A/N: Every atom in me is invested in realizing my true form: Reylo trash.
Completely unrelated (like everything in my A/Ns), but some girl in my French class told me I always smell like chocolate and coffee, and I honestly don't know how to take that. I mean it's probably a compliment, and I loveeee chocolate, so that makes sense, but I don't even drink coffee? *insert surprised Pikachu face* Je suis très confondue, l'enfant.
This also probably takes the phrase "better to eat you with, my dear" to a whole new level, now that I think about it.
(P.S. I think I finally snapped at the slow pace and happiness, and just—I thought it was time to quit stalling and get to the Luke arc. Um… brace yourselves? :))
(P.P.S. This chapter is extra long bc I love u guys. Not bc I got evil inspiration at all. Me, nEVER?)
Disclaimer: All rights remain.
Percy
Shadows danced in his peripheral decision as he stared up at the Queen. The sun had begun to rise outside, but the wooden hall was cold nonetheless. Annabeth's relentless quivering was a testament to that.
"He was delivered here by your blood," Artemis hissed, her expression sour and icy. "So you will do the explaining first, boy."
Percy stiffened, disrespect lingering on the tip of his tongue. They had come to inform her of the murder, not for her criticism. It wasn't like he'd stabbed Octavian (though not for lack of trying). "I was asleep, I already told you. She screamed, and I ran to see what the fuss was all about."
Annabeth was still shivering next to him; Octavian's corpse must have been one hell of a scare. And she had never seen dead people up close, he could only guess. She had never been trained to fight in wars, only in luncheons with allies with her delicate tea-serving abilities. Manners classes could only get her so far.
Reyna hung her head across the room, concealing herself in the dark. She had always had a way of becoming invisible.
"Is this true?" Artemis snapped her attention to the blonde.
Annabeth bit her bottom lip, but all Percy could concentrate on was her hands, clutching at her stomach and begging her lungs to breathe normally again. She had already thrown up once from the corpse.
"Yes," she meekly muttered.
Thalia had dark circles under her eyes from being roused this early. She eyed him carefully, but Percy offered no insight into his line of thought.
"I say we take what victories we can, Artemis. The man is dead for better or worse, and we have one enemy out of the way."
"Well, I shall take no solace in this death," Artemis hissed, turning on Thalia. "Do not be so foolish that you blindly accept this as a victory, Lieutenant. He is dead, but dead because of a more formidable enemy, one capable of killing a man we have been hunting for months now in five minutes. And he knows our location. We will be moving to a new base, a more secure base at the crack of dawn."
Thalia took her side by Reyna, submitting to the Queen's anger. It would not fare well for her to receive her wrath as well.
"This is ridiculous," Percy said out loud, not entirely with thinking. Reyna shot him a wary glance at his words, but he found himself more frustrated than otherwise.
"It is," he repeated himself. "He's dead, and Luke is still on the go. Thalia is more than correct. We cannot blame my blood for our ignorance, for our inadequacy researching our enemies. We did not know how strong he is, but now that he has shown his true colors, we do, and we are not worse for it. Additionally, he eliminated another enemy, one we would never consider siding with to eliminate Luke himself, so where is the loss?"
"First off, there is no we," the Queen snapped.
Percy rolled his eyes. So much for making peace with the former royals. "Do not worry yourself; it was for pleasantries more than anything else," he bit back, and Artemis glared. "I would never dream of affiliating myself with your likeness."
Reyna slapped a hand over her mouth at his outward rudeness. Percy did not back down; the Queen had started it.
Artemis regarded him shrewdly. "You are still just a boy, Perseus. You may believe you know better, but you do not. You are delusional if you believe it is better that your brother knows who we had fought with. Now he shall know our tactics, our failures, everything. Our weaknesses make him stronger, and our being here still, after he has blatantly warned us of his knowledge, is a threat to everything Amazons have stood for."
"If I may, Queen—" Reyna faltered.
"You may not, General," Artemis quipped.
Her eyes did not stray from his, but Perseus stood his ground. Whereas Annabeth had fallen to her knees at Artemis' feet like a proper Amazon, he had done no such thing. He was not an Amazon, he was a Prince of his own right, the rightful King of Thasite, and he would not bow to fear itself. For a group of people who hated monarchies, their organization seemed an awful like one at times. A 'democracy' was still a dictatorship if the votes were counted in fear and pure intimidation. In fact, Percy had more respect for the Canadians who truly embodied democracy fully, but he would not voice the thought now.
"We will attack his forces tomorrow," Artemis demanded. Reyna's jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered herself before the Queen could notice. "We must show our strength, we must fight back."
"You are making a mistake," Percy boldly stated. Thalia buried her head in her hands at his words, but he would not let it go so easily. He glanced to Annabeth to gauge her reaction, but she was emptily staring at the cracked floor. "You cannot fight fire with fire."
Artemis flared up. "I can, boy, and you will see. We will take their numbers like never done before." She said 'boy' like it was a disgusting, germy word she wished to rid herself of.
"You have not fought a war for decades," Percy countered, and Reyna cursed under her breath. He was pretty much calling her old.
"And you are a foolish child. Fighting one war does not make you a hero, Perseus," Artemis spat.
Percy bubbled internally with frustration.
"I was the youngest general in the front lines in all of Thasite history! I know my place, I assure you, and I also know you do not know how it works anymore!"
"If you believe yourself so useful, you will fight too, Perseus," Artemis ordered.
Annabeth covered her ears on the ground, and Percy felt the guilt coming back. It would have to wait, however, for this to be finished.
"So be it," Percy spat back. "I fear no war, but this does not change the fact that your tactics are outdated, charted on maps for us to learn how to fight growing up! With all due respect, leave this to your strategists. Do not be rash. You will pay in blood for your mistakes, and I imagine that is not a chance you are willing to take," he advised.
Artemis glared down at him. "In this world, Perseus," she began coldly, "it is my word against yours. The only difference is, mine outbids yours. Every time. Do not forget it. Reyna, prepare the soldiers. Thalia, evacuate all. We will migrate further up north. And dispose of the Langen's body. I do not wish to see his disgusting face in any life."
"You must burn him," Percy urged.
"I will not. Cremation is for my comrades only. Heroes alone receive that honor. I will leave him to rot."
"You will not!" Percy's fists clenched. "He is dangerous like this; anyone can extract his DNA and take from his body as they wish. For the love of god, woman, you will heed my advice for this alone. You can throw his ashes in a trash can for all I care, but you will burn him."
Annabeth flinched beside him, and Percy stepped forward to shield her, putting himself between her and the Queen. Artemis stood like she was going to strike him, but she settled down, tapping her ivory fingernails against the armchair.
"Reyna, dispose of his ashes then," she gritted out.
"Yes, of course." Reyna ducked out of the room, followed closely by Thalia.
Percy shook his head to himself. "It is my word against yours," he quietly agreed, mirroring her prior words. He wistfully glanced down at Annabeth, still guilty at the state she was in. "I hope your comrades have as much faith in you as you have in yourself."
Without waiting for dismissal, he shouldered Annabeth's weight, guiding her out the dingy doors.
Nico
"Oh no you don't, di Angelo! I swear to god, I'll send you to the underworld the hard way!"
Nico grinned as he sprinted to the cabin, his chest aching from the wounds, but with Kayla screaming bloody murder a few yards behind him, he had good incentive. Your nurse's threat of homicide—however unlikely she tries to make it sound—will flat dampen down your spirits.
Kayla huffed behind him, infuriated, and she stepped up onto the stairs just as he slid across the porch.
He smirked, reveling in her red, angry face and heavy breathing before promptly slamming the door in her face. Now that that was taken care of…
Nico spun on his heels, coming face to face with a stunned medic. A familiar blond, sun-kissed, swoon-worthy, gorgeous—
"Nico?" His baby blue eyes were blown wide with fear, and his mouth was hanging slightly ajar in pure astonishment. He was skinnier than Nico remembered—a realization that made Nico feel guiltier than he had in awhile.
His mouth pressed into a thin line, and just when Nico thought he was going to yell at him or smack him for being stupid or burst into a puddle of tears, Will did the most unexpected, quite possibly Will-Solace thing in the world: he crushed the smaller boy in a rib-cracking hug as if their limbs intertwined could meld them together, so that they would never again be apart.
Nico stood against the door, stunned, before reaching out to timidly bury himself in Will's bear embrace.
"Youff-subbosed-tber-ithet."
Nico pulled away to unmuffle the medic, puzzled by his garbled language. "What?"
"You're supposed to be in bed," he berated.
Now Nico rolled his eyes. Of course the first thing Will would do is scold him for releasing himself without a proper discharge. Not for running off into the woods and nearly being killed, not for not waking up, not for being an idiot and neglecting him out of fear before he'd gone into a coma, not for being a stupid little kid who didn't know how to express himself.
"Really, that's the first thing I get?" Nico didn't shove him off, even if Will was squeezing him still and a little too hard, might he add.
"Oh, you're an idiot," Will hissed between his teeth, glaring at him. "But I think you already know that."
Nico offered a cheeky little smile. "Maybe," he half-agreed and finally pried himself out of Will's death-grip. The blond still clung onto him, even as he urged Nico to sit down.
The runaway King eased onto the couch. It felt like it had been forever since he had seen the world through his own eyes, but only because of how different Will seemed. If no one had told him he'd been in a coma at all, he might've been inclined to believe he'd only been out for thirty minutes. That, and the fact that he'd heard stray pleas and prayers for his well-being while under a coma. It was a sobering memory, one that twisted his stomach just the wrong way.
"We need to go back," Will reminded him, breaking him far from his thoughts. "Eventually, I mean. Your little escape kept them from properly monitoring you."
"Eventually?" Nico asked no one in particular. "I thought you'd be on my case to be examined immediately." He fiddled with the loose, green thread on the cushion next to him.
"Maybe I'm not as eager to return you as I should be," Will reluctantly admitted, shrugging his slight shoulders.
Nico hid the tiniest of smiles, remembering Percy's mental breakdown in contrast to Will's calm reaction. Will's breakdowns had occurred while he was in the coma. In fact, he distinctly remembered hearing them, but it was still funny in its own way to think about.
"You don't understand how long I had to console hysterical people," Nico murmured. "I'm glad to be home."
They both froze at his words, turning to look at each other in an almost comedic unison.
"Home?" Will echoed.
A slow grin encompassed Will's face, just as Nico shrunk in mortification. Will was such a dramatic little ass, and he just knew he would make a big deal of it.
Will awkwardly coughed. "I mean, nevermind. It's no big deal."
At that, Nico rolled his eyes: Will was a crap liar. Nico covered his face in resignation. "Go ahead."
Will's poorly-built facade crumbled, and he broke out in sheer enthusiasm. "I can't believe you're capable of saying such adorable things now!"
"Oh my god."
Will clasped his hands together, grinning from ear to ear.
"Whatever choices I have made in my life that have led me to this moment… please know I regret them, every single one of them," Nico muttered, but it didn't seem to deter the ecstatic medic in the least. "Cupid must've screwed up to land me with you," he deadpanned, trying to save face.
"Oh, hush; you don't mean that," Will revealed, beaming. He sidled up to him, carefully taking Nico's bandaged hand in his own. "But in all seriousness, that's very sweet. I'm glad you're okay."
Nico blinked, unsure how to handle Will's earnestness and honesty. It was… refreshing.
"I'm sorry." He internally cringed; it sounded like he was apologizing for being 'sweet' (though he certainly wished he could). "For not telling you about Octavian," he clarified.
Will's mouth was as straight as a ruler. "You never did tell me what exactly happened."
"Right. Remind me in my next coma, and I'll give you the full details," he sarcastically drawled. Will smacked him lightly for his cheek. "It was an anonymous note," Nico recalled. "Telling me they could fix something."
"Fix what?" Will pressed. Perhaps he believed he could fix it, Nico mused. That would certainly be the day.
"Nothing specific. He just said he could fix my problem. I was curious. I was not sure who it could be or what problem, and I had never imagined Octavian had breached our location. At the worst, it could have been a bitter Amazon. So I went." Nico glanced down at the gauze around his arm. "He said he discovered immortality. He said he could resurrect people. So, in short, I battled him, and a few of his goons, and I now I remember what it feels like to lose in battle. It's certainly been a while, and I can't say I miss it."
Will shot up. "No."
Nico looked at him strangely. "Yes? Why would I miss it?"
"No, you don't understand." He profusely shook his head. "That's what Annabeth told us too when she came back, that he had discovered how to play the role of the Gods. She had unknowingly helped him, but she had hoped she had made a mistake. If he told you otherwise, then… then it must be true. If he's still out there, we're all in danger. Our graves are in danger."
Nico's expression darkened. "I should have killed him while I could." He struggled to his feet, and Will watched, albeit conflicted to ask. Before he could, "I'm going to find Annabeth," said Nico.
Will's jaw tensed. "To confirm her story?"
Nico shook his head, reaching for the doorknob. "I believe you. No, to warn her, to warn everyone. Something will be coming, something terrible. And we don't know what it is yet."
Will hesitated. "It's barely five in the morning. I'm sure she's asleep."
At that, Nico paused. "Is it really?" Being in a coma had caused him to lose track of time, and he hadn't really realized the effects until right then.
"July 11th, 1878. He glanced at a small, platinum Edward Prior pocket watch Nico's grandfather had bought in London decades before. Nico had gifted it to Will about a week before his coma. "And 5am," the blond confirmed.
Nico's knees buckled under him at the shock. Will, horrified, jumped out of his seat, rushing to help him up. "You're already injured!" he berated, his voice laced with concern.
"It's July." Last time he had been awake, it had been June. Nico couldn't ignore the worry filling Will's eyes.
"Well, you were out for about two weeks or so," Will admitted, dragging him back to the couch. He ran to get him a cup of water, filtering the boiled stream water into a cup. "Are you okay? I know it's quite the shock."
"I'm fine," Nico strained, sipping at the glass, lost in thought. "Perhaps I will wait until later in the morning. She must be asleep still."
"She was never the early-riser," Will agreed, recalling his days serving the Princess. "Quite the mess, actually."
A muscle in Nico's cheek twitched; he could already imagine Annabeth flushing red with anger at the accusation. Will was such a royal servant, always eager to dish out the news on the royals, no matter how much he loved Annabeth. Nico could still recall his time in the Pevanshire castle—Bianca's handmaidens had always been quick to flit their dark eyelashes up at him, their whispering ceasing the second he entered the room. It was funny now that he knew why he'd never felt any attraction towards them.
Amused, Nico smothered his smile behind the rim of the cup.
"So fill me in on the current events," he demanded, and Will got to work, narrating the recent news with big hand gestures that reminded Nico all too much of himself. He supposed his Italian roots were rubbing off on Will. Adorable.
Percy
"Percy, you're going to fight?" Annabeth was close to falling apart, fragile after all that had happened to her.
He chewed inner cheek, thoughtful.
"Yes. Artemis has ordered it for my disrespect."
"Percy, no," she gasped. She looked like she was sucking in desperately for air, like she couldn't breathe, and Percy was sitting beside her on the rickety, wooden bench, his hand splayed across her back immediately.
"Breathe, Annabeth," he whispered, taking deep breaths with her to slow her panic. She imitated his example, calming. "Now speak," he encouraged, once she had settled once more.
"Your PTSD," the blonde desperately reminded him, her eyes wide with fear.
Fear for me. Percy jolted with surprise. He had never been feared for before like this. It was an odd feeling.
"I know," he acknowledged. There was no point in hiding it; she had seen the surface of the effects anyways when, late at night, he would restlessly turn and toss, probably waking her from her own sleep. Yet another guilt to pile on top of his growing list. He was a burden, even in the subconscious state.
Maybe it was because he had never said it out loud, but Annabeth curled over with full realization. Having someone point out your illness was a very different thing than coming to terms with it yourself. They sat quietly for a few minutes.
"They're going to eat you alive," she whispered, morose.
Percy shrugged. "It was a long time coming."
Annabeth clasped her hands together, and he was suddenly aware that his own hands were clammy and cold.
"That's not fair," she muttered.
Percy stared at his boots. "Life's not fair, but I'll deal. It's my job."
Annabeth glared at him. "You shouldn't have to." She stood up hastily, so fast she nearly got dizzy. He reached out to steady her, but she jerked away. He recognized that face immediately.
"What are you thinking?"
"I'm coming too."
Percy wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but not that. "Are you kidding me?" He laughed, but it was hollow.
"I'm serious, Percy."
Now he schooled his expression. "No way. You just got out Octavian's prison!" he argued.
Annabeth glared at him. "Don't tell me what to do."
Percy groaned, exasperated. He ran his fingers through his hair, thoroughly fucking up his already mussed hair. "I'm not." She always did this, falling back on her accusations when she was drowning in doubt, painting him as the antagonist. It was a coping mechanism, but it didn't make it any less frustrating.
"Good. I'm glad we've settled it then."
Percy sat with his feet flat on the floor like a true Victorian royal, his hands resting neatly on his knees. "We've settled nothing!" Of course, his tone was very much contrasting.
Annabeth's lips tightened into a thin line. "Yes, we have. I'm fighting with everyone else. My break has been much too long—"
"—barely a few days," Percy interrupted.
"—and," she continued as if he had never spoken, "I can be there with you, with everyone else. It is partly my responsibility if things go awry. If my strategies fail, I must be there to take the fall."
"But it's not yours! It's Artemis', and she's crazy. She will not listen to reason, and Luke will be there… mostly likely."
Annabeth blinked. "He won't be able to stop me."
"I don't doubt it," Percy tried to assure her. "But he's a hard fear to face so soon, Annabeth."
Her expression hardened, and he knew with a sinking feeling that she had already made up her mind. So stubborn. "I don't fear him," she let out through gritted teeth.
"Fine," Percy conceded, though they really had not settled anything. "But I swear to god, if he happens to be there, I'm handcuffing you to a goddamn jet."
Annabeth's cheeks went pink, not unnoticed by Percy. He realized his own innuendo too late, and he looked the other way before she realized he knew.
"And I'm training with you before we leave," Percy added.
Annabeth frowned. "I know how to fight, Percy."
He stared at her. He loved her, he really did, but sometimes she was seriously delusional. "Not like this," he mumbled solemnly, "not against a royal like one from my family."
Maybe it was something in his voice, but she shut up, and together they basked in silence that would not last for long as the sun fully claimed its place in the blue sky.
Annabeth
Dirty and skinny kids filed into the underground train quietly. Annabeth had thought the train had stopped working decades ago, but as Artemis revealed later when it was just the two of them, Reyna had convinced the royals of such so that they could use it for themselves. Clever. And it would be useful now as the Amazons and Canadians alike evacuated to further up Canada.
All other alliances had been alerted like Malcolm, but it was still unnerving. If they were attacked, well… there went all their resources. Besides, many of them would be staying behind with close to nothing. They planned to attack Luke's base but the very next morning.
Annabeth flinched. Luke had been right; they would perhaps be spending her birthday together after all, only this time they hoped to leave with some semblance of control. They couldn't take him down so easily, no, but they could certainly shake his resources and instill some fear in the Boy King. That much was crucial.
As Annabeth checked off numbers, counting people as they boarded, she gnawed on her bottom lip.
Maybe Percy had been right after all.
After pondering over decision to fight in this attack for some more time, she had realized the true weight behind her rash words. She would maybe see Luke for the first time since she and Percy escaped his cage. She would see royals she hadn't seen in forever, now fighting on another side if she was unlucky, if their attack wasn't as subtle as she hoped. She would see the death of those she prayed she never would.
Her stomach twisted in knots. If she changed her mind now, Percy would understand. He would not tease her—he was not like that—but it would take something from her that she didn't have left anymore. No—she could not go back on her word now. She would trek through. She would make it out okay. Something told her that if she came too close to death, Luke wouldn't hesitate to kill her enemies for her.
With the uneasy protection of both brothers in her mind, Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief as the train bolted up the north tracks, disappearing out of sight. Percy stood near the edge, watching them go in stony silence. Piper was whispering something in his ear that she couldn't quite make out from where she was standing. Percy's hands were clenched behind his back, and she had no doubt whatever tidbit of information she had delved into, he wasn't happy about it.
"Annabeth!"
Her attention snapped to Thalia. The spiky-haired girl had a golden bandana in her hair, and she was leaning lazily against the dirty brick walls without a care for the germs. Annabeth tried not to focus on it.
"Yes?" she voiced, unsure. Thalia approached her, her footsteps loud in the quiet, echoing tunnel. The empty space the train left behind made every sound heighten by ten.
"Meeting in the boardroom. Last minute plans." Her expression darkened. "You sure about this, Annie?" The nickname fell short in its usual malice.
Annabeth hesitated, and then she reluctantly shook her head no. "I'm not," she voiced her anxiety. "Percy might be right; Artemis is out of her mind," Annabeth whisper-yelled. Thalia nodded. This was not new information. "But… I'm also excited. I know we will lose some. It's inevitable," Annabeth stated, grim. Thalia's face fell. It must not have been what she had wanted to hear, but it was the truth, and Annabeth refused to shy away from it. "But we will gain too. I just know it. I can only hope we gain more than we lose, so that it is worth it. It's all or nothing, Thals. If we really push this, maybe we can scare them enough. We'll be so much closer to their submission."
Her eyes glittered, and Thalia warily stepped back. "Easy, tiger."
Annabeth let out a breath. "Sorry." She knew her thirst for blood was as unnerving as it was a motivator.
"As long as you have some faith, I'm in," Thalia confirmed. "I trust your word, and I know you know what you're doing so… so I'm here. Whatever you need," Thalia promised.
Annabeth's heart warmed. "Thank you."
Thalia dipped her head in acknowledgement. "Now let's hurry. We don't want to be late."
Annabeth glanced around to see everyone else had retreated back to the base. Percy had even taken her coat with him, knowing her penchant to accidentally leave things behind. Annabeth allowed Thalia to guide her out of the winding corridors as they stepped out into the mid-noon heat.
…
She could hear her name in their mouths, like a drum echoing through the stadium. It was surreal, to say the least.
As a royal, she had been famous too, but not like this, not for being more than Epresh's sweetheart, a pretty little thing. They knew her name. They knew she would cut them if they tested her, they knew her brain was quicker than her mouth sometimes, they knew blood was inevitable, and she had never felt less like her old self than she did right then.
If the royals back home saw who she had turned into, she didn't think they'd recognize her. And I think that's okay with me, she inwardly confirmed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Percy's eye. He had smoothly slipped into a crevice where no one could see him—but she could. Clever. However, it would not shield him. He stuck out like a sore thumb, a man who had clearly stated that his alliance laid with Annabeth and her alone. And he could not hide; he was the type of guy everyone was automatically drawn to, like a magnet.
Annabeth had never really thought of Percy as small. It was simply put, preposterous, fucking ludicrous, insane. She was tall for a girl, but he was still taller than her, and though he was lean, he was strong with visible muscle definition. But here, surrounded by strangers that would probably never fully welcome the ex-Prince, he appeared out of place to her observant eye.
She could only remember the grace with which he had strolled her castle's hallways. No—Epresh's castle; it had never really been hers, not really. Just like she had never really been Epresh's Princess, but a woman of her own independence, never quite belonging to a land, a people, or a man. Only ever her family, and even then, that was only Malcolm.
And if she had thought Percy was comfortable in her castle or even his own, it was only fair to acknowledge his ease when in battle, whether that was out fighting in wars bigger than him or in a training arena. She was shocked with a momentary surge of jealousy coursing through her veins. Had this all not turned to shit, Percy would have been perfect for inheriting his place in society. He would have been content with what his parents had left him. He had an undeniable passion for justice, and more so, he had always seemed to fill the role of a leader effortlessly. It was frustrating, to say the least.
She could remember his panther-like agility and slick, smooth movements on the battle ground. It was how people were supposed to feel in their homes, Annabeth supposed. Comfortable. But the castle had never been her home. She hadn't wanted to leave as a traitor, her name dragged through the mud, and her pride stained with blood she hadn't wished for, but she had wanted to leave nonetheless. And deep down, the stubborn blonde couldn't deny the truth behind her reckless thoughts. She'd wanted to leave. It wasn't home, not to her. Not ever.
Her lips parted in surprise, her face flushed and her eyes wide. She began to shrink under everyone's expectant gazes. She resisted the urge to cradle her head in freezing shock as she attempted to wrap her head around this newfound revelation.
Annabeth cleared her throat instead. "Let's begin."
…
Annabeth slammed a dagger into the map. "Here!" she stressed, eyes blazing. The July sun had trapped warmth into the boardroom, and her forehead perspired. "You cannot deny it, my Queen. We'll be massacred otherwise," Annabeth pleaded.
Artemis watched, expressionless. "You believe in this?"
Annabeth didn't hesitate. Confidence was key to winning over the Queen's support in any situation. She had learned that early on. Perhaps that's why she was viewed on the same level as Reyna and Hylla to Artemis.
"Yes."
"You will back this plan even if it fails?" Artemis scrutinized her.
Percy was quiet, anticipating her answer just as much as anyone else in the room. They waited with bated breath.
"Yes."
Looking out at the sea of faces who watched her with hope and fear and everything in between, she felt like a failure already. I'm sorry. I'm sorry to those of you who I'll never see again. Thank you for your trust in me. And I'm sorry I will let you down.
She couldn't fight the sinking feeling that she was making a mistake as she shouldered the new burdens. Her plan was not foolproof—no plan was—and with the numbers, theirs were sure to dwindle no matter how they approached. It was a sacrifice they had to make to shake up these wars and tilt them to their side. Only now, the blood would be on her hands. Again.
It was a feeling she had never gotten used to, one she hoped she never would.
…
Annabeth woke with a start.
"Percy? Why aren't you sleeping?"
He glanced at her guiltily. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
It was true the lack of warmth had probably made her uncomfortable to rouse, but she did not say so. "You didn't," she lied. "Are you okay?" Annabeth reached out and grazed his shoulder with the palm of her hand. "We have a big day ahead. You really need the rest."
"I—I know. Just thinking," he amended, reluctantly crawling back under the covers at her prompt.
"Me too," she admitted.
He tucked a stray tendril of curly hair behind her ear, brushing his thumb across her face, and tracing her jawline with tender care. She drowsed off again, his soothing touch lulling her to sleep.
…
The next time she woke, Percy was already dressed.
Annabeth shot up in the bed, dread coiling at the pit of her stomach. "Is it time?"
"I waited the longest I could to wake you," Percy admitted. "I'm afraid it's still not enough sleep."
That was okay. Her dreams had been plagued with nightmares anyways, and it had been restless at best. Annabeth shimmied into her gear. Percy's hair was wet from a shower most likely, but she didn't have the time. The Princess hastily scrubbed her pearly whites, tying her hair out of her face. She splashed water onto her face, and winced at the rude awakening to her morning.
"What time is it?" she ventured delicately, drying off her face with her sleeve like a caveman.
"Three," Percy was curt. He was staring at his sword, and Annabeth tried to ignore the way he seemed so comfortable with it. It wasn't his fault he was accustomed to it.
She was reminded of a conversation from before she'd been in Octavian's hospital. He'd comedically told her about how he used to sleep with a sheathed dagger, flashing his grin at her. It'd been funny at the time. Now it felt like the dagger was stabbing her over and over and over again.
Little kids didn't sleep with weapons unless something was seriously wrong with the world around them.
"I'm sorry," she blurted out without any context.
Percy frowned at her, and Annabeth mentally cursed herself for her foolishness.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, trying to smooth out her awkward outburst.
"What for?"
"That you defended me, and now you're here, not up north, fighting a war that never should've been yours," she admitted. It was easier than confessing her shameful pity for him. There was no way in hell he'd take that lightly.
Percy looked at her oddly. "That's not your fault, and if I can do good here… then I don't regret it," he assured him.
He was just so wholly good that she felt inferior in his presence, the evil half, the part eating away at his goodness, his humanity. He was much better than she deserved, and it was terrifying. This was why Luke and her had gotten along so well. They were the inferior siblings together. Annabeth bit down on her lip, nervously.
"Okay," she breathed. "Thank you," she permitted.
Percy frowned. "Okay," he echoed. "Come," he swung open the cabin door, and sure enough, there were a few drowsy passerbys making their way to the center of the base to report for duty.
She stepped out into the dark of the early morning.
"Annabeth," he called out a second later, hesitating before shutting the front door. "I—" His mouth was slightly ajar, a thought lingering on the tip of his tongue.
"Yes?" She smiled up at him, but it was strained.
"Nevermind. Let's go." He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips that made her want to irrationally sob.
Annabeth trailed obediently after him, and together they boarded the jet. Thalia was already on board, and she barely nodded to Annabeth, wrapped up in her dark armor, a scowl on her face.
"I almost forgot," Percy remembered, helping her up before climbing aboard himself. "You had been sleeping when I remembered. Happy 18th Birthday," he wished her, smiling warmly.
Annabeth slumped against the back of the co-pilot's seat. Reyna would sit there later next to Percy, directing him, but for now she basked in his presence. He made her want to be better.
Her chest tightened in knots at his casualness. He was the first person to wish her a happy birthday. Only a year back it would've been Malcolm, and though she was sure there would be a letter waiting for her up north after the attack, it was still a blatant reminder of how her role had shifted through the months, now a prominent figure of the biggest rebellion, and Percy had, as promised, stuck with her through it all. She hoped she would make it out to see the letter, to send one back saying thank you, saying she loved her brother. Consequently, her words got caught in her throat.
"You're finally an adult," Percy realized, unbothered by her lack of response, or at least, if he was, he didn't say so. "You might as well cherish this month while you can. In exactly one month and six days, I'll be moving in front of you again," he teased, but it was fatigued.
That was right. He would be nineteen. And then soon, he would be twenty. Then twenty-one. Then twenty-two.
Annabeth still felt like she was seventeen, stuck in a world apart from him, trapped in a cage she'd built for herself.
"Thanks," she managed, and this time Percy didn't say anything.
…
Smoke rose around her as the first shots were fired.
Annabeth's heart pounded fiercely, and she feared she was having a cardiac arrest. It had been so long since she'd been in Thasite, and even longer for Percy. She wondered if he was as afraid as she was. Surely not: he was also stronger than her, she acknowledged. She stared at the blazing inferno in front of her. Dimly, she wondered if she'd die without eyebrows.
And so the attack began. The smoke was choking up her lungs. Alarms were shrieking around her, Luke's guards alerted after a few indiscreet bombs went off. Leo would be dropping soldiers through battle on the jet.
A flashlight blinked once, twice, three times on a lower castle tower. On cue, the jet swooped by, dropping off soldiers. She couldn't decipher their faces from here, but Percy would be among them, fighting in the heart of the battle, storming the castle for captors, for royals to murder. She wondered if Percy missed this place.
"Chase!"
Annabeth glanced behind her. Against all advisement and Will's threats, Nico had decided to fight on the sides with her. She would do all she could to protect him, but Will wasn't here, caring for sick children and the elderly up north. She would make sure Nico came home to him if it was the last thing she ever did.
"Coming!" she hissed out, turning away from the action and spinning into the thick of the leaves. There, she began setting up the firework-bombs. Nico helped her, putting wires together as she barked out orders. She ran through the twilight, a flame in her hand as she efficiently lit them all on fire. Annabeth covered her mouth with the neckline of her chemise, keeping the smoke away, but her eyes still watered.
From anxious, stressed tears or the atmosphere, she honestly wasn't sure anymore.
…
Annabeth ducked, leaping out on the balcony of the castle tower. A guard closed in on her. She tried to remember Percy's training, but with her back pressed into the railing, her confidence was quickly waning.
All of a sudden, an arrow whizzed past her ear. A single strand of her hair fell to the ground, hardly noticeable. She gasped as the arrow buried itself in the guard's chest.
She spun to face the assassin, only to see Percy on a mini jet. He was balancing on piece between the red wing and the door. His foot scraped against the paint, nearly slipping, and Annabeth nearly screamed. She was relieved he was still okay, scraped up, but okay. There was a deep cut on his chest, bleeding through his shirt and jacket, but there were a few stray bandages to allieve the pressure. She could only guess Michael Yew had quickly solved his issue to get him out and about again.
"Do you trust me?" He outstretched his free hand, his expression nervous, but hopeful. Annabeth couldn't help it—she rolled her eyes.
"Gee, why wouldn't I trust the guy with a bloody sword in his other hand?" She wrinkled her nose in disdain, tilting her chin up. This time Percy rolled his eyes.
"Way to ruin the moment."
"I wasn't aware we were having a moment," she coolly retorted. Percy's boot skidded against the side, and her panic came back again. She couldn't do this.
"Just hurry up before I pick you up and throw you in the jet myself, like you're an errant toddler." He was oblivious to her inner turmoil.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"Or a sack of flour."
Annabeth glared, about to let loose a few unkind remarks and stall the inevitable, terrible, life-plunging jump, ones sure to make the average boy go crying to his mommy, but before she could engage in some verbal joust, he'd already fulfilled his threat. True to his word, he scooped her up and not very gently plopped her on the shiny, blue seats.
"A very heavy sack of flour," he added, smirking. Annabeth smacked him, secretly relieved.
"My hero," she drawled, cross. She prayed her heart would calm down, and after ten minutes, it did, the near-death experience leaving her mind just as soon as it had come. She could only focus on what was to come from now on; the past did nothing but scare you.
…
They flew for some time, collecting their men and women. They had lost some, that was for sure, their numbers dwindling, and the guards just kept coming, but it had not been in vain, no.
Crumpled in the castle and on the ground were bodies, strewn carelessly. And they were rich blood.
Annabeth didn't ask Percy who he had killed, if he'd had to kill family, if he'd passed people he'd known. Those scars ran deep.
Annabeth scurried across the jet. "Artemis," she breathed, alerting Thalia who was babysitting the heat radar. "Let's get her and Hylla and Reyna out of each X," she pointed to the map she'd drawn back in the boardroom the night before, "and let's get the hell out of here. We've done what we came to do." Kill some allies and create chaos.
Thalia paled as the ship drew nearer to the ground. Reyna scaled on, but this was not her base. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, and Annabeth gaped at the body in her hands. Piper shoved her way to the front, taking Annabeth's side. She paled the same.
Red coated Reyna's hands. It was fresh, still wet. The body laid limp in her arms, the black hair stick straight and sweaty. She had shut their eyes so you couldn't see the cold blue, and the gold bandana was no longer gold.
"Hera," Reyna sobbed. "She killed her."
Percy blinked, concealing his rage. Hera was his father's cousin.
"And Hylla ran off to kill her, but she's not thinking straight, and I don't know what to do, and—" Reyna broke off into weeping. Annabeth had never seen her cry before, and now Thalia was crying too, probably frightened at the General's reaction.
The entire jet, three-quarters of the way full fell silent as Reyna and Thalia grieved, grieving themselves. Some ducked their heads in respect, even Percy. Leo recharged the radar to hunt down Hylla, quiet as well.
The corpse was unmistakable, and the silence was unbearable.
At Reyna's feet laid none other than Artemis Olympus, Queen of the Amazons.
Drew
"Octavian's dead?" Her head snapped up to look at the man her parents had allied themselves with before their untimely deaths.
Luke sent shivers down her spine. He hadn't betrothed himself again after the whole shitshow, but something told her that if Aphrodite had still been there, she would've paired the two of them together without a second glance. Aphrodite's death was somewhat comforting, if only to avoid such a fatal mistake.
Cecily glanced at her from across the room. Bombs exploded outside, and Drew cringed at the sound, uneasy by Luke's lack of reaction.
"Indeed," was all Luke said.
"How?" Drew pursed her lips, secretly relieved. That man had been a bastard anyways.
"Do you really care?" Luke drawled, eyeing her coldly.
"No," she agreed, albeit reluctantly. Drew chewed her bottom lip, her fist tensing up as another stampede of guards rushed past the throne room. "What's the plan?" she finally caved, scrutinizing the Boy King.
"No plan," Luke countered.
Drew bit back a remark. Luke would not be as forgiving as Octavian, and certainly not a pushover. "That's impossible."
Luke was still. If it wasn't for his shallow breathing, she might've not even believed he was anything more than a statue. It was unsettling.
"They surprise-attacked us. How could I have planned?" he challenged. Luke rose to his feet slowly, lazily, and without having to demand anything of the others, everyone else at the table jumped to their feet, following his lead. "I have some business to take care of," he suddenly announced, and Drew's stomach twisted at the look in his icy blue eyes.
"Sir!" Cecily cried out from the opposite end of the table, and all Drew saw were the backs of the royals' heads as they stared at her for interrupting. "What should we do?"
Drew silently prayed for her girlfriend to shut the fuck up.
Luke shrugged. "Fight. Or don't. I have a handle on this," he was confident, which only made Drew feel worse. She hoped Annabeth knew what she was doing.
Annabeth
Annabeth didn't know what she was doing.
"The water rafts!" she remembered, but it was a stretch. Another bomb shattered the side of the plane. It was a small jet, suited for only 40 or passengers. It would not survive this attack. Luke had decided to fight back. The aircraft shuddered at the impact, and people were thrown everywhere. Annabeth's vice grip did not leave the side of the cockpit doors.
"Calbourne forces are too strong in the water," Percy shot down her idea immediately, shaking his head. "We have a better chance in a goddamn crash landing."
Rachel, who had a terrible fear of heights, was starting to look as green as her eyes. "We're going to crash?" Chaos erupted around them, pure panic filling up their comrades. Piper screamed as she fell back with the force.
Annabeth was beginning to lose her head here. Red lights flashed to check the engine, and Leo was losing control quickly, even as him and Percy tried to put their minds together and salvage what they could, or at least, lessen the adverse effects of the sure-to-be traumatic landing. She couldn't think with the alarms blaring.
She gave the jet two more blows. Tensing up, she realized what had to happen. "Brace yourselves!" she commanded, running, sliding with the tilt of the plane, to the front of the aircraft. "Percy!" The casualties would be worse than she could've ever imagined possible.
If they hit the ground… there was no chance of survivors. There would be none to mourn them.
Annabeth's shoulder painfully slammed into stiff metal at another blow. And then all of a sudden, the floor was dropping under her.
Percy involuntarily crashed into her in an attempt to steady her. The aircraft lurched, nose-down, and Annabeth's wide eyes snapped to the gauge on the dashboard. The altitude numbers were dropping at a frightening rate. She scrambled backwards, pulling Percy with her against gravity, as all the Amazons and Canadians tried to make their way to higher ground, to the back of the plane where the impact could maybe be a little less.
Annabeth squeezed her eyes shut. So this would be her end. Falling from the sky to be smashed down by the earth in a land she'd never loved. Fate was cruel.
She blinked up at Percy, who was hovering over her. His eyes were wide, but resigned, and she hated it, hated how he was strong in the end when they were all going to die. She wished she could've pulled him towards him, kissed him, told him she loved him more than anything else in this world. Percy seemed to know what she was thinking. He forcefully tugged her forward as the air rushed around them. People were screaming, holding each other for dear life. She was enveloped in his comforting scent immediately. He smelled like the ocean, like always, like summer. Annabeth held him just as tight as he held her, praying he knew what she wished she could've said.
Time was not a force to be reckoned with, and even as her world went up in flames, she couldn't help but think she had not done enough, that it would never be enough.
He glanced up at her, and all thoughts flew out of her head. Just his look was enough. Without saying a word, he was accepting her apology and offering one of his own. The lights of the fires outside left her mind, and so did Thasite's castle's guards. Their approaching, dreadful fate was not on her radar anymore. All she saw was him. Even in the dark, his eyes seemed to glow.
When the plane screeched to a stop, out of nowhere, dangling midair, Annabeth let out a scream along with a few others. She blinked, careful not to rock the aircraft. No one moved, staring at each other in awe and fear. They were white as sheets, and some looked so sick, some were sobbing. With extreme trepidation, she carefully peered out the window. Annabeth was just able to make out the ground below them. They couldn't have been more than a couple tens of feet above the ground. Hanging by thread, yet again.
She trembled against Percy. Somehow this felt worse than crashing to their deaths. Why had they stopped?
"Percy—"
"Don't move," he growled, and she looked up, following his line of vision.
Her answer came not even a minute later. The side of the aircraft was pried off by metal claws. Annabeth scrambled back with the rest of the crowd, but there was no escaping their fate. She nearly fell, unbalanced by all that had happened to her.
The sight was enough to make her want to crawl back into the death-trap of a flying machine and pitch herself off a cliff. Oh, please just kill me. Have mercy.
Guards flooded around her, shooting rapidly. Two men hiding in the back fell dead, blood pooling around them like their own personal lakes.
Rachel threw up immediately, and there was mass panic as they screamed. Annabeth felt like her soul had exited her body, and she was watching this scene far-off wild mild, timid fascination. Her stun left her however, when a guard make a beeline for her.
Over half of them must have been dead by now. The ground was littered with bodies, gunshots still ringing. They were searching, she realized. For her. She froze. And who else? Percy, surely and Piper too. Nico, if they knew he was here. Nico! Annabeth resisted the urge to whip her head around and make sure he wasn't dead. She prayed he would hide among the dead bodies, faking his death to live, but quickly changed her mind as guards shot already dead victims over and over and over again. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, horrified. These actions were too clean… too planned. There was only one man she knew who could remember the details like that. Her nightmare had finally come to life.
"Loose."
The voice felt like a lightning bolt. Annabeth threw off Percy's grip and vaulted to her feet, sprinting to the edge of jet. Before she could hit the side, the bars dropped, and her momentum carried her too far. Annabeth stumbled, hitting the half-frozen grass, skidding on her knees. Someone kicked her in the face, sending her sprawling in the mud. Annabeth shot a loose dagger from her belt in the direction, but her attacker was too fast. The guard's knee hit her back, pinning her so forcefully he knocked the air from her lungs. Fingers closed around her throat.
Annabeth clawed at his grip, digging in her fingernails, but it seemed to have no effect. He lifted her without any effort at all, forcing her to scramble on her toes to keep from strangling herself. She tried to scream, but it was useless. Panic knifed through Annabeth, and her eyes widened, searching for a way out of this, ever the nimble fighter.
Instead, she saw only her friends, still confined in the cage the guards had built on instruction. They pulled at the bars in vain.
Through a bruising eye, Annabeth watched metallic snakes lock around Percy, Nico, Piper, and the others, binding their wrists, and ankles, and necks. Even Reyna, strong as iron, had no defense against the rods. Thalia fought as best as she could, silencing one guard after another. But there were too many. When one fell, another took its place. Only Percy could truly resist, smashing down every bar that came close. But he had just fallen out of the sky. He was disoriented at best and bleeding from a cut above the eye.
One bar cracked him across the back of the head, knocking him out cold. His eyelids fluttered, and Annabeth willed him to wake. Instead, the silver wrapped around him, guards tightening him with every passing second. The one at his throat was worst of all, dipping in deep, enough to strangle.
"Stop!" Annabeth choked out, turning toward the voice. Now she fought with her own meager muscles, trying to break the guards' grips the old-fashioned way. Nothing could've been more fruitless. "Stop!"
"You are in no position to bargain, Annabeth."
Luke was coy keeping to the darkness, to his shadows. She watched his silhouette approach, noting the spiky crown on his head. When he stepped into the starlight, Annabeth felt a brief twinge of satisfaction. His face did not match his confident drawl. There were bruise-like circles beneath his eyes, and a sheen of sweat that coated his forehead. His mother's death has taken its toll.
"I have a trade for you!" she desperately cried out, albeit choked and coughing.
The hands around Annabeth's throat loosened a little, allowing her to speak.
The bars around Percy's wrists reddened, glowing with heat. She wished she could tell him to
lie still, to let her do what she had to do. To let her save him as he saved her so many times.
"Let him go. Let them all go!" she pleaded.
Luke stared her down. It was terrifying, and she could feel herself going numb at the expression on his face. She hadn't seen him in so long, and she couldn't fathom it anymore. This was the boy who betrayed her, and this was the boy whose mother she'd sent into the ground, but not before parading her body around to initiate the next civil war. She had never known fear until that very moment, not truly.
"I don't think you understand what a trade is, Annabeth," Luke scoffed. "You have to give something too," he patronized.
At Percy's side, Piper stilled. She knew Annabeth better than most and understood the blonde's expression plainly. Slowly, Piper's jaw tightened, and she shook his head from side to side.
Annabeth didn't look at Piper. This was the only way. She had wracked her brain, and she would not make it home in any situation. At least this way, everyone else would be safe. She could hear the passed Queen's voice in her head from the boardroom meeting. "You believe in this?" Artemis inquired, her face expressionless. "Yes," Annabeth confessed. "You will back this plan even if it fails?" Artemis scrutinized her.
Annabeth was empty of tears, small at Luke's feet, forced to her knees. She could hear her own voice in her head, quavering, but sure. "Yes." Annabeth licked her lips, suddenly feeling parched, but Luke just watched her expectantly.
"I will surrender," Annabeth breathed, and it felt like she was locking herself up for good. "I will return. I'll be your prisoner." She looked down, unable to see his face, unable to look at her friends being tortured by Luke and his men. She felt Luke's cold gaze on her, and everything in her tensed.
Off to the side, she heard Percy's sharp intake of breath. Or perhaps he was simply gasping for air. Looking down felt like bowing, like giving up. But this was her death sentence, and it was her only bargain. She was their sole leverage, their only hope of survival. In this twisted way, Annabeth prayed she had finally given enough. That, for all the sacrifices others had made for her, sacrifices that made her heart twist like it was being stabbed, she had finally given up her own price for this cause, she had finally proved her worth, her loyalty.
"I see a gilded cage for one." Tiresias' words echoed in her head. How foolish she had been to believe Octavian's greed was her punishment. But Tiresias had been wrong. This was a cage for two, and she wasn't sure if she was more afraid to be locked in the cage Luke had built for them both, or outside, where the public's eye kept her pinned down.
Despite the sharp, painful pounding in her head, at the same time, Annabeth felt sick and twisted relief. So many sacrifices had been made for her, for her choices. It was only fair that she took her turn and accepted the punishment fate had in store.
Annabeth swallowed hard, and it felt like she was trying to swallow a stone or a scratchy board of wood.
As strange as it was, the only thing flitting in her mind was an image of her older brother, of Malcolm, proud and brave. To everyone else, he was this King, this beloved Prince, this figure that was just out of reach, like a God. But to her, he was just her older brother who loved her unconditionally and looked out for her even when she felt as though she didn't deserve his affection. He was too good, too good for someone like her.
She wondered mildly if this was how he always felt: worried, anxious, protective, responsible. She'd never had a younger sibling, someone to watch out for. She was the baby of the family, the apple of the kingdom's eyes. But then and there, her throat dry, a guard's double-wicked blade pressed to Nico neck, she knew her decision had already been made for her the day she was born.
House Pevanshire were good and faithful people. Bianca had been a loving older sister when she was alive and knowing what she knew of Malcolm, of older siblings, she knew the hell they went through for their little siblings. Nico had been her sole purpose every day, her only reason to fight. House Pevanshire had been nothing but faithful to House Ashington and though Nico was a little shy, reserved even, she refused to let him die so easily. He was younger than her by a year, just a boy, and it didn't matter if she was herself just a girl. She wasn't even considering any other option; there was no other choice.
Nico's dark eyes were wide, but serious. He was silently imploring her to turn away, to let him die, for the good of the country, to let them all burn up in flames together. But she couldn't look away, quietly horrified. She owed it to Bianca, to all those she'd let die, no—to all those she'd inadvertently killed. She could not let a revolution fall for her freedom. No—freedom would be a small price to pay.
Luke's face remained impassive, but now, after all they'd been through, she could read him easily, and he, her.
Annabeth supposed they were the only two who could truly see each other for what they were: monsters, both of them. He wanted this more than anything else, she knew.
Then Luke's hand was warm beneath her chin, burning with a sickly heat. Daring to touch her was a stark message. He did not fear the warrior girl, or at least he wanted to seem that way, but if he had come out of his castle to seize her herself, then it revealed the truth. To some extent, at least, Luke feared her, little Annie who had taken the world by storm.
He forced her to look at him, and she saw nothing of the boy he once was.
There was only darkness.
"Annabeth, no! Don't be an idiot!" She barely heard Piper, pleading now. There was a dull buzzing in her head and it was driving her wild.
All of a sudden, she could see Tiresias in her mind, the memory vivid like it was just yesterday that she had been in the hospital, unchaining the milky-eyed man. Ironic, considering she had found her own cuffs.
"Attend to your own fate, Annabeth Chase," Tiresias warned.
She could practically hear her voice wavering in response: "And that is?" Annabeth's eyes closed for a moment. All of a sudden, she understood, and she had never wished before in her life not to understand until then.
His answer haunted her even now. "To rise. And rise alone."
The blonde's eyes fluttered open, and she shot her gaze up at Luke, her face expressionless. Luke read her well, searching for a lie that didn't exist.
Despite his posturing, she realized that he was afraid of what she'd done, of the Amazon Princess' words, and the effect they had. He had come here to kill her, to put her in the ground. But he had found a greater prize. And she'd given it to him willingly. He was a betrayer by nature, but this was a bargain he wanted to uphold. Annabeth saw it in his eyes; she had heard it in his empty promises; she had felt it in his kiss. He wanted her more than any other blood, and he would do anything to hold her leash again.
"I am a man of my word," Luke had vowed not long ago in one of his many notes, his voice chilling her beneath her skin even though parchment. She pondered over his words, only then realizing how true they were.
He'd promised to win this whole thing—and here he was, the Boy King; he'd promised that he would no longer be a shadow—and here he was, the flame of House Calbourne, everyone's eyes on him and only ever on him; finally, he'd promised that this wasn't the end, that he would track her down, that he wasn't finished with her quite yet. And here she was, begging him to spare Nico's life, to spare them all, willing to submit herself to him for the sake of others.
And then she thought of his lies. Her face felt warm, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. He'd never explicitly said he would spare her, that he loved her, that he was with her always. What a fool she'd been. All the blood drained from her face.
Luke, she realized, always chose his words carefully, ever the tactful strategist. He only shared what would help his cause, effectively manipulating everyone around him. And she too, she'd fallen victim to his charm like the rest. Whatever she felt for him, she imagined it was infinitely worse for Percy, for his half-brother in blood and nothing else.
Piper strained against her restraints, but it was no use at all. "Don't let her!" Piper yelled behind her, but Annabeth didn't dare look at her. "Percy, do something!" She wanted her to be remembered as strong, in control, standing on her feet and braving the worst of the storms. Not like this.
"Do we have a deal?" Annabeth was reduced to a beggar, pleading with Luke to put her back in his cage. Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears. "Are you a man of your word?"
Above her, Luke smiled as she quoted him. His teeth gleamed.
The others were shouting, shaking in their bonds. She heard none of it. Her mind had closed to all but the trade she was ready to make.
Luke's hand moved from her chin to her throat. His grip tightened. Softer than his men, his invincible soldiers, but so much more painful.
"We have a deal."
…
Annabeth wasn't sure how much time had passed, only that the silence was deafening. Days, months, she couldn't be sure of anything anymore, only that her heart was still beating, and she wished it wouldn't.
She allowed her personal guards to drag her by her cuffed arms and legs, leading her outside onto the stage. Angry royals and Thasite-goers jeered, but all she could see was Luke.
She hadn't seen him since that day, since she'd begged him to free her comrades, to free Nico, and Percy, and Piper, and Reyna, and Thalia, and Rachel, and Leo, and everyone. He had sent her off with his guards to her personal hell, and that had been that.
Now the blonde stared at the spot near his feet and she slumped with understanding. This was her own doing. She had once again walked into his cage willingly. His expression was stony, a deadly calm, masking his fury. Annabeth had lost her fight the moment they'd sealed her deal, the second he'd locked her in a prison—a prison of words and promises. Her pride had always been her greatest flaw, but in front of him like some sort of lapdog, wrapped with his leash and chains, even her pride had crumbled and sank below sea level.
Something gleamed in his hands, and her stomach sunk. This is where he would kill her, a dagger to the heart, a public execution.
When she stepped closer, however, she realized it was something else entirely, something much more humiliating: a collar. He certainly knew how to hit her where it hurt.
Luke sealed her fate with a soft click, his expression concealed anger.
"You paraded my mother's body," he whispered in her ear, his voice chilling. "And now I will do the same to you."
Cages kept monsters out, but they trapped monsters in as well. She had long forgotten, perhaps naively, what it meant to belong entirely to someone else. A royal was public property; private property was another feat altogether.
His finger pointed at the ground, and it was white, paler than Annabeth remembered. Bowing her head, Annabeth dared not look him in the eye; his message was clear as day.
She knelt.
A/N: PSA: This A/N is excessively long bc I'm addressing some concerned reviews from last chapter. If you want to skip over this, feel free. In fact, I encourage you to do so. This is brutally honest because I only want to address these concerns once and for all, and I want to nip this issue in the bud before more of you worry over nothing. For those of you who were the concerned individuals, this is for you:
So I was rereading the last chapter after posting it (like the responsible author I am), and I was sooo stupid I can't. Basically, I was reading the last scene and my dumb brain at 4am is like what if there's a corpse under your bed. Right. Now. *proceeds to hide under covers like a fucking five yo* XP Like why do I even do this. The dead Octavian scene wasn't even remotely scary; what am I actually doing with my life. (This is probably a side effect of my binging murder mysteries too much tbh.)
Speaking of freaking yourself out (I'm so smooth ik), y'all had a shit ton of fun freaking yourselves out in the reviews. *peers over my imaginary, half-moon spectacles*
I'm not depressed, sweetpeas, as hard as that may be to believe. (At least I don't think I am lmao what do I know.) Maybe I shouldn't be that honest anymore, though, bc the first time I said something without a hint of amusement, y'all freaked.
It's true I make many jokes, and I know many of them are probably darker than the average person's sense of humor, but that's just my personality. It's a "perk" of being a born-cynic, I suppose. I wouldn't even peg myself a pessimist in all honesty, only a realist, but I can certainly see how that would seem dark to others. (*inserts awkward humor* What can I say? I'm a Hades kid. *awk finger guns*)
The truth is fanfic isn't about me.
It's about you guys. It's about what I can do to make your day a little less shitty.
You guys are my gift, and I write to serve you, not myself. This is your story, not mine, if that makes any sense. My stories are for my readers because I like to acknowledge that my stories are bigger than me, and bigger than worldly problems. I'm not depressed or anything, but if I was, it wouldn't matter because this is not about me; does that make sense? The world does not revolve around me, around my failures, my victories, and everything in between. You don't need to know me to read my stories. You are under no obligation to worry about me, to care for me, to acknowledge my existence, to review (which is part of the reason I never ask for reviews in my A/Ns), etc. to like my stories. I am a faceless creature who types up stories in the thick of night, my eyes glazing over after long hours. Don't worry about me. Please. It's not worth it, I promise, but you are. You guys are worth everything to me.
Therefore, if you are depressed, and you need to talk, my PMs are always open, you guys know that. But I'll be okay, mkay? I don't want anyone unnecessarily worrying about me, especially not over some stupid shit I wrote at like 4:45am when I was tired af and more unfiltered than usual. I don't mean to burden any of you. It kills me that some of you guys are sitting up, writing out long reviews to ask me if I'm okay. I'm not worth that time. (And I swear, I don't mean that in a depressing way. I'm just being real with you guys.) I'm temporary, like everything else. This story is temporary, and it will come to an eventual end. There will be a day when I no longer write FF. I don't know when, but it will come for me like it comes for every other author out there, perhaps when my responsibilities finally catch up with me. And pain is temporary, which is why if you need somebody, I've got you. Always.
I'm sorry if I let you guys down, and I'm sorry if this is your let-down, but I can't talk about myself if you guys are going to panic. I can't do that to you guys. I love answering questions, and I'm an honest person, which is why I responded to Lilly's question how I did, but I won't hurt you with my sheer carelessness if I can help it. You guys have lives. Don't waste it on this. Worry about my characters, worry bc I'm an evil author w evil plans, not about me.
I appreciate the concern, I really do, and fuck if you guys aren't way sweeter than I deserve, but other people have it much worse than I do.
Until next time~
Kit xx
QueenCat: I'm changing the password since you've decided to tarnish my reputation (and the small piece left of my sanity). :D Why would you cause me so much anxiety lol :') (You just had to embarrass me, didn't you? Plus you shouldn't even be reading my story smh. You know that's awkward on so many levels.) Imma tell Veebha that you got a zero on your essay if you don't get the hell off my account XP You got yours back sIX MONTHS AGO, LAUREN.
I literally looked like such a narcissistic little fuck. I suppose everyone would know that review doesn't belong to me though. I'd never use such an atrocious amount of exclamation points. Perks of being dead inside lmao. And YES, I DID HAVE TO RELEASE A PUBLIC STATEMENT. Don't fuck w me, Lauren X3 :D (Love ya, you little shit. But srsly, I will cut you until, pizza girl, if you mess w my account again.)
DaughterofAthena223: Sorry about all the mess reviews sandwiching yours smh. In other news, happy belated birthday! That's so awesome that the coincidence worked out like that. I'm glad you liked the chapter; I felt really bad that I released such an incoherent chapter, only to find out it was a special day for you. I hope your birthday went well. :)
Guest: Okay, so I kinda addressed this in my A/N, but seriously I'm not diagnosed with depression or anything. It's just the way I am, my dude. My sadness is au naturel, and I'd advise that you don't look too much into it, or it'll drive you crazy. However, I deeply appreciate that you'd reach out to me like that simply because you had a hunch I needed some help. Thank you so much for the support, and thank you for being such a sweet human being? Like that's so sweet? That was literally so nice of you to just reach out to a stranger on the internet like that, and honestly I hope you have some good karma coming to you. I'll be okay, homie, I promise. :)
Ialmostforgot: I'm glad you think it's funny bc I'm about to go kick Lauren's ass. She knows she shouldn't be on my account.
Basically what happened is her parents made her get off FF for some time, so I loaned her my account to save stories and stuff, but she got her account back a while back, and she transferred her stories back, deleting off my list. We had agreed she wouldn't review w my account, but either she was messing w me, or she messed up lol.
Lilly: Welp, I addressed this in the ending A/N, obviously. I know it kinda spun out of control, but thank you for the question, regardless. And yes, I always try to make my replies worthwhile. Like I said in the A/N, you guys are worth everything to me. I hope the New Year brings you good fortune as well.
Reader: jEsus wOmAn. That's a longass review, and I feel so special 3 lmao. Ikrrr. That royal lifestyle was hella toxic, and now they're all fucked-up together. :D Ahh emotional trauma. My favorite. ME TOO. I'm thinking I'm gonna make an extra, bonus chapter sometime that doesn't correspond w this plot at all, but it'll just be a series of short flashbacks from everyone's childhoods. Maybe cute Nico and Percy shit, sprinkle in a little Malcolm and Annabeth awesomeness, Nico and Bianca, etc, but I'm not sure yet. I can already see Nico being a judgemental little kid, rolling his eyes and giving hella sass to Percy lmaoo. And let's not even beGIN to discuss all the troublemaker shit Annabeth probably did. Yissssss. Solangelo has GOTTA have a happy ending. It's the only way to complete their fate and do it justice. :P I feel like Nico's found a balance now. He's still his depressing, brutally honest self, but he's learned to accept rare happiness when he gets it, instead of denying it, and I think that's beautiful. Oh. Oh. That would've made a LOT more sense. Shit, I shoulda made it just a head instead. It woulda been a nice nod to the Medusa myth, and it's much more practical… (I might edit the chapter later and change that.) Lmao right. How do you beat the birthday present of trauma :D It's pRICELESS. "This is about the get really long" - me when I'm writing my evil plots. But fineeee, let's discuss my self-critical ass lol.
I'm laughing bc… you're offended by my regret? That's hilarious. But er… thank you for the praise. *awk finger guns* (It's moments like this where I'm obviously so gen Z I can't even—) I feel like I'm being lectured rn, and honestly I'm kinda living for it? You remind me SO much of a friend of mine XP Ngl, I totally had no idea what car scene you were talking about, and I had to go back and find it. I lowkey don't remember half my stories lol. (Honestly, you could probably be proud of how goddamn long your review is, my fellow hypocrite. It had me shooketh.) Don't make me emotional omggg what are these feelings. Gross. But honestly, you are so sweet, my dude. ;-; I feel like I rationally know that those emotions meant something at that time in my life, but like you said, it's just so cringy now, and it makes me realize how stupid I was. (Not that it's changed drastically lol). I suppose it's guilt, too, knowing that you let some people off the hook way too easily when you were younger and gave people who really cared about you a tough time. :P But you're right, of course. It's the shitty writing and stupidity that got me to where I am now, and ten months down the line, this story will be outdated as well, but it's part of the process of growing. I think it will take time to get over regret, but I love your review nonetheless. Your wisdom is much appreciated, senpai~
OMG YOU TOOK THE MYERS-BRIGG TEST TOO? I loveeee that thing. I got INTP-T, better known as Logician (which explains a lot, actually). I'm dECEASED. I said you remind me of my friend, and she's the same one who got mediator lol. Honestly, mediators are so goddamn sweet, and it explains so much about you. Imma go read up on mediators again after this bc I'm so excited now. Ah yes, my fellow philosopher. It really hits you in the strangest moments, doesn't it? Makes your whole world feel surreal. It definitely is me too. :D No, no, you're making perfect sense. Thank you for sharing; I love getting to know you guys. Some of you guys do the coolest things, and I can't even begin to fathom it. (One time, I met a boy on FF who makes animal-shaped cupcakes for a children's hospital, and another one I can remember off the top of my head is a girl who's been rapping Eminem since she was like eight, and I kinda stan tbh?) I'm glad you didn't get as freaked out by that review response as everyone else, and just sorta agreed with it more. I obvi addressed it in my ending A/N, so I won't talk about it anymore, but I'm glad you don't think I'm like losing my mind or something lmao. (Even though that's debatable at this point XP) Thanks so much for reviewing!
Deeksha.27: I'm ridiculously, almost nonsensically and perhaps selfishly, excited that your first comment was on my story! Thank you for being such a dedicated reader who takes time out of their day to leave behind a comment.
Indeed many consider death "suicide talk," and I'm so glad that you see where Nico/I am coming from in my story. I love that line by the way, if I may say so myself haha. Yes, our world would be a more beautiful place in my humble opinion. If we lived every day not knowing which would be our last (not in a morbid way, of course), would we not accomplish all we've ever dreamed of, would everyone not die fulfilled to a certain extent, would we not be kinder to one another and to ourselves? Oh, yes I love that quote! I'm sure I've heard it before, but it's definitely been a while. Nico abides by a similar philosophy, and I'm v excited that you like his personality. I've definitely put some effort into his character development, and I'm glad he's standing out to you. Thank you for reviewing again and take care! :)
Guest: I addressed it in the A/N, obviously, but thank you for reaching out. Don't worry about not reviewing. Like I said, my stories are for you, not for me. You are under no obligation to review. :P