A/N: PSAT memes are my reason for existence.
So I finished Tyrant's Tomb a couple days after it came out, but I totally forgot to address it till now. I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea how to feel about it yet: I'm just letting it sink in and sulking in that depressive state after sad parts of the book, but I like hearing from y'all, so PM me about it if you want.
Just please don't say anything in the reviews; I like my comments section to be canon spoiler-free out of respect for everyone reading, thanks. :P
Disclaimer: All rights remain. Also, I'd like to finally address this: because most of my readers are older, like 17-20 just based off the PMs I get (even though I'm a youngster lol), I don't usually say anything, but unlike my usual sex scenes (like Solangelo and Drecily's sex scenes), where I just hint at things and make innuendos, in this chapter I feel like I described a scene in more detail. It's still not explicit obvi, but if you are easily uncomfortable by that sort of thing and happen to be a rare young reader of mine, in the first Percy POV, skip the second to last ellipses scene.
Annabeth
"Find Percy," Piper instructed on her right. "And get me a healer too. She needs first aid."
Annabeth hadn't even realized she'd been injured in her escape. One of Luke's guards must have nicked her without her noticing.
Or, the more terrifying prospect, the Queen had cut her while being dragged around, but no. The Princess took a deep breath. Medusa was dead, for sure. Countries were grieving her successful assasination, it had been heavily televised, all strategically planned by the Princess herself. She had impaled her twice. There was no use feeding her imagination when it was impossible.
Annabeth was dimly aware of some girl wrapping her forearm in a cloth bandage and expertly applying pressure.
"She lost a whole lot of blood," someone on her left said matter-of-factly.
Piper cursed. "Will she be okay? I didn't notice and she didn't say anything. I— I didn't know."
"Don't worry about it. She'll be fine," said the healer.
"Are you sure? She looks a little woozy."
Annabeth blankly stared out the window as they fussed over her.
"Shit, you're right."
"Where the fuck is Percy? What about Jason?" the brunette demanded. Her voice was fading slowly and steadily. "She could use some emotional support. Look at her. She's so pale!" Annabeth's ears were ringing, and she was nauseous.
"Piper, please. Calm down. Your panic won't help her," said Jason. Or at least, it sounded like Jason.
"Don't you think I fucking know that? Seriously, y— oh my god!"
Annabeth felt the bright lights slip away as it all promptly went black.
…
When she awoke, she came face to face with sea green, a sight for sore eyes.
Annabeth blinked away her exhaustion, though it remained down to her very bones. She struggled to sit up, but she felt him help her steady herself.
"Percy," she acknowledged, her voice wavering. She squinted at the bright lights. "How long was I out?" She couldn't even remember passing out, or why she had. Honestly the last thing she remembered was getting off the plane after landing in the Amazon base.
"Probably about five minutes, so you're fine. Just a bit too much blood loss."
Annabeth glanced at her arm, bandaged both from the gash and from where they had given her more blood. She let out a puff of relief. "Okay—okay, good," she added shakily.
Percy's face scrunched up. "You look like you're about to throw up."
"Thanks."
He smirked. "At least you haven't lost your sense of humor entirely. I can tell Piper you're fine."
"Of course I am."
"So cocky," he commented.
"I try," she agreed, shrugging slightly.
Percy pursed his lips. "Okay, now that you've put up a wonderful facade and feel secure in your emotional state, want to tell me what the fuck happened to you?"
Annabeth blinked. Lord, that boy could see through her any time of day. "I like Jason better."
"Too bad. He's consoling your friend who was slightly hysterical after you passed out. I'm pretty sure she thought you died."
A stab of guilt shot through Annabeth. Poor Piper. She'd talk to her later, apologize too, maybe. Thank her. Piper was a lifesaver, and loyal to her very end.
"And now that you're out of excuses, I'd start talking," Percy added.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "What if I don't want to?"
"You looked like you'd seen a ghost. I think you kind of have to," he reasoned. She was acutely aware that his hand was entwined in hers, almost as if subconsciously. She didn't have the heart to point it out, silently relishing his warmth and the comfort he provided. Not that she could ever admit that out loud.
Annabeth bit her lip, nervous.
Percy's expression softened, a face she liked to think he reserved only for her. "I'm not going to tell anyone anything," he promised.
"Are you angry?" She danced around the topic of his brother and the effect Luke had on her.
"That you murdered my step-mother in cold blood?" he queried. She winced; it sounded much worse when he posed it like that. "Not really," he shrugged. "She was always a manipulative bitch and she killed my father, so she had that going for her." His tone was light, but his expression was cold, full of repressed anger and bitterness.
Annabeth shook her head. "No. Are you angry that I robbed you of the chance to kill her yourself?" she amended.
"Oh. No," Percy reassured her, squeezing her hand tightly. "As long as she's gone." And then, "I hope it hurt." He pressed his lips together and Annabeth was taken aback by his violence.
"Daggers through the heart usually do. Especially when stabbed again."
"Mhm," was all he said. He was growing distant, but snapped his gaze back to her. She wished he wouldn't. She wasn't prepared for what came next.
"I saw him," she finally admitted the truth. She didn't have to specify who he was. There was only ever one him.
"I figured."
"Really?" Annabeth raised an eyebrow.
"I've never seen you so traumatized," he whispered, truthful. "Not when you had a dead body collapsed over you, not when you stabbed Medusa— I saw the broadcasts, not ever. There was only one person who could be responsible for that state of mind."
"Oh," she murmured, dumbfounded.
They sat in silence for some time.
"I really, really wanted to kill him," said Annabeth to no one in particular.
Percy didn't look at her. "I know."
"No, Percy." She tilted his chin up with her index finger. Percy looked at her, uncertain. He seemed so small, like her. "He's killed people in my name."
He frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?"
Hesitating, Annabeth pulled her numb hand away from him, reaching into her pocket. She brought out a crumpled piece of parchment, stained red with blood. She'd swiped a couple off the table when Malcolm hadn't been looking. "He's a murderer." She discreetly pressed it into his hand.
Percy pulled away, unfolding it and scanning it carefully. His jaw tensed as he read. Those notes were so intimate, in the manner in which Luke signed it every time, and so horrifying, seeing as he'd killed for her.
There was a lump in her throat as she watched the emotions pass over Percy's face, and then he looked blankly up at her, handing the note back.
"I know," he acknowledged, his voice thick. "I'm sorry he wrote you that."
Annabeth wasn't sure what possessed her to do it, but suddenly she found herself withholding information. She didn't tell him that there were more, hundreds, a thousand perhaps in the Ashington Castle, and that more probably arrived each day. She didn't tell him they were all signed the same way, didn't tell him that he was mass murdering for her, not just committing one homicide, didn't tell him that Luke said he'd stop murdering if she just came back.
"Me too," she said instead.
"Annabeth?" he sounded small again. She looked at him. "What did… what did he look like to you?" he asked, not meeting her eyes. He stared indifferently out the window, but she knew he cared.
As much as she'd loved Luke, Percy had loved him first. Luke was his little brother, despite it all. To lose a father, to think he'd lost a mother, to lose a cruel step-mother, and now to lose a brother, it probably got to him much more than he let on.
"He didn't seem like the Luke I remembered," she retold honestly. It was cruel to give hope where none should've been. "Medusa definitely did this to him," she began, and then explained the mind-control, much to Percy's disguised horrification. "But this was all him when I was there. His mother was dead, Perce. He had nobody micro-controlling him, no one to whisper sweet promises in his ear, no one to tell him to be cruel. It's in his nature now. There's no going back." She felt like she couldn't breathe.
Percy didn't look much better. "Then it's settled. He's gone. There's no cure for this," he told her.
"Percy, I killed people." Annabeth blinked, and didn't even realize she was tearing up until Percy brushed a stray tear away from her eyelashes. Thankfully, no more tears rolled down besides that one.
He twirled her golden coils in his finger soothingly. "I know." But he didn't know. He didn't know that every time Luke ended someone's life, it was because of his obsession over her, it was because of her. She couldn't breathe.
"Deep breaths, Chase," Percy coached, breathing with her. She slowly calmed down. As if he could feel her need for reassurance, he broke the silence. "I miss him too, you know. Sometimes."
Oh. It was such a relief, like a burden had been lifted off her.
"I wanted to kill him," she repeated. "But I also…" she trailed off, confessing without ever really confessing. Percy would know what she meant. He felt the same, surely.
"Me too." He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, and after coaxing him into the infirmary bed by her side, they watched the clouds pass by, and the birds chirp, and the squirrels scurry up trees. Percy told her about why he was all bandaged up with a cast, and Thalia, and the arena as it began to rain.
She quietly contemplated if it was raining back in Thasite, too.
Piper
"Piper McLean." The Queen's formed her name, just her name and nothing more, but it was enough to send shivers down her back. "Today you join our sisterhood," she paused, glancing to the Canadians, "and our brothers," she permitted, "on a journey of a lifetime, a revolution that will be remembered for centuries to come. You have proven yourself to our cause and your valiant nature by doing what others could not. I hope you can give to us as we will give to you in time."
Piper had yet to fully come to terms with the fact that she'd assassinated a goddamn Queen. Her disruption in all things royal was spreading like wildfire in both the Amazon bases and Canada, but also in the royal world. She wondered if Aphrodite was proud of her now.
She could feel everyone's eyes on her, but for once she did not feel small as she might've have long ago, blissfully hidden in the shadow of her sisters. To immerse oneself in oblivion, it was a pleasure she'd forgotten now, but she suspected it was a better thing than not. There was safety on the sidelines, but the game was played on the field.
"We will ascend," Artemis began, and as the Amazons began to echo their promise alongside their leader, she felt irrationally excited to finally recite it with them.
"For gold and glory." Piper could not disguise her grin. She wondered if anyone had smiled in front of the Queen like this before, and though she doubted it, she was honored to be the first. And she was honored for what comes next.
Artemis stood face to face with Piper, a shiny piece of silk in her hands. She held it out and Piper accepted the golden bandana all while holding her breath, despite herself. Around her she could hear the crowd erupting in polite applause and the pounding of tall staffs on cement. Thalia was cheering, shameless as ever, loudly by Reyna's side. Rachel was with her, and Piper wasn't sure who was louder. Hazel hugged her and Frank too. Jason's eyes shined with pride and as she walked past him, he whispered a "congratulations" in her ear, tickling her cheek. She bit her smile to keep her smile smothered.
Annabeth was sitting next to Percy, and though Piper could visibly see that she was exhausted, Annabeth patted the spot next to her, inviting the brunette to sit with her. Percy's head was buried in a stack of papers, so the Raya didn't say anything to him. Piper slid on the bench next to her. The Queen was saying something in the background, but she was fully invested in the blonde now.
"Are you okay?" Piper found herself whispering. There were dark circles under Annabeth's eyes and she couldn't help but theorize what plagued her friend's nights, turning her sleep restless.
Annabeth, forever a troop, waved her hand dismissively. "I'm proud of you, Pipes," she whispered, squeezing her hand. Piper clutched the bandana tighter in her hand. It meant more than Annabeth even knew.
"Thank you," she permitted, taking Annabeth's hand into her own and focusing on Reyna, who was speaking now. She would interrogate Annabeth of her pain later, when she had healed some.
Percy
"He'll come if she's there."
Percy couldn't recognize the voice. He willed his dream forward, passing through a few corridors until he was in a gloomy room, cracks of light escaping the shielded curtains into the dark room.
A door opened in front of him cracked open, and panic seized him, Percy having the urge to hide. Then he reminded himself that it was only a dream, no one could hear him, could see him, could hurt him. At least not physically.
White light flooded in. Percy concentrated, following a cloaked figure into the blinding room. The walls were a stark white, clean and stainless. In the corner were chains, bound to the ground and opened as if they were claws awaiting a victim, a prisoner.
The ceiling was white too, and the ground. And it was inexplicably cold. The door blended seamlessly in with the room. It was what Percy would've thought a room built entirely of mirrors would feel like, and to be in it was making him a bit dizzy.
"And if he comes," the man began talking again. Percy's blood ran cold. He had a pale face and blue eyes. "We'll give him over to the King. Her, too. And then we'll tell Malcolm that he better drop his threats or the girl gets it. It's foolproof and we're sure to win."
Another man, younger it seemed, with floppy brown hair, twitched in a corner. "This just takes care of the royal wars, sir. What of the Amazons?"
"They will not back down for her safety?" He frowned.
"Of course not. She's just a piece of their plan. They can win without her."
The blue-eyed man stared down the younger one. "Very well. We'll use them as bargaining chips for them to fight on our side as well. A two-part deal."
The brunet grinned. "Clever, sir."
"Come," he said. "Let's examine the other room. I want to make sure everything is in place."
Both men lumbered off into the gloom, and Percy turned toward the corridor. Off in the distance, he could hear screaming. It was feminine and very high-pitched. He winced.
He turned and passed through the door. Inside, the room was identical to the one before, except for one huge contrast. Bound up in the chains was a small girl, probably hardly sixteen, though the wariness in her face and distress made Percy feel that her years had been much longer than others. She had a thin face, and was unhealthily pale. She was dressed entirely in white, like a hospital gown, and she was screaming so loud Satan would wake up.
Percy scanned the surroundings, but saw no immediate threat, and he could not fathom for the life of him why she was freaking out so much. Surely she had been bound for a while (there was dried blood around her wrist and scars, proving that she had been struggling with the restraints for long), so why had she suddenly decided to start screaming?
The room was completely sealed up. It smelled of stale breath and tarnished metal. It didn't seem possible that she could have survived so long without suffocating. Even in a dream, Percy was already starting to feel panicky, struggling to get enough oxygen.
Tears were flowing down her cheeks, and there were dark circles under her eyes. The son of Poseidon cringed. He was about to leave her and explore the other rooms, trying to dig up as much information as possible, but then he noticed something small that made his scalp prickle in fear.
On the inside of her wrist was a miniscule tattoo. It was a black circle with a plus sign in it, the solar symbol for Earth. Then he scanned her face more carefully.
A daughter of Atlas.
Atlas was an old name people didn't talk much of anymore, and there was only one other person he'd known with that tattoo, and that was Zoe, and she was dead, killed in that cage so long ago. Atlas had tried to create a dictatorship many, many years ago, back when Poseidon had been a young boy. He had told Percy about it, a story all future Kings knew about.
He had been punished, pressed to death, and his family had been destroyed, each and every one was killed. Atlas, ever the dictator, had tatted every member of his bloodline including himself, perhaps to prove their unity, or maybe just to seem crazier than he already was. It was then that their nations came to be: Thasite, Epresh, Sumisu, Baca, Jirot, Kreoca, and finally, Canada, who had always been separate, on the western hemisphere. They had originally worked together to destroy Atlas, and since then, they'd grown to resent each other, thus sparking the current wars.
It was said that Atlas had no children, but Zoe had been living proof, and Zoe had joined the Amazons. Turned out she hadn't been an only child. Percy mildly wondered if Zoe had known that.
Atlas' family was fucked up, but that didn't mean his children were. They'd grown up with no influence, only knowledge of their passed father. Despite himself, sympathy edged into his chest. She was clearly tortured by something, and the haunted expression on the girl's face made his heart hurt and his blood boil.
Then he noticed something between her feet—a tattered piece of cloth no bigger than his palm.
A bandana, Pecy realized. A golden bandana. It had been shredded to bits. That meant… she, too, was an Amazon.
"Miss," Percy said, "where is this place? We'll save you…"
The image faded, and someone's voice whispered: "Percy."
At first, Percy thought he was still asleep. When Annabeth had gone on her quest, and even before that, when he had been promised to Drew, and her to his brother, and when he'd been locked up by the Amazons in that dark cell, all alone, he'd spent weeks dreaming about Annabeth, her soothing voice getting him through some rough patches.
He woke up in a cold start, beads of sweat at the edges of his hairline. For a moment he thought it was his little brother. He felt that unfamiliar, old ache in his joints, probably because Thalia had busted him up real well, but also because he used to stifle his complaints and get out of bed to see what Luke wanted.
But then he realized that no, Luke wasn't his Luke anymore, and no, he didn't have to stay up with him and fetch crackers and stay by his bed until his nightmares of someone prying into his mind went away. It wasn't until now that Percy had realized the true meaning behind Luke's childhood nightmares.
Or the fact that the figure in the doorway was blatantly feminine.
As he opened his eyes and his vision cleared, he realized that she was really there. She was standing by his berth, smiling down at him. Her blonde hair fell across her shoulders. Her storm-gray eyes were bright with amusement.
He remembered that time he'd fought the hydra, only to pass out after its defeat months ago, when he'd woken from a daze and found Annabeth standing over him. She had said, you drool when you sleep. She was sentimental that way.
"Wh—what's going on?" he asked. "Am I in trouble?"
"No," she said, her voice low. "It's the middle of the night."
"You mean…" Percy's heart started to race. He realized he was in his pajamas, in bed. He probably had been drooling, or at least making weird noises as he dreamed. No doubt he had a severe case of pillow hair and his breath didn't smell great. "You sneaked into my room?"
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Percy, you've been eighteen for a couple months. You can't seriously be worried about getting into trouble with the Amazons."
"Uh, have you seen their arsenal?"
"Besides, I just thought we could take a walk or something. I want to show you something—I discovered this little place that I think you'll like."
Percy's pulse was still in overdrive, but it wasn't from fear of getting into trouble. "Can I, you know, brush my teeth first?"
"You'd better," Annabeth said. "Because I'm not kissing you until you do. And brush your hair while you're at it."
…
"This is—it's beautiful, Annabeth." His eyes flickered over the crystal water, so clear that he could see the bottom, and it was illuminated blue, sparkling by its own will.
"I haven't quite figured out why it lights up like this, but only when there's enough moonlight. I suspect it has something to do with the ammonia, but I'll have to run more tests," Annabeth explained, perhaps hastily as if she was nervous.
Percy glanced at the water. "Maybe the seaweed does something." He shrugged. It wasn't like he was an expert botanist or anything.
She squinted at him. "Seaweed Brain," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.
He snorted. "Seriously, that's the best you got?" He chuckled, and she glared, but a tiny hint of a smile peeked at the corner of her mouth.
"Don't mock me," she said, indignant. "It's very clever. Your brain is full of seaweed and your family is dedicated to the sea. It makes perfect sense."
He laughed, thinking for a moment. "Very well, Wise Girl."
She wrinkled her nose. "Mine's better."
"Don't care," he retorted, starting to peel off the nicer shirt he'd hastily thrown on over his sleepwear.
"I can't believe you're stripping again."
"Again?" He feigned hurt, smirking to himself. "Are you calling me a whore, madam?"
She bit back a smile. "No, sir," said Annabeth, obediently. "But I do remember you knocking out those guards a while back and changing into their clothes."
"Oh, yes. You'd blushed," he teased, recalling the incident. That had been great fun. Until she'd thrown a shoe at him for accidentally looking too soon. "My face bleeds as does my heart." He was pleased when she laughed.
"I'd expect you to be flushing more right now, Mr. Jackson." She glanced down and he took the opportunity to quickly slip into the water in nothing more than his boxers before she could see. It was dark enough that the water's natural light was beginning to fade and unless she really searched for his underwear, he was thinly concealed. Kind of.
"Hardly," he retorted.
"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Please, enlighten me."
"The way I see it, Ms. Chase, I already know you inside more than you know yourself. To know you outside is a weak reason to flush," he added cockily.
She shook her head. "Don't get that excited. You're under the false impression that I'm getting in."
He treaded the water, though bits of it was shallow enough to stand in. It was cool and refreshing, but not so cold that he was freezing. And besides, Thasite was a land of water and sea and ports and ships. This, to him, was home away from home, the only time he'd been in the base and felt comforted.
"It's not that cold," he assured her, scrunching his face up. "Why would you come all the way here only to dip your toes in?"
"I'd rather not even do that," she admitted.
Percy blinked. "Seriously, Annabeth?" She was quiet and he examined her carefully.
All of a sudden it dawned on him. She'd grown up in Epresh, a land far, far away from water, and purposefully. Though she probably knew how to swim, because Ashingtons knew all, she most likely didn't enjoy it, Calbournes being a major adversary.
His eyebrows pinched together. "You're afraid of the water."
Annabeth glared at him. "Don't be nonsensical. It's irrational to fear water. We are made up of around 55-60 percent of water. To fear water is to fear your own body."
He stared at her, a foreign feeling overtaking him. To him, this was home. It was… depressing to think that to others it was their worst nightmare. His heart ached for her and for all the division between them.
"You know what I mean, Wise Girl." He was beginning to like the nickname, a new term of endearment. It suited her. He outstretched a wet hand, water droplets dripping off and causing folda throughout the water.
She hesitated, and for a moment, she wore her fear on her sleeve. "I really don't want to, Percy," she said, trying to remain cool, but it was clear she was desperate.
"Annabeth," he reasoned, his voice gentle, "I could swim before I could even walk. You're not going to sink with a son of Poseidon right by your side. Besides, your feet will touch the ground on the shallower areas. You're only a bit shorter than me."
She bit her lip, unsure. "You won't let me sink?" she clarified.
"If you sink with me holding you up, you're the unluckiest person in the world. You're going to be okay, I swear," Percy reassured. "Besides, you know how to swim, don't you?"
"I do. It's just… been a while. And I only learned out of necessity, for survival reasons. Never for pleasure." She paused. "Okay," said Annabeth finally. "Okay," she repeated, drawing in a shuddering breath.
He reached out further with his fingertips. She sat by the water's edge and peered in, meeting his gaze with uncertainty.
"I promise," he said fiercely, locking his fingers with hers and squeezing. This would be good for her, he just knew it.
Meticulous as ever, Annabeth began to undress, pulling her dark armor over her head and stacking it neatly on the side. He leaned over the shore, admiring her mind as much as anything else. Only she would fold everything crisply and take her time. It was endearing like her other quirks.
His face flushed when she was left only in her corset, drawers, and stockings. He'd thought he was ready, especially with all the big talk he'd made, but she was so intimidating when she wielded her appearance like a weapon. She'd always been cute but… in this moment, draped in her emotional vulnerability, she was beautiful. His heart stuttered. Her legs were just as long and lovely as he had remembered and dreamed about. And then she stepped in.
…
"This is certainly… foreign."
He hid a smile. "Not so bad, is it?"
She tilted her chin upward. "Not what I said." Annabeth glared at him, but she was swimming around a bit now, skimming her soft hands through the water, and watching with the fascination of a young child as ripples spread.
Only ten minutes prior, she'd been clinging to the shore, or him—not that he minded— pale with terror. It was heartwarming.
"Stubborn as ever." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head at her. Percy dipped under the water, letting it rise to just under his chin.
She glanced up. "Hubris, Mr. Jackson."
"Hummus?" He rose in the water, assuming he'd misheard. Don't get him wrong, he loved the chickpea, tahini masterpiece, despite it being a while since he'd visited the Middle East, but that would be a rather odd thing to bring up in a hot spring pool at midnight.
Her lips tipped up, and then she laughed. It made him feel all warm inside. "Hubris," she corrected, her tone light. "Pride," she rephrased. "Though I've always wanted to visit the Middle East."
"I know what 'hubris' means, Miss Chase," said Percy, a teasing lilt in his voice.
"Shocking," she proclaimed, shoving him rather harshly. If it had been anyone else, he would've thought she wanted him to back off, to give her space, but with her that was her way of an invitation. He slipped his fingers around her wrist, tracing the delicate inner skin.
"I read," he protested.
"Oh, really? What's your favorite then? If A Pig Wore a Wig?" she mocked him, her pearly whites lighting up in the dark.
He rolled his eyes. "I like McTeague, actually, as well as David Copperfield, Dracula, and The Island of Doctor Moreau. And for children's books, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland was always a favorite of mine. My mother read it in the voices and everything," he fondly recalled.
He dimly wondered how Sally was doing now, and Paul, too. And… he momentarily allowed himself to remember the sister he'd left behind. He'd come back home someday, and he'd talk to Estelle, and watch over her like how he'd watched over Luke growing up, and he'd make her cookies like their mother, and he'd read stories of Alice until her dark eyelashes fluttered shut.
Annabebth softened. "I liked David Copperfield as well," was all she said, snapping him out of his reverie.
"Let me guess, you're a Pride and Prejudice kind of lady? Perhaps Little Women? Emma?" he speculated.
She rolled her eyes. "Hmph," she said, which meant yes. Percy laughed.
"A closeted romantic!" he exclaimed, thoroughly amused. "You act so cynical," he accused. "But I'm more cynical than you. You're a believer." He wasn't sure why he was so excited by this new information, but that didn't stop him. She ran her free hand up his arm in a distracting manner.
"Nobody needs to know," she whispered, smiling shyly. His heart thumped loudly and he was brought back to the original topic: hubris and hummus.
"I'll take you to the Middle East someday," he promised before he could stop himself. It was a promise of the future, of something bigger than himself, and as frightening as it was, it was also everything he'd never knew he wanted. "I've only been once before myself, but I was old enough to remember, and it was beautiful, and colorful, and musical, and the buildings were stunning— you would love it." His throat felt tight, his face warm in this close of proximity to her.
Her cheeks turned a dusty pink. She didn't reprimand him, tell him not to make foolish promises, but he was loyal to his very end, and he would not break this promise of someday. It was a long time coming, but it would come, no doubt.
"I've only read about it in books," she breathed.
"Like you've read of hubris?" he gently redirected her to her main point.
"Oh, yes. My fatal flaw, Seaweed Brain, a common concept in Ancient Greece. Everyone has one, and mine is hubris."
"I see."
She hesitated. "Don't you ever feel that you could do better than those before you? That you could create a more beautiful empire, that you could build the world better than it is now?"
He shifted his weight. "Not really," he admitted. If he ran the world, he was sure it would burn to bits. That would be horrifying. Perhaps that's why the prospect of being a King had always scared him.
She blew out some air, blowing her curls in her face back. "Well, then your fatal flaw isn't hubris."
"What do you think it is?"
The blonde pondered for a moment. "Loyalty," she decided after a moment.
He laughed. "That's not a flaw."
Her lips pressed together, and the smile on his face died. "Don't be so sure, Percy. You would give up anything and everything for the people you love, and it makes you weak just as much as it makes you strong, just as all fatal flaws do," she warned. She seemed pained, and it pained him to see her like that, as if she was already imagining his death, him going out like a martyr as he'd always thought he would.
…
"I wish we could leave," she admitted quietly, not meeting her eyes. "I wish I could run away from this place, and Epresh, and all of it, and leave it all behind, and just travel the world, and enjoy myself, and let these wars end themselves."
Percy looked up at her. "So leave," he encouraged. "Take me with you." There was no hint of a smile on his face, only seriousness. "You are not beholden to the responsibilities you have indicted yourself with, and I wish you would understand that."
She hesitated and he frowned. "It's a delusional thought. Besides, I want this."
"How so?" he queried. He wished she would leave this place, would understand that she didn't have to save the world every time. She risked her neck for her causes and as much as he admired her courage, he spent equal amounts of time fearing for her too.
Leave him to die a martyr, or a good man, or a traitor, or not. Let her die in her sleep as an old, frail woman, just as beautiful as she'd been as when she was young. Let her have that bliss, that peace. Let the gods care for her when they were apart like they had for so long.
"It's not just like that. I can't just swim away."
"Why not?"
"I'm afraid I'll drown." She took a deep breath and stared at him in the eyes, offering the world's smallest smile. "I'm afraid I'll drown."
…
Impulsively, Annabeth bent and kissed his palms, the healed cuts on his hands, and the scars of a Prince. Then she folded his fingers closed, her own hands over his. When she looked up, his pupils
had widened. He could hear her breathing. His skin prickled all over.
"Annabeth," he said. "Don't."
"Don't what?" She drew away from him, though, instinctively. Percy regretted it immediately, he could sense her hesitance, that she thought he did not want to be touched. She could not have been more wrong.
"The military taught me control," he said, his voice tight. "I have every kind of control, and I have learned them over a decade, and I am using them all not to push you up against the side of the hot spring and kiss you until neither of us can breathe."
She lifted her chin. "And what would be wrong with that?"
"I forgot how to feel like an ordinary man," he said. "Not the sun on my skin, or the wind in my hair, or the touch of another's hand. But now I feel it all. I feel—too much. The sun scorches, the wind is like thunder, and your touch makes me forget my own name."
Annabeth studied him, and he once again felt like he had been struck by lightning. "You will grow used to the sun and win," she consoled. "But your touch makes me forget my name as well, and I have no excuses. Only that I love you, Perseus Jackson, and that I would do it all again. I would fight with you in a ballroom, kiss you in an empty castle room, trip after you in my heels as you run down the corridors, lean against you in a gilded cage, leave Epresh, explore dark forests, and get in a goddamn hot spring in the middle of the night." She wrung her hands nervously, but he held it in his own instead, forcing her to look up at him.
"There is no pretending," he whispered, his voice sounding strangled. "I love you with a love that shall never die, not till the sun grows cold, and the stars explode around us, and if there's a world after that, I'll love you then too." He loved the fool in her, the one who felt too much, talked too much, took too many chances, won and lost equal times, lacked self control, loved and hated, hurt and felt hurt, promised and broke some, laughed and cried.
"Say that part again," she hissed, a breath escaping her.
Puzzled, he began: "not till the sun—"
"No," she said. "The earlier part."
He tipped her face up to him. "I love you with a love that shall never die."
He didn't know who had moved toward who first, but he caught her around the waist and was kissing her before she could take another breath. This was a storm. Percy was kissing her, hard and bruising, and when she opened his lips with hers and tasted the inside of his mouth, he gasped and pulled her harder against him, his hands digging into her hips, pressing her closer to him as he explored her lips and tongue, caressing, biting, then kissing to soothe the sting.
She tasted of sweet lemon. It was most bewildering. He pulled away only for a moment, looking dazed and deliciously rumpled. His hair was every which way from her hands running through it.
He put his hands to the laces of her corset and tugged it. Annabeth moved to show him how to unlace it, but before she could guide his hands, he had already wrapped his arms around to the material. "My apologies," he said, "to this harmless corset, may it rest in peace," and then, in the most un-Percy-like fashion, ripped the corset open down the front and cast it aside. "Or pieces." She grinned at his joke. Underneath was her chemise, which she pulled up and over her head and dropped to the side.
Percy was sure the stinging of his palms would come later, but all he could feel at the moment was Annabeth pressed up against him, sitting across his hips. He wasn't sure how, but the rest of his clothes, too, had been discarded somewhere to the side, and they'd migrated out of the water, reclined on the banks of the pool.
Her blonde hair cascaded down her bare shoulders, and down her chest.
"I think that you should kiss me now," she said, though it sounded more like a question, like she was unsure of herself.
Percy flipped them over, careful not to put any of his weight on her, not that she seemed to mind. Instead, he propped his forearms up, caging her face below him. With trembling fingers, he cupped her face and kissed her again because he could and she'd asked and he'd do anything to please her.
He made a noise low in the back of his throat that he hadn't known he was capable of, a sound that made Annabeth's pupils expand her breath come quickly. "Percy," she said, "please, Percy," and she turned her head to the side, allowing him to trail fleeting kisses down the side of her neck.
This part he remembered. This much they had done before in that cold room. He remembered that if he peppered kisses at the base of her throat, at her clavicle, she'd dig her fingers into his back and in this case, arch up into him, crying out. He traced her stomach and her waist, pressing his lips just above her navel, and she whimpered against his ear.
And even when he was afraid of what came next, unsteady, she urged him on, helping him by guiding his hands, and reminding him that he had not lost all the nerves he feared dead after his time in the military, by brushing her fingers across the back of his neck, and tracing the hard planes of his chest and stomach. Percy shivered. When he was unsure of how to please her, his fear was drowned out by her responsiveness: her soft cries as he grazed his teeth along her legs and stomach.
"Perce," she whispered as he kissed her all over. "My Percy." He wasn't used to his name being thrown around so carelessly, without a title, just as he was vulnerable now, without his shields and barriers. To be called by a nickname, it was as intimate as the gentlest of touches.
It was so much better than he thought it would be, as they lay sprawled over the remnants of her clothes and his too. He was enveloped in her scent of lemon and oranges too, and he had never realized that her pleasure would heighten his, and that when he moved in front of her, she would automatically wrap her legs around him. He hadn't realized that there would be laughter and teasing and this easy, slow-going mood fallen upon them both.
She became less pliant and more demanding after some time, raising her face to be kissed over and over again and running her hands through his hair.
He heard himself cry out as he buried himself in her, feeling as though he was standing at a distance and watching them, a stranger. "Annabeth, oh God, Annabeth, Annabeth." He grasped at her waist, desperately clutching onto his last shreds of control, of the control he'd strived so long for his entire life. Coherency abandoned him, leaving him helpless and flushed like her. It was freeing in its own way, but still he refused to let go of control, if only to keep this feeling rushing through them both for all of eternity.
Annabeth's breathing was ragged, and when she went to say his name again, she lost her sense of words, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she tightened around him.
It was like setting fire to a forest, and his last pieces of control evaporated right before him into thin air. He buried his face into her hair and the crook of her neck, allowing the light to overtake him, colors bursting behind his eyelids. When he left Thasite, he had carried this darkness with him, and when he'd left the military, he hadn't realized he'd missed it until he was sitting next to his father in dreadful board meetings, and now she had opened the sun in front of his very eyes, bathing him in golden rays.
When he finally found himself again, he reluctantly pulled away from her. "That was—I—" he cut himself off, horrified to see that there were stray tears on her cheeks. "Annabeth?" He was very aware of the panic in his voice. She offered a tiny smile.
How foolish could he have been? He'd thought it had been perfect, beautiful, more than he could've asked for, but he forgot himself, forgot that he had lost his ability to feel when he had stopped caring, forgot that he was not experienced in this, forgot that he had been so scared when he came back from the wars that he would never love as he had as a young boy, and that as a growing man, he would not love others the way he had learned as an adolescent, but platonically and distanced.
She sat up, covering herself in a jacket, and he thought that was it, that she would stand up and tell him she loved him, but as a friend, and that was all there was to it. He'd told himself many times that he would be able to handle it, but now that he'd touched her and been touched, and stolen kisses in the intimacy of the dark night, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to bear it.
"Percy?" She looked at him curiously. "Percy, you're so far away!" He had indeed scooted a few feet away, giving her space.
He blinked. "But you were crying," he murmured, his forehead crinkling in equal parts confusion and concern.
She looked at him questioningly. "It's because I'm happy, Percy. Because that was wonderful and more than I could've ever dreamed of, or dreamt of dreaming of."
Oh. "Here," he said instead, reaching for his clothes and hers too, but not bothering to dress himself. No one would be wandering out here at this time of night. "My room's a private one since the Amazons don't want be to infiltrate their base with my evil." He traded a smug smile with her, seeing as she slept in a bunk-bed filled room with three other Canadian and Amazon girls. She shoved him again.
…
Back in his room, they curled up on his bed, abandoning their garments at the foot of his sheets. Annabeth fell asleep soon enough, but Percy found himself looking out the window, the delectable blonde curled up against his torso, and twirled her golden strands around his finger in fascination. He found solace in sleep later on, this time devoid of nightmares.
Nico
"I just don't think they're going to play clean."
Nico drummed his fingers on the table, acutely aware that he was distracting some advisors further down the line. He ignored the dirty look, turning his attention back to Malcolm.
"Calbournes have never played fair," he agreed, solemnly. "When is Luke issuing his address?"
"We have a few hours yet," the Ashington assured him, his eyes flitting around the room. His face was set grim.
"I say we send more troops," King Frederick's voice boomed through the room. Nico cringed. Athena, on the other hand, had fallen silent, seemingly immersed in an eternal depressive state. If she wasn't feeling so good… Nico swallowed. She was smarter than anyone gave her credit for, and he pitied the poor bastard who betted against her… or her daughter. He couldn't detect if her sorrow came from the shit happening around them or because she thought they were going to lose the wars.
Either way, Nico's stomach was churning the rest of the meeting.
"We can't. We need them to use as a backup in case something unexpected happens," Malcolm opposed.
"What could possibly happen?" Persephone called out from the left of him. Nico wanted to smack her, to shut her up. It was irrational, but he was tired, and therefore easily irritated.
"That's for them to know and for us to be prepared for," was all Malcolm said.
…
"You. Get over here." Nico pointed to the blond, mildly aware that there were other staff around, discreetly watching him out of the corner of their eyes. And his mother too.
Will warily walked over to him. Nico had not talked to him since that day his mother had bedridden him for a few hours. "Your Majesty?"
"Come with me," Nico ordered, feeling stiff and awkward demanding things of Will like this. The healer just seemed very confused.
"Nico? Where are you going?" Persephone stopped him, holding his arm back and looking at him quizzically. She paid no attention to a mere healer. "You have company arriving soon."
Another girl, yes. But not his idea of company.
"My head hurts," he lied, and stalked out of the throne room with Will awkwardly following him.
…
"Your head hurts?" Will raised an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving, yet still concerned. It seemed he was always concerned.
Nico rolled his eyes. "Of course not." The cool draft of the hallway made shivers run through him. Or maybe it was Will's presence.
Will's eyebrows furrowed together. "Then why did you—"
Maybe it was because Nico didn't know how to express himself in words, or was afraid what Will was going to say in reply, or was feeling particularly reckless, but the Crown Prince pulled the healer in by the front of his shirt, and despite being in the middle of a corridor, he kissed him.
…
"S-stupid kings and queens a-and—"
Will kissed him again, and Nico let out a little sigh of contentment.
"One time," he repeated, frustrated but not with Will. "I had made it very clear."
Nico pulled Will towards him even more, disgusted with his own self and his weak resolve. But Will was so enticing, with his laid back charm and his dorky facts and his bright blue eyes.
"But you didn't promise," Will breathed, smiling a little as he tucked Nico's hair back. "So you can do as you please."
"I don't like you." Nico frowned and Will laughed.
"Well, I like you. Very much," he mumbled against his lips, capturing them once more.
"I'm sorry I ignored you. I'm s-sorry I treated you like shit," Nico gasped between kisses, feeling weak.
Then all of a sudden they were topsy turvy, fallen onto his bed. The bedding cushioned Will's fall and Will cushioned Nico's. He was a little thing next to Will, so he didn't seem to be injured.
Nico stared down at him in astonishment. "What just happened?"
He looked bewildered as well. "I couldn't stand up anymore."
Nico's chest filled with warmth. He had only heard of kissing so hard that one's knees went weak themselves.
Will narrowed his eyes at him. "Did you trip me?" he asked, but he was smiling.
Nico shook his head, barely able to contain this alien giddiness, and joy, and terror all wrapped up into one. He couldn't fight the urge that he was about to do something he'd later regret, but he pushed forward anyways.
"Will?"
He propped himself on his elbows, looking up at the Crown Prince.
"No one can know." Nico swallowed thickly, wringing his fingers until they had red marks across them. They could continue this relationship, this fun, these moments if nobody found out, if it all stayed under wraps, if they were never seen talking in public, if they were only a royal and a healer in the face of other royals.
Will gently pried his hands apart, reclining back and pulling Nico down with him.
"I didn't want to share you anyways," Will teased, keeping the mood light, and Nico let out a breath of relief. "We can be like Romeo and Juliet," Will decided, laughing quietly. "Romeo and Julius."
Nico rolled his eyes again, smothering a smirk. "Romeo was an idiot," he said, smacking Will's arm lightly. Will was highly amusing. "He was one of the first stalkers."
Will's eyes went comically wide. "And you're not?"
Nico smacked him again, and Will laughed again. It sounded like music.
"Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Will dramatically narrated.
Nico's cheeks turned pink. "You're so embarrassing."
Will laid his hand on his forehead. "Thou hast undone our mother."
Nico felt a rare smile tugging to his face. "I have done thy mother."
"No." Will wrinkled his nose. "You have done me," he corrected slyly.
Nico choked up a lung, caught off guard. "Will!" he cried out in mortification. "Don't say that," he chastised as he began laughing as well.
"Do you wish to cross swords with me sir? And then they crossed swords, indeed." Will winked.
"Solace, I swear to fucking gods!"
"Romeo and Tybalt," Will wheezed, laughing like a madman. Nico covered his face with his hands, shaking his head at the ridiculousness that was Will. "Julius gets cheated on, the sequel."
Will's happiness was contagious and Nico prayed to the gods above that it would stay that way.
Percy
Percy woke to the sound of sirens wailing in his ears. It was faint, probably coming from the common center of the base—far, far away from his isolated cabin— but he could hear it. He'd always been a light sleeper.
He shot up in his bed, his hair sticking up every which way. A cold gust of wind came from his window, but he barely flinched. Back in Thasite, he'd stood in freezing seas and roaring oceans alongside his brothers of war. He hastily dressed, glancing at the blonde in his bed. She was still buried in his bedsheets, the covers pulled up to her chin. She must've been freezing. A stab of guilt ran through Percy and he closed the window, locking it with the latch.
"Perce?" She looked up at him with bleary eyes, slowly awakening. He hadn't meant to wake her, but he was sure his sudden jolt in the bed had indeed. The guilt ate at him more for interrupting her sweet peace.
"Sorry I woke you," he apologized profusely, reaching over to fix the comforter for her. He then buttoned up his shirt, reaching for his thick coat.
"Where are you going?" she murmured, sitting up. "Are those… sirens?" She frowned and if it had been any other situation, he would've reveled in that adorable confused expression.
"I think something's going on at the base," he hastily explained, pulling his heavy boots on.
She blinked. "Okay, I'm coming." She started to climb out of bed, but he stopped her.
"No, it's okay. Really. I'm sure it's nothing, but I'm just going to go check. I'll be back in ten minutes," he assured her. "You can go back to sleep."
Annabeth looked up at him with large grey eyes. She cupped his face with one hand and kissed his forehead. Percy felt all warm inside. "No way. I'm coming," she insisted, a hint of stubborn in her face.
"Okay," he whispered. "You haven't got time to dress properly. Let me help you." He remembered how long it'd taken her to change into those guards' clothes so long ago. Women's wear was confusing, for sure.
Percy scooped up her chemise and threw it on the bed for her, running around the room and collecting her armor and boots.
…
Outside, it was a blur of chaos and confusion.
"Thalia?!" Percy spotted the short, black-haired lieutenant running around. Reyna was barking orders on the left side and a fleet of Amazons ran forward to help her. He was acutely aware that Annabeth was shivering next to him. Epresh was always warm, unlike Thasite, being next to the shoreline and all. He gave her his military coat. It was heavy, but thick. She looked so small in it.
"Percy!" Thalia's face was serious. On his right, Artemis was firing off arrows, and Rachel was throwing out weapons to a line of Canadians. "We're under attack!" she briefly explained.
Percy steeled his face. "Who is it?"
"We don't know," Thalia was talking really fast. "But our North border is breaking down and all we know is that someone heard a roar in the Northern forest and reported it. Now we've got some soldiers, dressed in all black to hide their identity, on our hands."
"A roar?" Percy's eyes blazed in anger. If this was another monster thing, he was going to murder someone.
Thalia shrugged helplessly. Someone next to her said something that Percy couldn't quite make out and then ran off. Thalia paled. "Annabeth, get to the North shelter. They need you. And hurry."
The blonde's face hardened, ever the warrior. "I'm on it." Then she looked at him, and Percy felt that his heart was breaking. She was going North, closer to the battle. But before he could caution her, she whipped out her dagger, her expression momentarily softening. "Be careful," said Annabeth, and she brushed her lips on his cheek before running off in the dark of the morning.
"How many have we lost?"
"So far? Three Amazons, and a Canadian girl." Thalia's voice wobbled, displaying her anxiety in full force.
Percy cursed. "Can they hold off the front line without you?"
"I suppose," Thalia agreed, a little breathless.
Percy drew Riptide and it gleamed in the pitch black. Thalia whipped her silver shield out and her knuckles went white around her spear. "Then let's go find the meaning of that goddamn roar."
…
"Thalia, duck!" Percy shouted, and her eyes went wide. It was him and Thalia only. Reyna and the Queen were managing the front lines of the North border with everyone else. Some Canadians were still stationed around the other borders, keeping eyes out for more enemies. That left few to manage the monster.
"How is there a monster here?" Thalia screamed. She still hadn't been able to wrap her mind around ancient Greece coming to life, and Percy couldn't say that he could blame her. That hydra so long ago had been quite a shock for him back then.
"Thalia!" The cyclops swung with its giant hammer and before it could crush the lieutenant, Percy's adrenaline shocked him to move. He leaped forward, roughly throwing her to the ground, and successfully shoving her out of the way. "Snap out it!" he demanded, sweat dripping off his eyebrow.
"B—but," she stuttered. "It's massive, Perseus!" She was utterly and completely terrified, so out of her element. But she was his soldier, and as much as he cared for his warriors, Percy also knew when they just needed to be smacked. Softness and gentle words would not help her now, or she would get herself killed, and maybe even him. So that was exactly what he did.
"Shit!" Thalia grabbed her face after Percy slapped her. "What the fuck, Jackson?!"
"Snap the fuck out of it!" he ordered, rolling out of the way as the cyclops made the earth below them shake with a blow from his hammer. "You are a soldier first, you hear me? You fight before all else and fear is nonsensical! It is your duty, woman, so you will not lose your mind, not now! Do you understand me?" Percy grit his teeth, his sleeve tearing and threatening to fall off. The Cyclops had slashed him a few times, but Percy had gotten him back equal times. He was bloody and tired, and Thalia could not give up now, he could not afford it.
"You will not die on me!" he cried out, shoving Thalia again out of harm's way.
Thalia jolted forward, panic leaving her face and color returning to her. A soldier at heart, just as he'd known. He tore the flesh of the cyclops at his knee, and the monster howled out in pain.
"What do you suggest next?" Thalia screamed over the chaos, awaiting his directions.
"Do you see that tree?" He pointed to a tall pine tree, at least a foot taller than some of the other trees. Its trunk was as thick as the cyclops. "We drive him into it. He's stronger than us. Only he can injure himself enough!"
Thalia's hairline was bloody. "On the count of three?"
"One… two…" Percy could hear his own breathing in his ears. He stepped close to the tree just as Thalia jumped for the Cyclops. "Three!"
…
"Are you okay?" Percy wheezed, clutching his stomach. His hand was slowly coating in red.
Thalia sat up, holding her leg. Her nose was bleeding a little and he was pretty sure the cyclops broke it but she was okay and it was nothing a healer couldn't fix. "Of course I'm okay. You, on the other hand, look like shit." She winced as she stood.
"I'm fine," Percy reassured her, knowing that deep down, past her cold exterior, she really cared. "The north line needs us."
Thalia glanced at the wrecked tree and the large cyclops corpse. "What about… er… that?" She spread her arms wide.
Percy shook his head. "It'll break down, it's fine. Nobody comes in this forest anyways."
Together they limped out of the woods.
…
The chaos of the border had died down, and to his right, Percy could see that the sun was beginning to rise.
Across the pavilion, he spotted the familiar blonde. The anxiety in his chest eased at the sight of her. Not one hair on her head had been touched.
"Percy?" He heard her call him from so far away. She tilted her head to one side. "Thalia!" Then she was running over to them. Her cheeks were rosy from the chilly dawn. She took one long look at them both before turning and hollering. "Medic!"
A boy came running over. He was really, really short with shaggy brown hair and a scowl on his face.
"This is Michael Yew," Annabeth explained briefly. "He's a better archer than a healer, but he'll do." Michael set to work bandaging them both. Percy was more concerned about Thalia; that wound on her face didn't look too good.
"Did we drive them away?" he asked as he watched Michael wrap Thalia's hand with mild fascination.
Annabeth nodded. "But they also ran too far before we could figure out who it was. As far as we know, it could've been anybody."
Percy frowned. "Any suspects?"
"My money's on the Calbournes," said Annabeth, brushing Percy's hair out of his face. "No offense, of course. But with him…" she trailed off and it wasn't difficult to decipher her meaning. Luke's notes were reason to fear him enough.
Percy bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood. "Fair enough."
Thalia let out a sigh as Michael Yew ran back to the Canadians. There were plenty more injured to tend to. "Look, Percy. I want to apologize for everything I said. For what it's worth, I really like having you around."
He knew he'd saved her life, but to him, he didn't see it that way. It was just a reflex, him looking out for another life. Anyone should've done what he did.
He stared at Thalia. "No, you don't."
"I know. I have dreams where I staple your fingers to your face." And just like that, the cloud above them lifted.
Behind her, Annabeth grinned. "She's not the only one." And Percy rolled his eyes, cracking a smile of his own.
Their moment of peace was interrupted with a loud clang. Percy spun around to see a small boy, much shorter than himself, with curly hair and dark skin come running up. With his hair and slightly pointy ears, he looked like an elf. He had rough hands and Percy could only assume that he was a Canadian, and he worked in their forgery.
"I can't find Reyna," he wheezed, turning to Thalia. "She's probably assessing damages, but we've got a problem."
"Leo?" Thalia's face scrunched up, all of a sudden becoming serious. "What's going on?" she demanded.
"Calypso." His face was grim, his eyes burning with anger. "She's gone missing."
A/N: I adapted a scene from Mark of Athena, just to let you guys bury yourselves in your nostalgia for some time. I thought it was a bittersweet parallel. I miss our little boy, I really do, and it feels like a punch in the gut that he's all grown up like us. Perhaps finishing Tyrant's Tomb is what got me down, but I think I might reread the original series and maybe even HoO as well, just to feel a lil better. :P And now I've entered a state of grieving for a bunch of characters from so many of my fandoms, even if I read them a million years ago lol. (Send help)
I also want to address Percy's nightmare. In the canon series, demigod dreams mean something, and it's the same case here, except not for everyone. For those who have read TMI/TID, in that universe, Herondales (a shadowhunter family/bloodline for those who haven't read it) are known to be able to see ghosts. It's just a thing with them. I've decided that I'm going to do something similar here.
Calbournes are known for having visions/prophetic dreams. That means that when Sally faked her death, Poseidon had probably seen it coming in a dream beforehand. This also means that Percy's nightmare had substance to it, and Luke's dreams are also prophetic. Obviously Sally's aren't and neither were Medusa's since they just married into the family. But if Percy ever had kids or Luke, their kids would inherit that trait as well.
Until next time~
Fangirl xx
Butterflies765: Lol that's me. (When you have a constant love-hate relationship with angst.) Oh, I didn't even think of that! Hmm… I think Drecily sounds better, but honestly you can call it as you please. It's not a canon ship so it's up to you guys, I guess. That's fucking hilarious; I just read the line and out of context: "I really like the bit where Medusa dies" lmao. But yes, I loved that part too. Thalia and Percy's relationship is super underrated in the canon, but don't even get me started on that. Nooo, not Frozen! That's tragic XP You're such a big mood, I love it: "They make everything better. Or more horrible." As the writer, I def love unnamed characters, but as a reader, it's more frustrating than not lol. Yessss HP. (I've found that I can fit a ridiculous amount). Yep, there was Percabeth this chapter! And now that Annabeth finished her little quest and the Amazonians haven't murdered Percy during her absence, hopefully there'll be more Percabeth soon. I'm hoping to post again in another two weeks, or hopefully even less, but ig we'll see. Usually I'm busy enough that it takes two weeks, but it might be a tad more this time. I have quite a lot on my plate this coming week. And thank you; you're a fabulous reader!
Reader: I love Thalia and Percy's relationship. My next goal is to build Jason and Percy's friendship as well. I feel like Jason's in need of some characterization. Oh, one hundred percent. She wanted to save Luke so bad, as I'm sure Percy was hoping for as well, and it's soul-crushing to realize that Luke's beyond their reach now. Luke gave her something special. She'd never really had someone understand her like that before him, and even if Luke clearly lied in the end and betrayed him, she can't help but feel that not all of it was untruthful. I think she has very strong feelings for Percy but it's conflicting because she can't move past Luke, and she still harbors feelings for him too, though the feelings definitely change a bit depending on which brother. Her recklessness varies accordingly also. I'm relieved you like Drew x Cecily. I know that a lot of people hate her and perhaps don't want to give her a chance for characterization in my story due to their resentment of the canon her, but I really believe there's more to her than shallow hatred. Nico is struggling for sure, but Will's gotta stay true to his canon personality and just be supporting forever. What adorable beans lol. Lmao, that makes two of us; Medusa was a fucking nuisance, and I'm excited for Luke to be more in control of himself and his craziness. The unnamed character is going to be so much fun to reveal when the time comes. It may have been long, but I love your reviews, so it's all good. Well, I can't wait for your next review either, so I suppose it goes both ways. No, I did really have to thank you. Not many people would go out of their way to defend some random author on fanfic. It means a lot~
Starlight: Well, there was some more in this chapter; I hope it met expectations. :)
Chocolate: YES! I loveee that series, and I'm so glad you read it. Even though I play around with a lot of Aveyard's ideas in this story, she's the real queen of this kingdom. Glad you're not hopelessly disappointed in my story after being exposed to the greatness that is the Red Queen author XP