn't look up, not even when they were the only two people in the corridor. Of course, he seemed to be hurrying somewhere, no doubt fulfilling his duty to serve the kingdom and with Percy and Annabeth deemed traitors and on the run, he was probably following orders. Piper didn't really care. "Jason Grace!" she demanded, raising her voice. She imagined Aphrodite would have narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips in distaste at her youngest daughter's actions, but Aphrodite was off with the other royals grieving the loss of King Poseidon, no doubt.
The guard turned around, stunned to be called by name. And by of all people, a young lady of high rank. Piper sized him up carefully, only confirming her decision. He arched a perfectly groomed brown eyebrow in surprise at her outburst.
"Where is Malcolm?" Piper didn't bother with pleasantries. "And Nico?" she inquired.
Jason, seemingly forcing himself out of his shock, collected himself. "I believe Crown Prince Chase is in the library, ma'am. And Crown Prince di Angelo has either decided to accompany him, or he is still in the presence of his superiors, Princess."
Piper frowned, displeased by the answer, most notably his overly-polite terms for her. Ma'am? Was he joking? Piper felt like she had aged ten years overnight. "Very well then. Come with me." Inspired by Annabeth's spunk, she grabbed a shell-shocked Jason's hand in hers, and practically dragged him after her. His cheeks were flushed, probably embarrassed by the physical contact. Her heart was doing backflips inside despite herself. Maybe the idiot wasn't as oblivious as she'd previously come to the conclusion. Hope swirled deep down at the bottom of her chest.
"Where are we going?" Jason asked after a moment, warily following the headstrong Princess.
She didn't answer, bursting into the library instead. "You," she pointed a hand at Malcolm, who was pale and glaring at the books in front of him. They were Annabeth's records- Piper recognized them well. A pang of sympathy momentarily flashed through her, but she pushed down the emotions when she remembered why she was here.
Me? Malcolm mouthed, eyes wide and rimmed red like he had been crying or something.
"You're coming with me as well," Piper decided, and Malcolm didn't jump to his feet like she'd hoped. He wasn't as willing as Jason, it seemed.
"Why?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Because if not, you'll die," she quipped.
Malcolm blinked slowly, and he warily rose to his feet. "I'm listening," his voice was gruff.
"But first," Piper kept her wits about her. "We must locate Crown Prince Nico," she ordered both the young men. It was strange, and definitely a first to be the one calling all the shots. She couldn't deny that it was somewhat satisfying. Perhaps this is what the stubborn blonde had longed for on the royal council.
"He's with the Kings and Queens," Malcolm repeated Jason's earlier sentiment and cleared his throat, hiding any evidence of his earlier surfacing emotions. Piper pretended not to notice, as did Jason, allowing him to collect himself.
Piper frowned. "A minor inconvenience," she spoke out loud, assuring herself more than her companions. She headed out the door, holding her head up high like she'd seen Princes do on so many occasions, and she was pleased to discover it felt oddly natural. She contemplated her quickly-forming plan as she flounced down the cool corridor. Both Jason and Malcolm had always been rule-followers, the brunette was well aware. However, she was starting to think that the whole rule thing was a bit overrated. There was this unfamiliar excitement inside of her. That she was breaking the norm, that she was questioning the status quo. For once she didn't have to look behind her to know Malcolm and Jason were right on her tail, obedient and docile.
…
"No," the olive-skinned boy spat angrily. "Absolutely fucking not." He had gotten paler since Bianca's demise, but it was such a small change so far that Piper suspected he didn't expect anyone else to notice. But Piper always noticed such things; it was just the way she was. An unexpected surge of sympathy tugged at her heartstrings, but she remained stoic, understanding that she could not sit around pitying the youngest Crown Prince if she was to convince him to be compliant.
"But Nico," Piper sighed in resignation, flitting her eyes around the room in exhaustion. "Luke will kill you. Don't be a fool. Do not cave to his sweet-spoken lies," she bit out. She had explained all she knew of Percy and Annabeth, trusting the boys' loyalties enough to spill the beans. She had offered to take them with her in her escape, to take them with her to the Amazons, or to wherever they wanted on her way to her definite destination. Jason had agreed quickly, claiming he had nothing left for him here, that Annabeth was his best friend and wherever she went, so did he. And his need for his sister, to understand, but he hadn't said much about her. He hadn't confessed his anger at Luke either, but Piper could spot it, clear as day. Piper understood; she was angry also. Angry at everyone, at the world, at Luke, at so many fucking things she would need more than two hands and two feet to count on. Her fury fueled her passion.
Malcolm stared at his feet, not quite meeting the eye of the youngest boy. Piper imagined that every time he saw Nico, he saw Bianca's shadow behind the soon-to-be King. Annabeth's brother had not agreed either, much to her surprise. She had forseen Nico's resistance, but not Malcolm's nor Jason's. Annabeth meant everything to them.
Nico flinched. "I don't give a fuck," he growled, this hatred burning off him in a way Piper had not seen before. Malcolm was quiet.
"Bianca would not want this for you," Piper whispered after a silence, and it was her turn to flinch this time at Nico's murderous gaze.
"Do not speak of her! You didn't know her, and you don't fucking know what she would have wanted!" Nico barked. There was a fire in his eyes that Piper had not seen from him before. It was worrisome. She was quiet for a moment, allowing him to bask in his fury; it did nobody any good to bottle up those emotions.
"You're right," she dipped her head in acknowledgement. "I'm sorry," she rectified her earlier claims. "But Nico, she's dead now." Piper's voice was soft, understanding, almost like she was trying to comfort a terrified animal. "You're alive. And I know it hurts, but you can't live like the dead just because she's gone."
Nico squeezed his eyes shut, dimming the fire. His shoulders hunched over as if her words physically pained him to hear. He shook his head no again. "I said no," he whispered, all raspy.
"This castle will crumble anyways," Piper murmured, and somehow, they didn't think she meant the building.
"Then I shall fall with it," Nico looked her in the eye, and Piper wanted to duck out of his field of vision; he was not one to often make eye contact. It was unsettling, to say the least. "I despite those ridiculous Amazons. It was their plan, their bullets, their bomb that killed Bianca. And as much as I respect you," he glanced at Malcolm, "I must admit, I don't really care for your sister anymore. Not after she was part of the plan that killed my sister," he said, sharply. Malcolm didn't respond, graciously and silently accepting the younger boy's opinion. "For Bianca," Nico choked over his passed sister's name. "I'll stay in this damned castle and help the royals win. May you have success in your plans to thwart the royals, and may the best side win." He backed away from Piper, Jason, and Malcolm, drawing his lines clearly.
It was a lost cause, the stubborn Crown Prince refused to waver to the other side. Piper respected his wishes, and also stepped back to stand at Jason's side. "Will you stop us from escaping, then?" she queried.
Nico slowly shook his head. "I will turn a blind eye to your vanishment," he promised quietly. Perhaps he wasn't an entirely lost cause.
"Okay," the brunette breathed. "You're sure?" Nico nodded in response, and she turned to Malcolm instead. "Annabeth's on the run. I have no doubt she'll seek out the Amazons, but I don't really know where Percy stands on this scale. We'll find your sister again, and if you come with us, maybe you can reconcile with her," she suggested. She couldn't help the excitement building in her chest; maybe she was finally going to have her own adventure.
Malcolm chewed his bottom lip, contemplating her offer. "No," he said finally, surprising the Princess. She had expected some resistance from Nico, but none from the Crown Prince of Epresh. Everyone knew him and his baby sister were awfully close, especially considering they were royals for fuck's sake. "I wish to serve the royal court with my mother, Queen Athena, and father, King Frederick. It's always been my place and my destiny. And if my parents had decided to side with Prince Luke, then I suppose I side with the younger Prince as well." He didn't sound sure; him and Percy had had a mutual understanding, Piper knew. This choosing must have hurt like hell. "I'll pray for her though, I'll pray that you find her," he whispered under his breath, quiet enough that the brunette suspected she was the only one to hear it. He still loved his sister, she figured, but he would not able to do much beside the Amazons. His place was beside his father, another proud figure of Epresh.
Piper sighed, irrationally disappointed in his decision. "Okay. Crown Prince Malcolm, and Crown Prince Nico," she dipped low to the ground, bowing, though she was not supposed to, though she was their same rank. "Be safe," she whispered, surprising Nico, and even Malcolm. They turned their cheeks, pretending to not notice as the ex-Princess dragged Annabeth's old bodyguard behind her and slipped out of the castle into the dark of the night. She had one opportunity, this one chance, and she would not blow it.
Climbing on a majestic white stallion just like she had always dreamed of in her fantasy adventures, Piper chased the dawn, Jason hot on her trail on a brown beauty of his own. The sun was warm on her face and the orange glow cast a beautiful light on her cape, flowing in the breeze behind her. It felt like a new beginning, one she had been only too eager for.
A new dawn, a new day, a new girl.
Annabeth
Annabeth tugged at her dark cloak, tangled in the tree branches and thick of the forest. Ball gowns were not made for threading through nature.
She cursed under her breath, pulling harder. She heard some of the fabric tear, splitting before her, but she could not find it in her to care. Why did it matter, if her cape was torn to shreds, if she tumbled off a cliff to her tragic death? She had already lost everything anyways. Well… almost everything. Malcolm was still there in the castle, as far as she knew, and the Amazons would be waiting for her. She had to make to them, she just had to.
"Stop struggling," Percy sighed, reaching out to help her. He was dirty, with mud streaked across his face and red scratches painted across his arms. He carefully freed her, unhooking the caught cloth without worsening the damage.
"Thanks," she muttered, trudging along in front of him. She knew the way to the Amazons, she did, but it was so much harder to find them going through these woods. But if they walked into town… they'd be killed on sight, murdered for 'murdering.' And Annabeth refused to let that happen. Percy was on edge, she knew, she could tell. He didn't like following her directions and depending on her knowledge, he didn't trust her. Well, not anymore.
Annabeth wiped some mud off her face, and tugged a loose twig out of her long, curly hair. She was tired, she was hungry, she was dirty, and-
"Don't be alarmed," Percy whispered, and his hand flew to the hilt of his sword. "But I think we have an audience." He didn't trust her, no, with good reason, but they had this mutual understanding that if they were going to survive, they were going to have to work together.
Annabeth held her breath, listening carefully, but she didn't hear anything. But there was this paranoid part of her, this piece that felt like something was watching them.
And then she saw it.
A dart of black through the bushes. They were standing in a clearing, they were wide open and exhausted. She was in a blue dress that might as well screamed 'I'm over here, kill me!' And she was carrying a flaming torch to lead the way for both of them. The Amazonian, ex-Princess swallowed hard. This couldn't be the end; they had come so far. And the stream should've been around here somewhere, somewhere they could get some clean water and maybe wash off their grime. No, she wasn't ready.
She pointed wildly to the green, but the figure had slipped out of her sight. Percy's eyes scanned their surroundings like a hawk, taking in every detail of their surroundings in one sweep, just like he was trained to do.
"I think it's over here somewhere," she murmured, taking a step towards the thick. "I just saw it, it was standing right here. It was dark and it..." Annabeth trailed off, her eyes widening in horror.
Towering in front of them was a beast, dark in the night. It had multiple heads and with a quick count, Annabeth deducted that there were nine. A putrid smell radiated from the creature, a poisonous substance that made Annabeth feel a little woozy. It had dark, tough skin, and beady black eyes that made her blood run cold. She had seen something like this before, but only ever in stories. They weren't real, they were myths, they were Greek myths. She was probably hallucinating from lack of nutrients, she needed to get help. She couldn't be here, face to face with a fucking Hydra. Annabeth was ninety-nine percent sure she was losing it.
"Don't. Move." Percy's hushed tone sent shivers down her spine. The Hydra was face to face with the blonde and she was trembling down to her toes, but Percy was right, though she doubted he'd studied myths, though she doubted he knew he was right in the first place. Hydras had poor vision, but a keen sense of hearing. If they could be absolutely silent, then maybe they could slip away.
Percy unsheathed his sword as softly as possible, and she wanted to warn him to stop moving, to just stop. She hadn't even drawn her dagger, but she was too afraid to talk, too afraid that the Hydra would hear her.
The sword scraped against the cover and all nine of the Hydra's heads snapped to face the pair.
"Can I panic now?" Annabeth backed up into Percy, drawing her own dagger. The Hydra knew they were there, it was going to kill her. No point in subtlety now.
"I don't suppose it matters. We're already dead," Percy muttered, and the Hydra unleashed, diving for the Prince.
Percy rolled, scattering to somewhere on her left as she dove to the right. The Hydra's middle head crashed into the ground where they'd been standing just a moment before. It crushed a fallen tree trunk as if it was flimsy plastic. She winced, standing on her feet and narrowing her eyes at the monster in front of him. A million thoughts ran through her mind as she desperately tried to recall all she knew of the Greek monster.
But before she could say anything, the Prince swung.
"Percy, no!" she cried out, cringing as his sword cleanly sliced through the head. He seemed bewildered by her outburst.
"It's a Lernaean hydra," she revealed, curling into his side as he blocked another head's dive. "From Greek mythology. Every time you cut off a head," she glanced up at the monster, pursing her lips in distaste as the severed limb began to split. "It grows two new ones," she whispered.
"The heads spit acid," she rattled off the details, and as if on cue, the hydra roared, spitting acid. Percy shoved her aside, his reflexes quick and precise. "And the blood is poisonous. If we can collect the blood somehow, it'll be useful in the future."
Percy looked at her like she was crazy. "How the fuck do you know all this?" He dodged another strike, frowning as the two new heads properly formed.
"I read!" Annabeth ducked, the Hydra's rightmost head snapping its jaws mere inches above her.
"I thought these weren't real! I thought it was a myth!" Percy stabbed the hydra in the middle, avoiding cutting off the heads, and therefore only inflicting little damage.
Annabeth was pale like a ghost. "I thought so too!" She slashed at the hydra as it struck the tree next to her. She was pressed back into the tree and kicked, hard, with her shoe, annoying the head, but not doing much damage.
"So how do we win?" He was asking her, him of all people, for battle instructions. Annabeth blinked, her adrenaline on fire and her heart pounding out of her chest.
She struggled to remember her lessons with Chiron, but as Percy tired, fighting the majority of the heads for her, she realized she was going to have to come up with something, and quick.
"The 12 labors of Hercules!" Annabeth screamed over the commotion. Percy was listening, she could tell. She stabbed another head in the neck, slipping down the tree and landing neatly on her feet like a stealthy cat. "Watch out!" The hydra lunged at Percy's back, eight of the now ten heads surrounding him. She threw her dagger, and the hydra hissed, backing away if only for a moment. Annabeth jumped, pulling the dagger out of the monster, and rolled to the side. The hem of her dress liquified in a pool of the acid.
"Hercules!" Percy reminded her, fighting like a demon.
"Right! In the second labor, he battled a hydra. And to stop the regeneration of the heads, he cauterized the wounds." Her brain worked efficiently, taking in their inventory. "Percy, I have an idea!" He glanced over at her. "Cut off the heads!"
"Are you insane, Chase?!" Perseus blanched. If she messed up, they could have 20 heads to deal with. 20 heads and a dead pair of royals.
"Just do it!" she snapped, running to him like she was being chased. And she was. She skid under the serpent-like tail and turned on the other side of Percy. Just as she'd requested, he cleanly sliced off a head. It fell to the ground with a disgusting squelch.
She kicked off the severed head, launching herself into the sky. And then she was free falling. Annabeth waved her arms wildly, trying to grab onto something, and then she was on the godforsaken hydra. She could vaguely hear Percy screaming at her in the background, the fear evident in his voice, fear for her, but she could do this, she had to. Tugging her torch towards the limb, she quickly held the fire to the neck, effectively cauterizing the wound and preventing the sprouting two heads.
"Is it working?" she yelped as she momentarily lost her balance, clutching onto the hydra and trying not to fall off. She hardly had time to watch and see if the heads would grow.
He didn't answer, chopping off another instead. She took that as a good sign. Together, they worked as a team, eliminating all ten heads as rapidly as possible. But she couldn't get out of her own head. This was… this was wrong. How could they live in a world with Greek monsters from the old myths? How could she never know? How had nobody ever seen them before? What was this, magic? Annabeth was a realist and she believed in science. This could not be real. Maybe she was dreaming, maybe it was all just some nasty nightmare. As she pondered upon these monsters, she began to lose focus. There were only two heads left, what was the worst that could happen?
The acid-spitting hydra desperately tried to shake her off, only one head left at this point. She slipped, losing her balance for good. Annabeth crashed to the forest floor, and the hydra, sourcing her as the weak link, breathed over her, the acidic breath singeing away the hair on her arms. Her dagger had fallen somewhere else; she could see it sparkling in the moonlight on the other side of the clearing. The hydra went to bite her shoulder and Annabeth was frozen, petrified. It was always scary to look death in the face and accept your fate.
Her eyes fluttered shut, bracing herself for the blow, when Percy jumped in front of her, sacrificing himself for her. The poisonous fangs sunk into the small of his back, tearing off a piece of his flesh. Percy blacked out instantly, the pain too much to handle, just as he sliced off the last head. Annabeth dry-heaved, his blood pooling underneath him. Annabeth quickly cauterized the last head, defeating the hydra, but she didn't even care about that anymore. She fell at Percy's side, her cheeks flushed pink and sweat beaded on her forehead. Her dagger was back in her belt, coated in the poisonous blood.
Percy was bleeding a lot, she knew that much. She tried to recall all she knew about medicine, but she couldn't stop panicking, which really wasn't helping either of them. She looked around them for help; she was no doctor, but surely she could use their resources and spare his life. That's when it hit her: Percy could die. It was an unwelcome, cold thought. He'd been impaled from taking the blow for her, and he was depending on her now. She would not let him die, she couldn't afford to. Her large grey eyes darted to a stream trickling behind them, just past the clear. If there was a stream, there was sure to be civilization. Civilization equaled medicine, equaled saving Percy- and she would do anything. She mildly wondered if this was why he had panicked so much when she'd been bleeding all over the place in the ballroom so long ago. It took something from him to see him pale, and knocked out, his crimson blood staining her image of him.
Annabeth scrambled to her feet, covering Percy in leaves before searching for help.
"Stay put," she whispered, and then she immediately felt stupid because of fucking course he wouldn't move, he had blacked out. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she reprimanded herself, clutching her dagger close to her side as she treaded cautiously towards the sound of flowing water. She trailed the bank of the stream, and she immediately spotted a figure dressed in plain clothes, hunched over the water with a thin fishing line.
He seemed to be thirty-something, with longish salt-and-pepper hair, and he wore a brown jacket over a black T-shirt. He reminded Annabeth of a television actor, and he was quite good-looking, better to look at than the idiotic, dishonest royals. For Percy, she told herself, walking up to the fishing man. If this really went south, she could always bolt, dragging Percy after her. Though she supposed he was heavy.
"Hello, sir," she dipped low to the ground, curtsying elegantly despite her shredded dress. "If you please-" she paused, seeing the awe-stricken look on his face. "Sir?"
"You're- Princess Annabeth, my Lady, please forgive my lack of manners," he bowed low and Annabeth immediately felt bad. She'd never liked that she had to allow the bowing. It made her feel like every other royal; she really didn't know how else to put it. She still remembered being four or five and an old man had gotten on his knees to bow before her. He had been feeble, weak, and nobody batted an eyelash at his actions. It was wrong in so many ways that she couldn't even begin to explain. But Athena wasn't here to tell her to keep still, she didn't have an image to preserve, she was a 'terrorist.' Annabeth frowned.
"You needn't bow to me, good Sir," she assured him, and he just smiled in return. Perhaps this wouldn't turn to shit after all. "I am no longer considered royal, as I'm sure you know," she murmured, nodding at him in acknowledgement.
"With all due respect Princess, my wife and I don't believe what Queen Medusa and her son are saying. You've been the golden apple of this kingdom for so long, you've done so much for everyone. My daughter, she's always looked up to you. I know you are on the run, and I would like to serve you however it may please you. For all you have given, I wish to return the favor, though I suppose I will never pay it all back," the man offered kindly.
Annabeth was stunned. She'd never thought of herself as the favorite of anything. The favorite of the kingdom? But… why? She spoke out of turn, she had a tendency to indulge in outbursts, she wasn't what a royal was supposed to be like at all. But Annabeth was not foolish. He had offered assistance and Percy was dying. The word stabbed her in the heart: dying. Such an ugly word for such a kind-hearted boy.
"My friend…"
"The Prince?"
Annabeth wondered if he could see just how fucking scared she was. "Prince Perseus of House Calbourne, Sir. I understand if you do not appreciate him, he is Calbourne after all, and it has been engraved in our minds since we were young to hate them, but he is a dear friend of mine and he has been severely injured in a battle during our escape," she said it quickly, all in one breath. Friend didn't seem like the way to describe him, they were more than that, and yet, they were less. But she could not find a word to describe how she felt, so she kept her conflicting thoughts to herself. "And," she licked her lips thoughtfully, the existence of the hydra still bothered her. Annabeth looked over the man once more; he seemed genuine enough, and though she couldn't quite trust him yet, she was willing to vouch for him, just this once. "If you don't mind terribly, answer a few questions for me? Today's events have… perturbed me."
The man blinked, and the corners of his mouth lifted up in amusement. "My wife and I have never hated the Calbournes, not like the King and Queen of Epresh, Princess. I think you will find that we are not quite like the others," he gently disclosed. "In fact, my wife has always been very fond of the eldest Prince of Calbourne." Well, that was a relief. Odd, nonetheless, but it made the weight of the burdens on her shoulder feel just a bit lighter. And it was one less thing to worry about. "I used to be a teacher," he nodded. "I love questions," and he grinned wide. In the five minutes Annabeth had interacted with this stranger, she already felt closer to him than her own father figure. The thought was depressing.
"Wonderful, thank you so much," she recognized his generosity. "If you please, I concealed the Prince in the forest for fear of his safety. I'm not sure I can haul him here on my own," she admitted, biting her lip nervously.
"I'm sure we can shoulder his weight between the both of us, Princess," the man responded, standing up and brushing off his slacks.
"Annabeth," she corrected. "Like I said, Princess no longer."
"To us, you will always be the true Princess of Epresh."
"The way I see it, it hard matters now, Sir," Annabeth mentioned as they walked back to where Percy was.
"How's that?" he let her set the pace, for which she was grateful. She'd had to be strong for Percy, but now that things had slowed down, her exhaustion had begun to catch up with her.
"I've joined the Amazons, Sir. As the kingdom knows by now, I'm sure. I've publicly announced that I don't support the monarchy. And the Prince, after some persuasion, has come to the same conclusion. I'm not sure what he'd prefer you call him, but I go by my given name now," she clarified, sorting out her thoughts as she went.
"That's certainly one way to look at it. But if it makes you more comfortable, Annabeth. I go by Paul. Paul Blofis, ma'am."
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Paul." She smiled for what felt like the first time in eternity. The smile slipped off her face real quick as she peeled the leaves off the Calbourne Prince, exposing his bloody figure to the commoner. Percy had a bit of blood under his hairline as well, which she had not seen earlier.
"He's very pale," Paul noted in concern.
"Indeed," Annabeth gravely whispered. She struggled with his body until Paul took some of the weight, easing her difficulty. Shuffling awkwardly, they carried him back to Paul's humble abode. It was a small house, nothing extravagant, but cozy, and it felt like it fit the definition of 'home' a lot more than her drafty castle. Paul promised to look after Percy and instead, he hastily ushered her into the shower to wash the grime and exhaustion off. He even gave her some of his wife's old clothes, sizing her up with eyes carefully. He figured they'd fit Annabeth better now than his wife. Annabeth appreciated the gesture and putting her face in her hands, she let the scalding water rain over her in the private peace of the bathroom. It was a safe haven, somewhere she could be alone with her thoughts. She curled up in the cream tub and sighed softly. The water was just a notch under painfully scalding, just how she liked it.
But no matter how hard she scrubbed, even once his red was gone from her tan skin, she could still feel Percy's blood on her hands, alongside Bianca's and King Poseidon. Some things, she supposed, were not meant to be forgotten.
Percy
When he finally came to, Percy thought he was losing his mind. There was a damp washcloth on his forehead and most importantly, he was in the presence of an angel. Or so he thought. She smelled like fresh lemons and she was in a plain grey surcoat, and there were curly golden ringlets cascading down her shoulders and back. He blinked. Or maybe that was Annabeth. He squinted carefully, and this time his face felt hot with embarrassment. Yep, that was definitely the Princess.
The second thing Percy noticed was that he was completely indecent, and that was ridiculously embarrassing. He squirmed under the sheets, painfully aware that he only in his boxers. Fuck. And the Princess was smirking at him.
"You drool when you sleep." She grinned. Percy was glad the Princess had retained her interesting sense of humor.
The tips of his ears turned bright red. "I do not," he replied, as dignified as he could. That was hard to manage, of course, when he was half naked and hiding under the blanket. She tilted her head at him, mirth dancing in her steel eyes.
"Sure," she teased, but even she could not successfully conceal her worry. For what, he didn't know. Besides, Percy had bigger problems. A terrifying thought struck him as he struggled into a seating position.
His mouth fell open and his eyes widened in horror. "Did you undress me?"
At least Annabeth had the decency to turn pink in the cheeks. "Of course not!"
Percy clutched his chest, damn near about to have a heartache. He shut his eyes in relief. "Oh thank god."
"It was Paul's wife while I was showering. I didn't meet her though," she explained.
"Paul? His wife?" Percy frowned. "Wait-" he examined their surroundings, the small bed, the open window letting the cool evening air into the bedroom. "What happened?" he winced, his back on fire as he shifted in the bed. There was a long bandage across his chest, one he hadn't noticed till just now.
"You woke up a couple times before," Annabeth frowned, her forehead crinkling in concern. "You seriously don't remember? I mean… you did pass out afterwards, but…"
He shook his head no, matching her frown.
"I even fed you some medicinal thing Paul gave me."
That explained the lasting taste in his mouth. It tasted strangely familiar, like he'd ate it before. But that made no sense, he'd never even been here before, and it seemed very unique.
"We were fighting the hydra. Do you remember that?"
Percy's blood froze now. So it hadn't been a nightmare, a strange one at that. "So that was real?" his face was grim.
Annabeth pressed her lips together tight. "Yes."
"But hydras aren't real," he pointed out, scared of what her answer would be.
"I know," she whispered, staring down at her hands in her lap.
"Annabeth?" he needed her reassurance, now more than ever before.
"I don't know, Percy. I haven't figured it out yet," she mumbled. Percy swallowed hard.
"Okay," he whispered in return. "And Paul? These bandages?"
"Paul Blofis and his wife… like I said, I didn't see her. I don't know her name, I'm afraid. But seeing how carefully she bandaged you, I'm sure she's wonderful. You were badly injured," Annabeth explained, her expression stoic, but her tone soft. She cared, but she didn't want to. Percy saw right through her little façade. Unfortunately, it was a feeling he was only all too familiar with. "You… um… you took a blow for me, and the hydra pierced you through the small of your back. And because it's poisonous, you blacked out."
Percy frowned. "I'm sorry," he apologized. He'd left the Princess to fend for herself.
"Don't be," she assured him. "We'd killed almost all of it before that. And as for Paul, I went searching for help. I didn't know how to treat your wound."
"Princess Annabeth not knowing something? That's a first," he muttered.
She glared at him, but the corner of her mouth curled up, and so he grinned, pleased to make her laugh. "Shut up," said Annabeth darkly.
"Yes, ma'am," he acquiesced, still teasing. But she didn't seem to mind all too much.
"As I was saying," cue menacing, frosty glare, "As I was seeking refuge, I stumbled across Paul. He was fishing nearby and he was kind enough to help me with you."
"Why would they help us?" Percy inquired, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Who would help an exiled Prince and Princess? They were nothing.
Annabeth was just as on edge. "That's what I thought." But before she could say another word, Percy's heart stopped as another figure entered the room. Another, rather familiar, woman. He remembered the blue cookies, he remembered the band aids, the blue candy, and the hair ruffles. He remembered it all, and it was too much.
Annabeth
All of a sudden, Paul's wife walked in, and with Percy in the same room as her, Annabeth saw it before Percy could even utter a single word. Percy looked like he'd seen a ghost. Because he had. Because she was supposed to be dead. On her hip was a small girl, hardly two years old if Annabeth had to guess, but Annabeth still couldn't tear her eyes from the woman in front of them. If she thought Percy had looked just like Poseidon, the spitting image of the King, he looked a lot his mother too. His smile was all Sally and the crinkle around the corners of his eyes, and his steady, gentle touch.
His eyes were blown wide like doors, and vulnerable. For a second, she could almost spot the little boy he had been before shifting into his father's weapon, something for Poseidon to wield at his will. As much as Annabeth felt like an intruder, stuck in a private moment, she couldn't force herself to look away, to blink, even if only for a moment. Percy's hand was trembling by his side and she wanted to shake him, slap him, do something, anything, for him to go back to normal. This wasn't the Percy she knew. This moment, it was uncomfortable, and she knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Annabeth inhaled a sharp breath, disbelieving of what she was seeing. This was too much.
She hadn't seen Paul's wife before, otherwise the Princess surely would have recognized her from King Poseidon's paintings. And all of a sudden, it made so much sense why they didn't mind her being here, or Percy, for that matter. Why they had no grudges against House Calbourne despite living in Epresh's forestry.
Her suspicions were only confirmed when Percy finally spoke. His voice was small and she could practically see him splitting at the seams, cracking into a million shards.
"Mom?"
Annabeth
Percy was disbelieving, and shocked, and his eyes flitted to the little girl on Sally Jackson's hip. She didn't resemble Poseidon at all, rather Paul, and Annabeth came to the conclusion that she was not royal at all, but rather, she was Paul's daughter.
The Prince pointed to her with a shaky finger. Annabeth was, for a moment, worried he was about to have a breakdown. To find out your mother's been alive this entire time, presumably remarried, and had a brand new daughter? Annabeth knew she would've. But Percy, surprisingly, seemed to be keeping it together for the most part. "Who's that?" he whispered, his hand trembling.
"Estelle Blofis," the old Queen introduced her daughter, but Percy had no reaction. Well, except… Percy put his face in his hands and for a scary second, Annabeth thought he was crying. She would not judge him if she did. In fact, she rather felt like crying for him. Percy did not fall for Estelle's favor immediately, and Annabeth could only assume that it was because he didn't know Paul or Estelle at all, that they were pure strangers. And they were. He'd grown up his entire life thinking he was alone, he'd just had his father, who was now dead, and his half-brother, who turned out to be a backstabbing psychopath. Honestly, Annabeth wasn't a big fan of her family dynamic either, apart from her wonderful big brother, but she wasn't complaining. After all, they definitely weren't winning the most-fucked-up award anytime soon. She imagined Percy remembered Sally though, and well. The Queen had died when she was about two, and though she couldn't remember the funeral well, she recalled lots and lots of blue flowers. Percy had been about three then, if she had been two. He would have grieved the same all the adults, too young to have lost his mother, and too old to forget. Annabeth's heart went out for him.
"You're supposed to be dead."
Annabeth wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say, but that certainly wasn't it. Sally Jackson, however, seemed unfazed.
"Estelle's about one and a half now," was all she said in response. Percy didn't look up from where he'd hidden his face in his hands and in all honesty, the Princess didn't blame him.
"Why didn't you bring me with you?" Percy looked up now, and his eyes were rimmed red. Annabeth's chest constricted painfully at his pain. Annabeth had begun to think that he had no sadness, nor remorse, no emotions, none at all. How wrong she had been.
"Percy," Sally whispered, and it was so sympathetic, and remorseful. Annabeth felt like an intruder, in this family reunion she wasn't sure Percy wanted.
"No," he held up a hand, and shut his eyes.
"I didn't forget you, Perce. I would never. I celebrated your birthday every year," she reported mournfully.
Percy's eyes screwed shut tighter. "No, mom. My father's dead, and my brother… I just- I really don't fucking need this right now." Annabeth didn't miss how he'd choked on the term for his mother. Percy glanced at Estelle, almost remorseful for cussing in front of a child. "I just- I need some space," he breathed, and looked at the sheets covering him.
"Sally, there's another report from the castle. The Statue of Liberty is under water, caving in and bombed," Paul walked into the room, growing quiet as he sensed the tension. War had officially begun. Percy set his jaw and stared at the open door behind Paul. Perhaps Paul was his tipping point.
"If you'll all excuse me, I'd like to get dressed," he was distanced in the way he talked. Annabeth felt that familiar guilt swimming back, threatening to choke her.
"You're leaving?" Sally asked, and her voice was small. Estelle had begun to whine for food and Paul excused himself, taking their daughter with them. Annabeth looked at Percy, but he did not return her gaze, not this time. His playful side was gone, replaced by the cold, indifferent Prince he was supposed to be. But she knew better, she had seen the passionate side, the beautiful side, and she knew, just like herself, he was not comfortable with his vulnerable side.
"I'm not sure yet," he grit out between his teeth. He hadn't really stopped crying through all of this, she'd noticed. But Percy was a quiet crier and he didn't seem to lose his resolve despite the tears.
Sally flinched at his response. "I'll give you your privacy then," and she left the pair of them alone.
Annabeth was not fooled by his tears; Percy was really fucking close to losing it and he was seriously angry. She didn't blame him. "I'll let you change," she whispered, standing up.
"Annabeth?"
He sounded so small. She bit her lip. "Yes?"
"Thank you."
He didn't have to say for what, she already knew. Nodding politely, she ducked out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her.
…
"You didn't come for supper," the blonde noted and sat on the steps of the cottage outside, quietly taking her place next to Percy. He hadn't bothered to shower yet, his tears long gone and replaced by this seemingly emotionless, still filthy, battered war hero.
"Mhmm," he grunted.
"Not hungry?"
"Mm." He stared out into the night.
"Are you going to continue to give me one-to-two syllable, garbled answers?"
"Mhm."
"Smartass."
This time he cracked a weak smile, but it lacked his usual charm. It was emptier than she was used to. "Did you like dinner?" he asked, and she figured it was to make polite conversation.
"Sally's a wonderful cook," Annabeth responded politely.
"She always was," he murmured, lost in thought.
"I'm sorry that I didn't warn you before," she apologized. "I didn't know she was his wife."
"That makes two of us."
"Are you okay?" Annabeth asked, and then immediately regretted it. He was on the verge of a mental breakdown and here she was, speeding up the process. Idiot.
"Are you?" he threw the question back in her face. She knew what he was referring to.
"The hydra didn't get me," she shook her head. "Speaking of which, how are you feeling?"
"I've had it worse."
"I'm sure you have, but that's not what I asked," she looked at him pointedly. He sighed.
"Did you figure it out?"
"I asked about the hydra as subtlety as possible," Annabeth admitted. "Neither Sally nor Paul had an inkling of what I was talking about. I imagine they thought I was off my rocker, delusional with exhaustion."
"Are you?" he joked, but it was softer now.
"Do you think I am?"
"I've always thought you were a bit delusional," he replied cheekily, and Annabeth shoved him hard. He smiled at the ground, but it seemed as if it pained him. His lower lip was busted after that battle.
"But seriously, Percy. Nobody knows what I'm talking about. Nobody's seen these monsters. So why can we?"
Percy's muscles tensed, but he just shrugged. "Maybe we made it up in our heads. Maybe it never happened it all."
"Percy, you're living proof that it happened," she pointed out.
"Point well made as ever, Miss Chase."
"So what do you think?" she was eager for his take on this whole craziness. Perhaps he knew more than he was letting on, though she highly doubted he would withhold information from her at this point.
He shrugged again. "I haven't really given it much thought. Been a bit preoccupied," Percy told her.
Annabeth frowned. "So what have you been thinking about? You've been out here an awful long time."
"The Amazons, the war, my father, my existence," he smiled all crooked; like his typical lopsided grin, only it was so much different now. "You."
"Me?" Annabeth couldn't hide her surprise. "What about me?"
Now he looked at her for the first time in a while. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then shut it and shook his head. "Did you figure out how far we are from the Amazon base?"
"You still want to go there?"
"Democracy, Annabeth. I thought that's what you wanted. Have you forgotten so quickly?" he was scornful and a bit mean, but given the time of day, his injuries, this recent shocking news, and the fact that he'd fucking saved her life, Annabeth decided to let it slide.
"I thought you'd want something else now."
"I'm not running back to Sally, if that's what you're thinking." Annabeth kept her mouth shut, because yes, that was exactly what she'd been thinking. "I've chosen my cause, and I think it's about time you remember yours," he sighed. He couldn't even be mean anymore. Too tired to build up his typical coping mechanism. The blonde could relate.
"Maybe you should hear your mother out. She had some interesting things to say during dinner."
Percy glared at the blades of grass in front of him as if they were the cause of all his problems. If only it were that simple. "I don't want to talk about her anymore," he said, so Annabeth dropped it.
"Are we leaving tomorrow morning, then?" Annabeth inquired. In all honesty, she was kind of afraid to. What if they ran into more monsters that nobody else could see? It made her feel so crazy, crazier than usual.
"Yes."
"Then you should probably shower. You smell of dried blood." She wrinkled her nose.
"Thanks, that's what I was going for. Eau de blood of my enemies."
"Excellent. I'm sure all the ladies will love it." Two could play at his little sassy game.
"Does that include you?" he was a cheeky little bastard.
"I'm more of a wet dog kind of girl," said Annabeth, equally as sarcastic.
"Ah, damn. I'm all out of soaked Golden Retriever."
She bit the inside of her cheek, but failed to hide her shy grin. "I prefer wet German Shepherd, actually."
Percy smiled down at his hands, failing to conceal his amusement as well.
Annabeth tucked her legs under her, keeping her distance from the dark of the night. She wasn't sure if Percy was even tired, but before she could ask, she leaned back against the stairs and drifted off under the gleaming stars.
A/N: Sooo Annabeth and Percy can see monsters that are supposed to be myths? And Sally's alive? BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, my boy Percy's over here agreeing to democracy! Can I just say, character developmentttttt. This is for all of y'all that were losing your minds over Percy's seemingly cold personality in the reviews last chapter. Tbf, I did say to be patient XD (It's cool~ I love y'all anyways) Until next time~
Fangirl xx
JustAFan: Wow, I'm flattered, really. :) Lol yep; Red Queen book readers will probably be able to guess a couple more things that happen later in the story, but fortunately, nobody will know what will happen with my plot twists ;) Thank you for not spoiling it for non-book readers!
Oh my gods: Well, I'm glad you liked that, because that's in no way, shape, or form the last messed up thing that's going to happen XD Far from it, actually. I WANT MORE OF NICO TOO! In fact, I'm hoping to add him next chapter if I can fit it in. Yessss, time for those guilty homosexual feelings in an unaccepting society. Will it be angsty as hell? Fuck yeah! I can't say anything about deaths because spoilers, duh, haha, but Malcolm's not even on my death list yet, so I wouldn't be too worried yet. And I agree; he should've played a more prominent part in the books! Enjoy your vacation!
Vanilla: Well, for my last story, I planned almost the entire thing before even starting the story. For this story, I've been admittedly a bit lazier :P, so I didn't plan it down to the mini details (though I probably will as more and more ideas come to me), but I have a loose plotline to base it off, and a document full of a bunch of random scenes I want to include in the story. Not to worry if you have a vague idea instead of a detailed plotline! Average Canadian (AKA one of my fav FF authors ever lol) has stated in the past that they pretty much never plan out their stories, choosing to go with the flow instead. But then Cassandra Clare, one of my favorite formal authors (like R. Riordan, V. Aveyard, etc), has stated that she plans it down to the very detail like me. There's really no right or wrong way to approach story-telling; it all depends what makes you feel most in control of your story!
So far, not much is too different, just a lot of extra scenes between all the characters, and of course, Bianca's death- that kind of thing never happened in the books. Plus the whole with Malcolm choosing sides and stuff is all my own because there's no character in the original series for me to base Malcolm off of. Also, Percy and Annabeth are progressing a bit differently in this story, seeing as Annabeth is an actual princess, and in the books, Mare isn't. Plus I want their personalities to be more true to the canon PJO/HoO books rather than Victoria Aveyard's characters. As for what will be different, well, let's just say the plot will get kind of dark/magical. Honestly, I was so inspired to write this story because I'd been reading a lot of Red Queen FF, which led me to reread the series. I had been wanting to do a Percabeth Royal AU for some time, but Victoria Aveyard's work made me finally go through with it.
Crazypetlovergur: Thank you!
Team Aurora: Idk why but that me laugh XD Thanks for reading!
Vanilla: OK BUT SAME. Maven kills me eVERYTIME. (Out of sheer curiosity, who is your favorite charrie from the Red Queen series?) Oo ok I'm glad you liked it then. I also have a sister, but I'm not as close with her. But yes, dramatic queens unite XD (that makes two of us lol :P). Aw c'mon, don't be self-deprecating. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is, but thank you nonetheless. A writer's worst critic is always their own. Trust me; whenever I read anything written by me, including all my FF work, it never quite compares to my favorite authors' works. And it's terribly cringy XP.
Oooh, Non-Stop, hell yes! The medley at the end is beautiful. Exactly! I always have a hard time picking a favorite book.
I'm planning to study law and become a lawyer, actually. :) (Becoming a Supreme Court Justice for me is akin to a young child's outlandish dreams of becoming a faerie princess, a pirate, [or hell, a demigod ;)]; unattainable, but still nice to think about haha~) What about you? Any aspirations for the future?
Don't apologize for a long review! Those are my absolute favorite, and if anything, I should apologize for this longass response. I bet I'm really pissing off the other readers by shooting up the word count XP
Vanilla: It's all good, homeslice, I'm a bit of a blabber myself :) Thank you very much! And I'm replying to this at 2:40am anyways lol, so you're not alone. Also, even though I'm not from New York, I have a couple friends from there, therefore I have a vague idea what Regent Exams are about. So, even though this is late, I hope you did well! And next time, even though I'm the least qualified person to preach about sleep (XD), maybe get some sleep ahead of time; I promise you, my story isn't going anywhere, and it's certainly not worth staying up for (though I'm flattered :P).
Guest: Thanks, homie! I was seriously stressing this story wasn't living up to anything else I'd written, and sometimes a little encouragement is all need.