Long Live The King

by Fangirl Shrieks

"You're playing with fire, my Lady," he seethed, "and you might get burned." Feeling brave, Annabeth raised her chin in defiance. "You can't get burned, my Lord, if you're the flame." OR When Queen Athena's ball to unite four kingdoms takes an unexpected turn, Annabeth finds herself in a twisted game of love, war, lies, revenge, and betrayal. And she doesn't like to lose. Royal AU.

31. The End of The Beginning

A/N: We hit 100 favorites. Um. That's crazy, my dudes. Thank youuuu

I'm ridiculously proud of this chapter. (I can already see all of you freaking out. Since when do I like my own stuff? EYE—dOn't know).

This chapter is entirely in Annabeth's perspective. It's only fitting that it ends with the girl who started it all, don't you think?

I do regret not writing a scene from Luke's POV. I was thinking about doing that in this chapter, ending it with him as well, but I had too many words. I would've liked to write his thinking on Percy, on his mother, on Annabeth, on the father he helped assassinate, on everything. His POV would have only made you feel for him more.

(Also, yO GIRL IS A STATE FINALIST FOR ONE OF THOSE MANY COMPETITIONS I MENTIONED. I—did not expect anything tbh.)

(PS: this chapter is super long. Sorry? It's like more than 12,000 words excluding A/Ns and stuff. And I still didn't say everything I wanted. Wtf. #write like you're running out of time. Also, can we just talk about how this title circles back to the first chapter's title, and it's just so nostalgic, and I'm gonna miss this story.)

Disclaimer: All rights remain. I never edit, but I eXTRA didn't edit this time bc I was so excited to post. Feel free to call out my mistakes in the reviews lmao.

Annabeth

"I swear… you're as reckless, as obstinate as ever. And I didn't think I'd meet you in such a place. You look more energetic than I thought; I'm relieved." Percy wistfully tried to meet her eyes, but she adamantly refused.

She stared first at his sword, not at the man himself—perhaps, she suspected, his presence and very much aliveness was too much for her mortal brain to handle right then. His sword was clean and shiny in its sheath, devoid of all blood and gore. At first she was surprised—how had he gotten in without a speck of blood? There were so many guards circling Luke's fortress. Even she had to knock out so many guards and probably kill a few. The blood stained her hands, but it was nothing in comparison to the weight of their death on her shoulders. Still, she was curious… and afraid—not of him anymore, maybe, but of what he was capable of.

"Brother." It was Percy.

The word was stiff, unfriendly, uninviting, just as it should've been. Poisonous. Annabeth looked back to Luke, suddenly remembering where she was and that even if she was all Percy saw, she was not the only person in this room. Kronos was terrified for his life, but she was hardly looking at him. The electricity practically crackled between both brothers. Luke's white knuckles gripped to his throne, and Percy's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword.

And between them both, she stood.

She was the source of their great divide, the wrench in plans of gold castles and fine wine and a beautiful ending.

Annabeth stumbled back out of their line of direct sight, but Percy's eyes only followed her. He stood distant from her, but he protected her with his burning gaze. It made her squirm.

"How…?" she finally croaked out when silence fell upon them all. She glanced up at Percy, desperate for answers. How had he survived when she had seen him keel over? "And why?" Her voice cracked despite herself. Luke's demeanor hardened, and something like remorse passed over Perseus' face. Why had he abandoned her for a month and a half? Why had he not sent a message of his survival as soon as he was safe? Did he think she would've forgotten him so quickly? Did he think she hadn't been haunted every moment, both awake and asleep, by the emptiness without him? Did he think she didn't fucking care at all? How could he make her fall in love with her and then just up and leave? He had promised. How dare he mess with her feelings like that?

Annabeth balled her fists up by her sides, stuck somewhere in the moral shades of grey, conflicted between anger and misery and sobbing and everything in between.

"You must have had help," Annabeth accused. "Who? Who helped you out?"

"You don't want to know."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" She resisted the urge to punch him in the face. Maybe she'd punch them both. Line up both Calbournes and stab them both for all the ways in which they made her crazy, and then maybe she'd apologize for dragging them on this sinking boat with her.

"Drew," he conceded. "Who else?"

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him, her heart skipping a beat. "She's been missing in action for over forty-eight hours. Where is she?" It felt like betrayal. Drew had hurt her so many times, and Percy had just gone along with her, no questions asked? He hadn't even contacted her. He'd just been off with Drew god knows where doing god knows what. It stung like a fresh graze.

There was no answer. "I can't tell you."

"You can't tell me?" Annabeth was very aware of the strain in her voice. Luke's eyes flickered to hers, something akin to pity filling the sad blue. It was as if he'd known it would come to this. In a way, he had. He had warned her in that bathtub when he'd announced his wedding plans to her, had confessed his fucked love. Luke had warned her to hide her heart, had warned her Perseus would hurt her like Luke himself had, only in a different way. And he was right. Again.

"I promised," Percy whispered, his mouth turning down in realization at his own words.

He had made a promise to her first. He had promised her the world the first night he pressed her against the Epresh castle walls and kissed her like the devil was chasing him. He had implied forever, honesty, hardship but perseverance, and when he had faked his death without another word, he had shattered her trust in him instantly. His promises were worth the dust on her feet.

Annabeth physically took a step back, disgusted with Luke for being right, and Percy for fucking her over, even if on accident, and mostly with herself for ever, ever believing she could trust a Calbourne. Athena had been right from the start. They were snakes, all of them.

"Annabeth," Percy began, but she drew back into herself, stubborn and hurt. He stood back, his hand dropping to his side. Perhaps he realized then he had already lost her beyond recovery.

Percy looked out at the people staring at him, their jaws on the floor. "I'm sorry for the uproar. I would have liked to talk it through at ease, but I have to do what I came back here to do. I came to straighten up the last nineteen years of my life. It came as a shock to me that I achieved this goal much faster as an outsider than as an insider." He turned to her. "How many times have you been hurt by my name, by the Calbourne brand?"

The 'L' on her collarbone stung at his unfortunate choice of words. She was quiet.

"I went off the grid to figure it out myself, and you not knowing… it would only keep you more safe."

A weak explanation, she internally rationalized. Luke had gotten to his feet by now, only an inch shorter than Percy. They would be formidable enemies, but Annabeth knew deep down as she had always known that Percy would never have the guts to kill Luke when push came to shove. This wasn't a fairytale, and it was about time she quit chasing fantasies and stupid boys and people who didn't follow through. The only way to get anything she wanted in this world was to do it herself.

She didn't even remember the exact moment she had fallen for the role of damsel in distress. She didn't even remember trying out. Perhaps it had been one of those nights, not any one in particular, but just the contentedness that came with the blend of them all, when she had looked into his sea green eyes and submitted herself to his protection and sweet words. Perhaps it had the evening she gripped to the side of Luke's bathtub, averting her eyes, and he had confessed it had been all his fault, their downfall. All she knew was that she didn't want this part anymore, and she would do anything she had to to escape this part in this play. Plays were for children.

As if he sensed he was losing her, "it's not your fault you couldn't find Drew. Nobody else would think of looking for her where I did."

"So, what? You dragged yourself away, bloody and beaten, all the way to some neverland?" Annabeth coldly demanded.

"She came to me," Percy insisted. "She needed something… she was willing to trade."

"She was at the battle?" The disbelief was evident in Annabeth's voice, clear as day. Luke froze across from her, as uncomfortable by this tidbit of information as she was. Drew was dangerous, no doubt about it, but to sneak into a battle unseen and undetected? She was worse than Annabeth had ever thought.

Percy tapped the hilt of Riptide. "She came in peace."

Annabeth scoffed. "Drew comes in peace for nothing."

Percy hardened. "Nevertheless, I will not disclose her location. Think of me what you will." But his voice softened, trailing off, almost like he was disappointed in her reaction which was just fucking stupid because he left her. He did not have the right to feel wistful, to miss her, to need her. He fucking left her.

They were standing in a triangle, circling round the center fountain. A marble fish sprung from the center, spitting out crystal water of Thasite.

"Why dare show your face here?" Luke demanded, turning to his brother. "Why wouldn't you just hide out for the rest of time like a coward?"

Percy gritted his teeth. "I have something, something I think will interest you greatly."

Luke was quiet.

Percy tossed a disk towards a nearby guard who caught it out of fear. "Play it," Percy lazily demanded, but his features sharpened in the light. The guard hastily slipped the disk into a screen.

Annabeth's eyes narrowed as the blurry recording came into focus. There was a girl with blonde cu—oh, that was her. Her heart skipped a beat in recognition. Glittery blue eyes seemed to stare into her soul. Medusa's. She remembered this moment, Percy's sword held to his father's neck at Medusa's demand and Luke's indifference. But there had been no videographic evidence. Medusa had cut the tapes. So what was this? She didn't dare look at Percy, focusing intently on the screen. She wasn't sure if it was because she didn't want to see the hurt on his face as he relived the traumatic experience, or if she just didn't want to see him anymore; he made her weak in every sense of the word.

In the blink of an eye, Medusa's sword cut through Poseidon's throat. The audio was a little dusty, but it was most certainly decipherable. Poseidon's death had been no accident, and now the clip only proved it. Luke's eyes hardened in understanding, and he glared down the aisle at his brother.

"It's an edit," Luke spat. "There's no real evidence."

Annabeth internally confirmed this. Percy had been forced to kill his father. Medusa had never stabbed Poseidon directly. It was indeed an edit, but a crystal clean one. If she hadn't already known the truth, witnessed it with her very own eyes, she might have believed the video.

Percy shrugged carelessly, but she saw the way his muscles tensed up. "Maybe." He shot Luke a half-smile that made Annabeth's stomach churn. His teeth gleamed like Poseidon's when he did that, like a monster, like… like someone she tried to forget. "But people will believe what they want to believe, Lukey. You know that as well as I do." And people had never trusted Medusa, still loyal to the 'dead' Queen Sally before her. If Medusa supposedly cut off Poseidon's head—a truth the public would only be all too willing to believe—then how could they trust a snake's son? Simple. They couldn't.

"I could set this world on fire and call it rain," Luke bitterly agreed, quoting something he'd said back in the arena when Percy and Annabeth had been friends with him, when she had been living in the illusion that Luke was wonderful, and Percy was wrong, and Luke looked out for her in a way less twisted than he did now.

"So do we have a deal?" Percy drawled.

"A deal?" Annabeth squeaked out despite herself. She wished for Chiron now, for someone to explain to what was happening. She was way in over her head in this game; Chiron had been right. She didn't belong here in a world of implied lies and betrayal. She didn't know what she was doing.

Percy swiftly ignored her interruption, never once breaking eye contact with his brother. They traded silent words, staring at each other for a long time, never once moving a single muscle.

Luke barked out a sharp laugh, sending shivers down Annabeth's spine. "You think I'll give up everything my mother died for over a child's edit?" But he was afraid, so very afraid. And Percy could see it, could spot his lie from miles away. The hairs on the back of Annabeth's neck stood up.

"No," Percy agreed. "I must admit, though, I was curious." He was bitter, so very bitter. Two bitter brothers and a girl caught in between, the gas that started the flame—no, the fucking wildfire. "I wanted to see your face. I wanted to know you were gone forever. I wanted to make sure…" Percy trailed off, something more vulnerable peeking out from behind his clever, cruel facade—or at least, Annabeth hoped it was all a facade; there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind, reminding her of Percy's innate cruelty. "And I don't believe it," Percy finished. "You're bitter, and you feel forgotten, and you have every right to be angry, but you're not the brother I know. The Luke I know would have never set a hand on Annabeth, not like this. And I know it's Medusa's fault, and perhaps that's why I'll never kill you, not really, why I'll always regret letting you down—"

"You didn't impact me at all!" Luke's voice trembled with rage. "You were not as important to my childhood as you remember, Perseus. You were nothing special to me, only to everyone else."

"Maybe," Percy conceded, not surprised by his outburst. "But you were everything to me. And I'm sorry, even if you don't want to hear it."

Slowly, the guards began to kneel… kneel to Percy. The rightful heir. Annabeth felt like throwing up.

Annabeth didn't even flinch when Kronos threw the first dagger.

…

The throne room erupted in chaos. Immediately it was every man for himself. Percy very obviously avoided dueling Luke, and there was a slight crease in Luke's forehead, like that time he had seen blood dripping down Percy's mouth after Medusa slapped him across the face multiple times in the room before killing Poseidon, like he still cared or something.

Annabeth didn't really care anymore. She was past trying to understand boys with issues. She had issues of her own and that included surviving this madness. Guards surged forward to take her down. A few stood up to Percy, loyal to Luke, but others, old friends of Percy, rebelled against Luke.

Kronos tried to shoot down Percy and Luke and her, and he was losing a dying battle. Percy stabbed him through the heart, and Kronos' eyes rolled back until there was nothing left but white.

Blood streaked across the white marble floor. Annabeth could feel her heart beating in her chest as she too avoided Percy. She would never be able to raise a blade to him. At least that's what she'd always thought. With conflicting emotions, she decided it was simply smartest to avoid him at all costs.

Perhaps it's that idea that forces Annabeth to spin on her heels and run out the palace doors. She didn't want to see how this ends, and she didn't feel like a coward. There was a full on war outside Thasite's castle, and she was more than eager to be caught in that storm rather than this.

…

"Piper?" Annabeth screamed over the commotion outside. This war was killing her.

"Annabeth," Piper screamed back.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Heard you came to confront the Boy King," Piper coolly remarked. Nico slipped out of the shadows, shrugging unevenly.

"Sorry," he said insincerely, but Annabeth was only all too relieved to see him. She crushed him in a hug tight to her chest until he batted her away, his cheeks flushed pink. Annabeth reached down, kissing the top of his head without another thought.

"And?" Annabeth inquired.

Piper grinned a little. "Reyna and Thalia still got it."

Despite the world-shattering moments only a few minutes before, Annabeth found herself smiling tiredly. "I fucking love you."

"Don't I know it." But Piper sounded pleased. "So where is he?"

"Luke?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "The frog prince. Of course I mean Luke!"

Annabeth narrowed her eyes. "I'll find him. He's here somewhere. I can feel it."

"You're finding him alone?" Piper raised an eyebrow.

"I'll call for backup. We'll imprison him. We'll make him tell us all his secrets, and we'll end this war with him," Annabeth decided. She wouldn't shock them with news of Percy just yet.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Annabeth didn't hesitate. Luke was a direct responsibility of hers after all these months. He was connected to her like she was tied to him, and if they were to go down in flames, they would burn together just as they had so long ago, when she'd been filled to the brim with girlish hope. Empty hope. She knew better now.

…

Luke didn't flinch when he saw her. They were standing near a bridge connecting past the sea to the Calbourne castle. He was expecting her to follow him, to find him, to hunt him down, to want his head. He didn't even blink. Luke searched the sea as the waves crashed into another, his blue eyes big as dinner plates. He paled, going whiter than hair, and his throat worked furiously, lips pressing into a disappearing line. All this passed in an instant as he quickly wrestled his emotions under control, but the moment was enough for her.

She knew what fear looked like in Luke Calbourne, and he was terrified now. For very good reason.

Whatever plan he had, whatever hope there had been for escape, just disappeared with that water.

He caught her staring, reading the fading expression on his face. His jaw tightened just a little, and his eyes ran over her, slow as a caress. You can't run from what you've done, she wanted to say aloud.

He got the message.

As the water faded to nothing again, beyond Annabeth's perception, his eyes fluttered shut.

She thought he was saying goodbye.

Thalia appeared just as planned, ready to trap the Boy King after Annabeth had found him. Luke didn't try to resist. She had Luke by the neck. The air filled with the sound of weapons and body armor being checked. Guns loaded, blades drawn, buttons fastened, buckles clicked into place. The pistol on Annabeth's own hip was still an unusual weight, and she leaned a little to compensate. She doubted she'd fire a bullet up there. Not like Thalia. The Grace daughter shedded her jacket, tossing it to the side to be trampled by the hundreds behind them. Without the gold overcoat, Annabeth could see the many belts and holsters crossing her back and hips, slung with half a dozen different guns and corresponding ammunition, as well as her radio. She had her knives as well, now in plain sight. Thalia Grace was ready for war.

Somewhere behind them, one of the Amazons shouted, her voice echoing oddly. Annabeth couldn't decipher it, but others repeated her words. The cheer reverberated off the walls, the sound rising like thunder, until Annabeth realized what they were chanting.

"Ascend for gold and glory."

In spite of her fear, Annabeth felt a wicked, wild grin rise to her lips.

"Ascend for gold and glory."

The spiraling passage chorused with the battle cry.

They were almost running, Luke struggling to keep up with Thalia's pace. Reyna matched her speed, her long strides eating up the white marble beneath their feet.

The lights in the tunnel overhead flickered in time with her heartbeat.

Annabeth looked back, searching through ranks of gold and red, Amazons and Canaians. The range of faces, skin of every shade, all speaking in shuddering unison. Some raised their fists or weapons or both, but no one was silent. Their voices were so loud she could barely hear her own.

"Ascend for gold and glory."

She was not a general or commander. The only things Annabeth had to worry about topside were herself, Reyna, Piper, Nico, and Thalia, if she'd let her. That was all she had the capacity for.

And Percy, wherever he might've been. Leading his army, reclaimed from Luke, fighting in vain against a greater force. Defending a city from almost inevitable ruin.

Thalia was first through the great doors of the Epresh port tunnels, vaulting out into the spiraling rain with Luke in tow. The younger Prince skidded, his shoes sliding over the wet tiles of Calbourne's Square, but Thalia kept her grip. Annabeth followed, half expecting Thalia to kill Luke on the spot, already shivering in the rain. They never planned on letting Luke survive the battle. And they didn't need him anymore, not really.

It could've been over right then.

Annabeth felt tugged by both ends of the decision. As if it was really her decision to make.

Reyna never loosened her grasp, almost holding Luke down.

Reyna wasn't as temperamental as the rest of them. She was slow to fury, even now, with Luke in hand. She was a good jailer for someone the rest of them despised so much.

"Do it," Annabeth heard Luke grit out, head still bowed. He extended his white hands, and she watched his fingers tremble in the rain. Like her, he knew where this road led.

Behind them, more and more of Piper's forces fled into the Square, still cheering the words of the Amazons. They filled the space with color, uniforms of gold and red standing out starkly even in the wet fog. Annabeth focused on the fallen King, now shuddering a hundred yards from his own palace. Even the rhythmic thud of gunfire and explosions barely penetrated her awareness.

"I said, do it," Luke snarled again, trying to goad Thalia.

Or Annabeth.

Above them, the storm clouds churned. An Amazon shined a light about, letting everyone know of their presence. They had no need to hide anymore, not when they were winning. Letting Percy know they were there.

"You don't have any more use for me." Rainwater dripped down his face, tracing familiar paths. "Be done with it."

Slowly, he raised his eyes to Annabeth's. She expected sorrow, or defeat. Not icy anger.

"Thalia—" she started, but the word was hardly out of her mouth when a shell struck true, exploding over the columned walls of the port.

The force of it blew them sideways, falling over already slippery ground.

Annabeth's skull cracked against the tile, and she saw dizzy stars for a second. She tried to stand and fell again, colliding with an equally disoriented Thalia. Annabeth held her down, pushing her flat against the Square as a leaping tongue of flame passed over them, singing the air directly above their heads.

"Luke!" Annabeth screamed, her voice lost in the sugre of battle. Against the guns, the missles, the mortar shells, the wind and the rain, she might as well have whispered.

Beneath her, Thalia tensed, pushing up on her elbows. Her head whipped back and forth, searching the crowd around them for a gray form and blond hair. Annabeth rolled to her knees, cursing, the twists of her hair already coming undone. Blonde strands drifted, unfamiliar. Nico skidded to a stop at her shoulder, his face already sweaty and flush with exertion.

"Is he gone?" he panted, trying to help her up.

As he head cleared, she managed to get her feet underneath her. Annabeth's muscles tightened, ready to dodge another flaming blow. Not that she needed to. That wasn't his way. Luke wasn't a warrior.

"He's gone," she heard herself hiss.

Annabeth could choose to hunt him down. Or she could make sure they finished what they had started. She could keep her friends alive.

With a burst of determination, she forced herself to turn, face the gates of the Square, and the bridge beyond. "We have work to do."

Though it was still shrouded in fog, she could just make out hundreds of soldiers spanning the bridge, with the looming hulks of European ships below. In the sky, air jets gave chase, swooping like deadly birds of prey. Annabeth couldn't make out anything beyond the river. The other half other city was entirely obscured. At least Piper and the officers had their radios. They should've been able to communicate.

Extending a hand, Annabeth took Thalia by the wrist, hoisting her to her feet. Her face darkened as she scowled, disgusted with herself.

"I'm sorry," Annabeth thought she heard her whisper. "I should have killed him when I had the chance."

"They made it across," Nico mused, pointing out the distant lights. The people swarmed over the weakened bridge, weakened by cannons and bombs, but they stormed the castle. "The Canadian army."

In spite of Luke's escape, her lips twitched, wanting to smile. A small burst of triumph bloomed in Annabeth's chest. "Well, that's something." More than something. The castle controlled the world around them, the gleaming centerpiece of the entire operation. They could win. She could practically taste the victory on her lips, hard-won, and a long-time coming.

They made their way to Reyna across the sea of people. "I don't see Luke," Reyna said, shifting closer to Annabeth. Annabeth found herself facing the full weight of Reyna's chocolate stare, clear and bright even in the haze. "Is it done?"

Annabeth bit her lip, almost drawing blood. The sharp pain was better than shame. She red her hesitation, and Reyna's face flushed quicker than Annabeth had thought possible.

"Annabeth Chase—"

The crackle of the radio at her side cut her off, saving the blonde from Reyna's rage. The dark-haired girl ripped it free, snarling into the receiver. "This is General Reyna."

The voice on the other end did not belong to a Command general or a Canadian officer. It wasn't Piper either.

Annabeth would've known that voice anywhere, even punctuated by gunfire.

"I thought you had left entirely," Percy said, sounding tinny and far away, distorted by static. The electricity in the air must've not been very good for radio waves.

Breathless, Annabeth looked from Reyna toward the bridge. Sure enough, one of the shadows in the gof seemed to be solidifying. Broad shoulders and a familiar, determined stride moved closer and closer. Annabeth kept still, her feet rooted in place on their perch above the fray.

Reyna gaped down at her radio. "So nice of you to make time for us." After a funeral. Annabeth cringed.

"It's only polite," he replied.

With a sigh, Reyna angled herself toward the form on the bridge, now less than fifty yards away. Percy was surrounded by his guards, and he halted, stopping the group. The guards seemed tense, their guns ready, waiting for an order. He acknowledged them with a tip of his head. Reyna furrowed her brow a little, hesitant.

Percy didn't seem to be fighting for anyone, really. It was then that Annabeth understood: do we have a deal? Percy's voice echoed in her mind. He was trying to overthrow Luke for… for the position himself. Annabeth's heart beat out of her chest at the betrayal. But Percy was right. The people would accept him as King much more than they would accept the immediate elimination of the monarchy entirely. It didn't make the hurt sting any less.

"I'm guessing you know where things stand, Percy," Reyna said, eyeing Percy's control of the royal army carefully.

His response was almost too quick. "I do."

Reyna bit her lip. "And?"

A long rush of static droned before he spoke again. "Annabeth?"

The radio was in her hand before she could even think to ask for it.

"I'm here," annabeth said, locking eyes with him across a canyon.

"Is it too late?"

The question had too many implications to count.

White flashed through the clouds, enough to penetrate the mist and blind them all for a moment. Shutting her eyes, Annabeth flinched at the thunder cracking across the sky.

When the lightning passed, she answered him, and everything he meant.

"No, it isn't," she told him before returning the radio to Reyna.

She didn't stop Annabeth as she clambered down the steps, and Percy's guards stood aside when she approached, walking through the broken gates of the ruinous Square.

He waited at the edge of the bridge, unmoving. As before, he let her come to him. He let her set the pace, choose the direction, make the decision. He put it all in her hands.

Annabeth kept an even step, in spite of the rumblings far below. Something smashed, wailing and roaring. One of the ships, maybe, colliding into another. She hardly noticed.

The embrace was short, far too short, but enough. Annabeth steadied herself against him, holding tightly for as long as she dared, feeling the warm, hard lines of his body pressed against her. He smelled like smoke and blood and sweat. His arms crossed her back, holding her around the shoulders to pull her into his chest.

"I'm done with crowns," he murmured to the top of her head. "I want to be."

"I know," Annabeth whispered, but she also knew he couldn't escape this. Just like she couldn't escape her cause. His crown was worth more to him than her, and her cause was worth more to her than him. It was the way it would always be. "I had thought you had chosen the crown. They knelt for you. They would give anything for you, the people."

"I know," Percy murmured remorsefully. "But… but I don't want it."

It felt like breathing a fresh breath of air. Annabeth allowed herself the smallest sliver of hope. Perhaps Percy was the true savior, the sole being uncorrupted by the temptation of power.

"You turned it down? You're not going to be King?" Annabeth stumbled backwards.

They pushed back in unison, turning to the situation at hand. They didn't have time for anything else, and Annabeth certainly didn't have the capacity to think about much more.

He half-smiled at her, but it was a grimace. King or not, all eyes would be on him for the rest of his life. "I made that mistake once before."

She remembered well. She had asked him to choose her, standing there in her blue dress on a balcony as Luke and the Amazons blew up the Epresh castle, and he had reluctantly turned her and Luke into their father, only for Poseidon to be killed.

"I'll choose you now, a thousand times again," Percy admitted so quietly she barely heard it. Her heart fluttered in her chest.

Percy raised the radio again, one hand still resting on her shoulder. "General, I believe some of the Rayas are still in War Command," he said. Through the mist, Annabeth glanced at the hulking building on the edge of the Square. "You'll want to keep an eye on your backs."

"Got it, will do," she answered. "Anything else?"

Reyna was on the move, barking orders to her lieutenants, as she relayed the advice. Nico and Thalia flanked her like guards.

"We're working on blocking up the river. If the ships can't turn around…"

"They can't escape," Annabeth finished for him, glancing out at the destruction on both sides of the city. Missiles spiraled overhead, trailing smoke like black ink over paper as they arced and exploded.

In spite of Percy's soldiers, as well as the jets overhead, the European armada didn't seem to be taking much damage. Percy watched her, his face still and grim. "We have to start sinking the ships, but with the river, they have all the shields they'll ever need. Right now it's all we can do to minimize the damage to the city." He cursed as a wave knocked back another volley of gunfire. "They have to run out of ammunition eventually, right?" he said dryly.

Annabeth glared at the offending ships, eyes running over their steel hides. "Call up some jets. Let's get the Rayas on the ship. I want them dead. All of them. And Drew too."

"Drew's gone."

"But you said she saved you."

Somehow, Percy looked oddly proud. "She had an opportunity, and she took it."

An opportunity to run and put all this behind her. Annabeth too felt a strange mix of pride and surprise. She had fled from the royal lifestyle, probably with a lover, to the land of the free.

"Canada?"

"I still can't tell you," Percy muttered.

Annabeth nodded, but it was empty. She still found herself searching for Luke.

"What's the look for?" Percy inquired.

"It's Luke."

"He's here?" Percy quirked an eyebrow, unable to disguise his surprise. That was right. The Amazons had captured him. Had.

It was no use lying. "He slipped us."

He blinked at her. Another missile whined past. "This is a very odd time for a very odd joke, Annabeth."

She wavered, dropping her gaze. She was not joking.

The ring on his finger clinked angrily, screeching against Riptide. Angry, surprised, exasperated, he tossed something over the edge of the bridge, letting it fall into the water below.

"So he's somewhere in the city," he snapped. "Fantastic."

"You keep an eye on Nico and Reyna. I'll find him," Annabeth said quickly, putting a hand to his arm.

Percy brushed her away gently. He glanced back to the Square again, teeth gritted. "No, I will."

She was faster than him, not weighed down by heavy cloths. She dodged his hands with ease, planting herself firmly between him and the Square. Putting her palm on his chest, she held him at arm's length. "You're a little busy," she said, jerking her chin toward the armada below them.

"A little," he ground out.

"I can finish this."

"I know you can."

His armor warmed beneath her hand, and he covered her fingers with his own.

Then the bridge buckled beneath them as something slammed into it, a dozen times, from all angels. Above, below. Missiles, shells. A crashing wave sent spray up the supports and onto the level where they stood. Heavier in his armor, Percy lost his balance, falling flat while Annabeth fought to stay upright.

Except there was no such thing as upright.

The three-tiered bridge, massive stone and steel, bowed toward its center, drooping downward. It wasn't difficult to guess why. Another explosion shuddered, and a spray of debris plummeted outward, falling with the central supports of the bridge.

Percy scrambled, trying to get to his feet, and Annabeth seized beneath the arm. She would've dragged him if she could've, but the armor was too heavy.

"Help!" she shouted, looking for his guards.

The soldiers, his grandmother's own kin, wasted no time dragging Percy to his feet. But the bridge fought them, falling faster and faster, roaring against its own demise.

Annabeth screamed when the pavement under their feet gave way, slamming into the next tier thirty feet below. She landed hard on her side, and something cracked in her ribs, sending spiderwebs of pain over her. Hissing, she tried to roll and get her bearings. Get off the bridge, get off the bridge drummed in her head.

Percy was already on his knees, a hand outstretched. Not to grab her. To stop her.

"Don't move!" he screamed, fingers splayed.

Annabeth froze mid step, her arm wrapped around her rib cage.

His eyes stood out sharply, so afraid, his pupils blown wide and dark.

Instead of the armada, their guns raining concussive hell upon them, she could only hear one thing. Like a whisper, but worse.

Cracking. Crumbling.

"Perce—"

Everything collapsed beneath them.

…

If Annabeth even knew Luke at all, she would've known he would be here, searching the castle for weapons, something to help him. He had nowhere to go. Who would ever accept the Boy King?

Percy, something in the back of her mind nagged. Percy still believed he could fix his brother, reverse Medusa's poison, and turn back time. It was a painful reminder. Percy was still out there, ordering fire upon the European ships, but she was here, standing outside Percy's old royal chamber. A room Luke had taken over. Unlike Percy, Luke was not a coward of the past, and he was not afraid to tread into his brother's room.

The room was a coffin. A maw of stone that would swallow her whole. She felt dead, even on the threshold, hesitating to fully succumb to this place and the person who built it.

And there he was. His hand was gripping a letter opener once he discovered she'd seen him.

Annabeth's heart pounded so loudly she knew Luke could hear it.

His eyes traced over her in a way that was too familiar and too close, despite the yards between them. He focused on her throat, on the vein pulsing with all her fear. She expected him to lick his lips. Her hand flexed in vain, attempting to call up some weapons, or divine intervention, or something. She was weaponless after the fall, and her ribs still screamed.

Her hand strayed to her hip for the pistol Nico haragued her into wearing, but the holster was gone entirely, probably lost in the bridge collapse. She gulped again. She had no weapons at all.

And Luke knew it.

He grinned, teeth white and wicked. "Aren't you going to try to stop me?" he said, tipping his head like some curious puppy.

Her mouth felt dry when she spoke. "Don't make me do this, Luke." It came out raspy.

Luke just shrugged. Somehow he managed to make his simple gray clothing look like silk and fur and steel. He wasn't a King anymore, but no one seemed to have told him.

"I'm not making you do anything," he said imperiously. "You don't have to suffer this. You can stand right there, or even turn around. It makes no difference to me."

Annabeth forced another breath, stronger than before. "Don't make me kill you like this," she growled, sounding dangerous and lethal.

"What are you going to do, stare at me?" he shot back dryly. "I'm terrified."

It was a brash show, his forced nonchalance. She knew Luke well enough to see the truth in his words, the real fear weaving through his practice arrogance. His eyes darted, quicker than before, not over her face, but her feet. So he could move when she moved. Run when she lunged.

In spite of the dagger, he was without his weapons too.

She didn't tremble when she took the first, slow step, sliding into the prison of Percy's old room.

"You should be."

Luke stumbled back, surprised, almost tripping over himself. But he recovered quickly, the dagger tight in his hand as she continued forward. He mirrored her movements, stepping backward. The lethal dance was achingly slow, and they never broke their stares. They didn't even blink. She felt as if she was walking a tightrope over a pit of wolves, barely keeping balance. One wrong move and she'd fall to their fangs.

Or maybe she was the wolf.

She saw herself in his eyes. And his mother. And Percy. All they did to get here, in the middle of the end of his world. She lied and was lied to. Betrayed and was betrayed. She hurt people, and so many people hurt her. She wondered what Luke saw in her eyes.

"It won't end here," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. She was reminded of Chiron. "You can drag my corpse across the world, and it won't end any of this."

"Likewise," she replied, showing her teeth. She wondered if it was always supposed to be like this, the both of them, at each other's throats till the end. Percy would never hurt either of them. He liked to believe they were good, but they knew the truth. They knew they were both monsters, and they'd burn together.

The inches closed between them, in spite of his best efforts. She was more agile than he was, years scouring the black market catching up with her. "The gold dawn won't stop with me."

He offered a twisting smirk. "Then it seems we're both dispensable. We don't matter anymore."

She barked out a laugh. Annabeth had never mattered the way he still did. "I'm used to it."

"I like the hair," Luke murmured, filling the empty space. His eyes ran over the tangle of blonde and platinum—forced by the sun's harsh rays—spilling over one shoulder. She didn't reply. The last card he played was obvious, but it still stung. Not because she wanted what he offered, but because she remembered a girl who would have accepted it. She knew better now.

"We can still run." His voice deepened, letting the offer hang in the air. "Together.

She should've laughed at him. Twisted the knife. Made him suffer as much as she could in these last moments they had. Instead she felt some piece of her heart break for someone so irrevocably lost. And she felt true sorrow for the other brother in the midst of all this, who tried and failed. Who never deserved what was happening now.

"Luke," she sighed, shaking her head at his blindness. "The last person who loves you isn't standing in this room. He's out there. And you burned that bridge to ashes."

He went deathly still, face white as bone. Not even his icy eyes moved.

When she took another step, coming within arm's length, he didn't seem to notice. She balled a fist at her side, bracing herself.

Slowly, he blinked. And she saw nothing in him

Luke Calbourne was empty.

"Very well."

The dagger cut at her throat, swiping with vicious and blistering speed. She leaned backward, dodging the blow without thought. He kept coming, kept slicing, saying nothing. Her body reacted before her brain, all instinct as she deflected his strikes. She was faster than he was, and her arms swung in time with his movements, catching his wrists before he could do any damage with the tiny, wicked gleam of sharp iron.

Annabeth had nothing except her own fists and feet. Her focus was on keeping the dagger away from her skin, and she barely landed any blows of her own. She twisted, trying to trip him with a hooked ankle, but he stepped neatly over the attempt. Her first mistake, leaving her back exposed. She moved as he did, and a stab for her lungs became a long but shallow gash across her side. Hot, red blood welled up, filling the air with a copper tang.

She almost expected him to apologize. Luke had never truly delighted in her pain. But he gave no quarter. And neither did she.

Ignoring the spreading pain, she jabbed at his throat with a closed fist, hitting hard. He wheezed and stumbled, dropping to a knee. She stuck again, kicking him across the jaw. The momentum sent him sideways, his eyes wide and dazed as he spat blood in all directions. If not for the dagger, she would've used the opportunity to get her arms around his throat and squeeze until his body was cold.

Instead she leapt, using her weight to keep him pinned as she fought the fingers still clawed around the dagger hilt. He growled beneath her, in spite of the jaw, trying to force her off.

She had to use her teeth.

The taste of red blood poisoned her mouth when she clamped down on his fingers, cutting through flesh straight to the bone. His growls turned to wailing screams. The sound ripped into her, made worse by the effect of the hollow hallway. Everything hurt more than it should've.

She pushed through it and pried his fingers off, biting where she had to, until the dagger was hers. It was slick with his blood and hers, both red but so much worse, darker by the second.

Suddenly his other hand was around her throat, squeezing without any restraint, crushing the air from her windpipe. He was heavier than her and used his weight to fling her onto her back. One of his knees dug into her shoulder, keeping her dagger arm pinned. The other pressed into her collarbone, right over the brand he gave her. It shrieked and stung beneath the pressure, and she felt the bone crack with an agonizing slowness.

It was her turn to scream.

"I tried, Annabeth," he hissed, his cold breath washing over her face. Still struggling for air, she couldn't do much more than gasp and choke. Her vision split and spotted, leaving only his eyes above her. Too blue, too frozen, inhuman in their blankness. They were not the eyes of a water Prince. This was not Luke Calbourne. That boy was gone, lost. Whoever he was born as would not be buried with him.

Her neck ached, bruising beneath his fingers as blood vessels burst. She could barely think, her mind narrowing to the dagger still clenched in her fist. She tried to raise her arm again, but Luke's weight made it impossible. Tears pricked at her eyes when she realized this was how it ended. No power, no blades. She would die a damsel in distress, one of the thousands crushed beneath a royal crown. Luke's grip on her throat never loosened. If anything, it became tighter, crushing the muscles in her neck until she felt like her spine might've snapped clean.

The world dimmed, the spots across her vision spreading like black rot.

But Luke leaned. Slightly, in the smallest way. Putting more pressure on her broken collarbone. And less on her shoulder. Enough to free her arm.

She didn't think. She just swung wildly, blade ready, as his eyes faded.

They seemed sad and…

Satisfied.

…

When she came to, Nico was standing over her.

Kayla and Will too, both of them fretting above. Her abdomen felt like it was on fire.

"Try not to move," Nico advised. Too late. She tried to sit, nearly screamed, and laid back down. "You never do what you're told, do you?"

"Why change a lifetime of tradition?" Annabeth voiced, her tone hollow. "Do we have a casualty count?" she asked no one in particular.

"Not yet," Nico whispered. He eyed her carefully, knowing exactly what she wanted to ask, and yet he made her wait.

"Nico," she finally muttered.

"When we found you, you were bleeding to death. I didn't know… if Kayla could fix you… if you'd…" he said, his voice laced with pain. She had seen him dying before too. She supposed she had repaid the favor.

"And… Luke?" She could barely say his name.

Nico held her gaze, his expression unchanging. Giving no indication of an answer for an agonizing moment. Long enough for her to wonder what answer she was hoping to get. Which future she wanted to live in.

When he dropped his eyes, focusing on her hands, her blankets, anywhere but her face, she realized what he was saying.

Something in Annabeth unwound, a coil finally springing loose. She sighed and lied back, shutting her eyes as a storm of emotions rolled over her. All she could do was bear it as the world spinned.

Luke was dead.

Shame and pride battled in equal measure, as well as sorrow and relief. For a second, she thought she might actually throw up, but the nausea passed, and she opened her eyes again to find everything in its place.

Nico waited patiently.

"Where is the body?"

"Piper."

Annabeth nodded without thinking. As with Medusa, she'd need to see the corpse. To know it was well and truly finished. But his body frightened her more than Medusa's for obvious reasons. Death was a mirror, and to look at him like that… she was afraid she'd see herself. Or worse, see him as she thought he was.

"Does Percy know what I did?" Her voice broke as she spoke, suddenly fraught with emotion. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to calm herself. She refused to cry over him. She refused.

Nico merely watched. She wished he would hug her, or hold her hand, or maybe bring her something sweet to stuff in her mouth. Instead he pulled away to stand up. He looked at her with such pity, it made her wince. She didn't expect him to understand, and she didn't want him to.

Like Kayla and Will, he crossed to the door, and she felt suddenly abandoned.

"Nico—" she protested, until he turned the knob.

And someone else stepped into the room.

Percy filled the chamber with warmth, as if someone just lit a crackling fire. His gleaming armor was gone, replaced by simple clothing. Except the ring on his finger. He wore a mismatch of color, without a stitch of blue or white. Because they weren't his colors anymore. Nico slipped out behind him, leaving them alone.

Before she could even wonder if Percy heard her question, he answered it. "You only did what you had to do," he said, slowly taking Nico's chair. But he kept his distance, letting the inches stretch between them in a gaping rift.

It wasn't difficult to guess why.

"I'm sorry." He went watery before her as tears rose in her eyes. She killed his brother. She took him away. She killed a murderer, a torturer. An evil person, twisted and broken. A man who would have killed her if she hadn't stopped him. Killed everyone she loved. A boy, made into a monster. A boy with no chance and no hope. "Percy, I'm so sorry."

They both knew they would happen. They both knew Luke was beyond their help. It didn't stop the pain, though. And his was so much deeper than hers.

"What now?" he whispered, as if to himself.

Or maybe they were wrong. Maybe he could've been saved somehow. The thought cut her apart, and the first tear fell. Maybe she was just a murderer too.

Only one thing was certain. They would never know.

"What now," she replied, turning away.

She stared at the window. The sky was spotted with haze and weak starlight. Minutes stretched and passed. They didn't speak. No one came to see her, or find Percy to pull him away. She almost wished someone would.

Even in death, Luke sat between them both, a ghost painted in so many colors, and now nothing more than black and white. And he chose black.

Percy's fingers hesitantly slid towards her, but there was an inch between them.

They weren't happy, and their hands waited, unmoving between them—and yet they weren't unhappy either.

…

"You need to love him."

Annabeth's head snapped up in surprise. Drew. What was she doing here? She had been in hiding, and now Cecily trailed comfortably at her side. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together.

"I don't want to love him," Drew bitterly spat out.

Drew too, Annabeth slowly realized, had grown from the girl who would've done anything to hold a crown, to a girl who just wanted her own love. If Percy accepted the position of King, especially now that there was this unmistakable divide between her and him, then he would be married off, most likely to Drew, against both of their wills.

Once again, Drew did what was best for her. And Annabeth would always hate her, for all she'd done to her, for all she hadn't done, for making trades at her expense with Octavian and Luke, and yet Annabeth knew she would've done the same, would've looked out for the people she loved and no one else.

"I can't convince him of anything," Annabeth quipped, irrationally angry with Drew. Perhaps it was because even now Percy shielded Drew's secrets, another thing between herself and him.

"I can't do it," Drew said, almost desperate now. Cecily dropped her head at her side.

"I can't make him love me. I can't make him choose me," Annabeth's voice dropped. It was thick with realization. Percy could still choose King. Or he could run away again. And he still hadn't told her anything, not how he'd survived, not how anything had gone down, not where he'd been. He was bound to his secrets too. "I killed his brother."

"I know," Drew haughtily said. "Might be the first good thing you've done, Chase."

Annabeth let it go. "I'll promise you a place in Canada." She didn't want to be friends with her, but she wanted to be bigger.

"I don't need your charity," she said, but it was soft.

"It's not charity." She felt better knowing Drew was under her own country, voting, growing, not hiding.

Drew narrowed her eyes on her.

"Canada's free," Annabeth promised. Her eyes darted between Cecily and Drew. "Nico will be staying there as well. We all will." But maybe not Percy. Not if he said no. Not if he left. She wouldn't be enough for him to stay. He was running from his ghosts, and it wasn't until he stopped running and healed that he would come back to her. She didn't know him either, not anymore. She hardly knew herself, and she still remembered what it was like to stab Luke in the heart.

"I see," Drew whispered. For a moment, her facade fell apart, but then the glass stacked up once more. She raised her chin.

Annabeth was mildly aware of Piper watching from the side, gaping at her sister in surprise. They hadn't seen each other in a year and a half, at least.

Drew walked past Piper and Annabeth, both of whom let her go. Annabeth slumped against Piper, and Piper's face twisted into sympathy.

"He really thinks he can change things as King, Annabeth."

Annabeth was quiet. She really thought he could too. "But he doesn't want it."

"So tell him," Piper convinced her. "Keep him away from the crown."

"Maybe."

…

"You broke your promises." It was the first thing she had said to him in days. Percy was avoiding everyone, locked up in his cabin. The war still waged on, but Annabeth had chosen to let it go. It would end a few years, and she had lost too many to continue. Freedom would come, but she would not fight in the front lines. She needed to live.

Percy closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them once more, he was humorlessly smiling at her, his eyes meeting hers through his long lashes.

They sat on opposite sides of his cabin room, a gaping space between them both.

"I broke so many promises for you that you don't even know," he whispered hoarsely. "I promised to be a Prince, a King, a son, a brother, a husband, and I fell for stubborn Princesses instead."

"Percy."

"I know," he murmured, cutting himself off.

"What really happened?" Annabeth asked softly. "That day on the battlefield when you went under?"

"I thought I died," he said after a moment. "I was bloody and beaten. There were too many of them. And then all of a sudden, there she was."

"Drew?"

"Who else?" Percy whispered. "She didn't fight. She parted the crowd with a mere look. She would've made a fine Queen. But she would've drove me crazy. She wouldn't have made me a good wife, and I wouldn't have made her a good husband." The implication of Annabeth hung in the air, stunning the blonde. "They were afraid of her. I'm not sure why. I don't know what she told them. But she saved me, nonetheless. Took me to where she had been hidden. Offered me a deal. I took it."

"Why did she help you?" Annabeth pressed. It didn't make any sense.

"The day I chose you, the day I threw the crown away, I saved her," Percy answered her unknown question. "You killed my brother," he began, and Annabeth flinched, "so she didn't have to marry Luke. And you took me away from a crown. And so she was free. She was indebted to me. For choosing you."

Oh.

"And she got me the edit. For my father's death." Percy shut his eyes.

"Why? Isn't saving your ass debt repaid enough?"

"Let's just say she owed me a couple favors. She's absolved of me now, though. She's lethal, but she's honest, even if you don't believe me."

Annabeth soured. He was right. She didn't believe him. Drew was a cruel soul. "So where did she hide?" Would he tell her? Would he spill secrets for her? Did he love her enough still, even after Luke?

"I don't think I'm going to be King," Percy said instead. Annabeth fought her disappointment. Even now, he chose to hold Drew's secrets.

"Really?"

"I want to get away." Percy looked towards her, desperately. She gazed into his sea green eyes, and found herself empty at the hollowness in them. "I'm running away. I know."

Annabeth's breath hitched.

"Come with me," Percy softly requested. "I'm leaving tonight. My mother's coming, and Estelle, and Paul, and my uncle Chiron. We're going to Greece. Sally loves Greece, and I just… I want to step away from the spotlight, but I can't. Not yet. So I have to run away. Again."

Annabeth reached down for him, but her hand fell to her side. If she went with him now, they'd never last. He resented her for Luke's murder, and she resented him for even considering King, for faking his death. She glanced outside. It was almost dark. He would be leaving soon.

"Tell me not to go, and I won't," Percy whispered. It was dangerous, both of them together.

Annabeth swallowed hard. "I can't do that. Go."

"Annabeth."

"No, Percy." She shuddered at the choice she was about to make. "You're not beholden to this place or anyone else. You don't have to be King. You can run away. You need to run away. If you leave, I will not think less of you. Nico won't think you less of a man, and Piper won't be disappointed in you, and I will not think you less of a brother, of a Calbourne, of anything. You need to do this for yourself. You need to get away before the people suck you back to a throne. You need to run as fast as you can." Every word hurt her, but it was true.

"But…" he dared to protest. "I can't."

"You have to," she insisted. "You don't have to be King. You have to go. I am standing here, and I am telling you that you are not responsible for this war. I am telling you that you need to get far away from this place. I will be in Canada. I'll always be there, any time you decide you want to come back. But I won't ask you to wait for me."

He would never fade out, even if he might want to. It was why they still wanted him as King. The people would follow him anywhere. And once upon a time, she might've also, but she was not that girl anymore.

He smiled sadly, and she was reminded of the look he gave her at that ball, when he had told her she knew he didn't belong.

Percy hesitated. "It's ironic, I suppose, where she went. The birthplace of your people." The wind coming in from the window blew through her hair.

Annabeth's heart stuttered in her chest. My people. Ashingtons? Intellectuals? No. It dawned on her, surely but slowly. Her lips curved up in a faint smile despite herself. He refused to break his promise to Drew, and yet he'd told her in the only way he could. He had left her a clue, a small idea he knew only she could pick apart and decipher.

Percy touched her hand one last time, and her palm stung as he walked away. The sky was pitch black outside. The air was cold, December biting at her ears and nose.

She ripped her eyes away from the boat docked at the Amazon shore, unable to watch him go. Watching his back disappear for good would only haunt her.

She sat in the windowsill for some time, and only then did she glance down at the object in her hand he'd left.

It was a gold seashell, still wet with some sand from the shore sticking to the sides. If she twisted it into the lamp light outside, it reflected the rainbow just the right way, no longer stuck in shades of grey.

And she closed her eyes.

…

All she could hear was the ocean.

The sun was rising over the horizon, and Annabeth stood atop the sandy dune, watching the turquoise water lap against where the water kissed the land, embracing tightly. The ocean was calm that morning.

If this were a fairytale, this would be the part where Percy appeared and Annabeth kissed him something fierce. Because they were supposed to live happily ever after like the best of fairytales. He would've never let her fake authority, condoning his abandonment, making up rules about what was okay just to save his life, to save them, convince him to give up his family. He would never leave.

He would have known that without him, none of them would ever be as good. Annabeth, without a friend (or more?); and Nico, without a brother; and this land, without a story; and Piper, without her something real; they would all be a little bit less than they were before they knew him.

So he wouldn't leave. Not until she could have come with him. And she had never been less able to leave than she was now.

But this wasn't a fairytale, and he didn't appear. They stood there for a long time, her brother and her. And Annabeth wondered who Malcolm was thinking of because she didn't think she could guess correctly, not anymore.

He really left.

Because it was all that she could do.

And she didn't know if it was the right answer. But she could picture him sailing away, lonely and scared and safe. He had Chiron, who Annabeth missed with all her fucking heart, and others too, but Annabeth knew he was just as alone as she was. And even though this wasn't the ending she had wanted, the blonde felt like singing when she took Malcolm's hand and they stared out at the empty ocean.

…

Sometimes Nico still reminded her of Bianca, even if he was older now, even if his life had been much longer than his years. He had her dark hair and kind eyes, though he was quieter now, a different kind of quiet than he used to be. But sometimes he would smile, a tiny smile when Will said something stupid yet charming, and Annabeth knew it was going to be alright. Kayla would stay too. She had considered going with Chiron, but she had chosen to stay. She claimed she had no purpose unless she was healing others.

Sometimes Thalia still reminded her of Jason, even if she was older now, even if her life had been much longer than her years. She had his eyes, eyes she hadn't recognized until Percy had pointed out that they were siblings. She was nothing like Jason, but sometimes when she offered a small sad smile, the only indication that she shared Annabeth's pain, the burden felt a little lighter, and the blonde could breathe again.

Piper would squeeze her hand, and sometimes Piper would cry when it was dark out, and she thought nobody was paying attention, numb like Annabeth had become, but then the kind brunette would chase the dawn with her the very next morning on grand stallions like they had both always dreamed of. And she knew it was going to be alright someday.

Sometimes Annabeth thought about Frederick Chase, and she wondered if she should've missed him, wondered if she should've had more regrets, but she didn't, and that only made her feel worse.

Other times, Annabeth thought about Athena. She missed her mother more. Athena had never been affectionate, not like her brother, but Athena was a sign of familiarity, and even though Annabeth knew with certainty that the world was only getting better, she missed the old days occasionally. It was her fault. One of the many. Athena was in India now, on a spiritual journey of her own, learning so much more and soaking up information like a sponge. Like mother, like daughter.

And sometimes, Annabeth thought of Malcolm, even if he was here beside her. But he was never here, not really. Like her, he too was haunted by his ghosts, and until they both learned to be alone, they would never really learn to be together again. Their trust of each other had never shattered, not once through it all, but she couldn't bear to spread her pain to him, and he could not do the same to her. They would never be the same, not truly; she knew that too. But that too would heal. Malcolm would be okay, and he would hold her again like when they were younger, and he would kiss the top of her head, and curl her hair around his finger in that irritating fashion that he always did. Everything was temporary, and this pain, however heartbreaking, would also fade.

And sometimes… sometimes Annabeth allowed herself to think about Luke. Whenever she did, she wanted so badly to wish she had done things differently. Because maybe then everything wouldn't have turned to shit. But she couldn't. She couldn't regret loving him, because she suspected a piece of her would always be with him, as it was from the start. She couldn't regret killing him, even if it killed Percy, even if it killed her, because it had to be done. Because nobody else had the guts to do it.

He was one of those things Annabeth didn't think she would ever be able to forget: not those piercing blue eyes, not that sandy blond hair, not that scar, not that grin, not his touch, not those manacles, none of it.

Some things, she supposed, were not meant to be forgotten, were meant to serve as a reminder of darker times and good times and everything in between. Some things, like scars, were not meant to fade.

The 'L' didn't burn as much as it had when it was first put on.

Annabeth was learning to remember her anger, and keep it close, but not let it overwhelm her, taking over her life.

Sometimes she really hated Octavian, really hated Luke too, and Queen Medusa, maybe even her own parents, and once in a while, even Percy, but it was getting better. She was only nineteen now, the same age as Malcolm was when all this shit started. She had a lot of life left, and someday maybe she would return to him, to her green-eyed boy, but first she had to grow, to know what it felt like to be alone.

Because that was why she had said no in the first place. Percy had asked her to come with him, to experience life with him, and even though he had known she was going to say no, it didn't hurt either of them any less when she had. But they wouldn't have lasted, Annabeth knew as much.

Too many ghosts.

He resented her for Luke, for having the strength to do what he could not; she resented him for his choice. When their internal ghosts left them one day, maybe it would be different.

She allowed herself to remember the past and to think of the future. Tomorrow, she would leave for Canada with Malcolm and the others. There, they could live in peace, in the life she had always longed for: a simple one, in a simple house, away from the bustle of the city and the commotion of the Canadian government. And everyone else would be there too, living nearby, close enough when she needed them, but far enough that she had room to grow, to breathe.

Last Annabeth had heard, Drew had moved to Toronto and she was living with her Duchess Cecily, because Canada was free for that sort of thing. Sometimes, Annabeth still hated Drew, hated her for everything she did to her, hated her for taking up so much of her mind when she was seventeen and younger and still stupid.

Piper, like Annabeth, needed her own escape to cope with the death of her parents (because though their death was for the good of the future, they're still their loving, nurturing parents, at least they were to Piper and Silena), and Jason, and just—all of it, and she was going to stay with her sister Silena for some time. She could help Silena grieve the death of her husband as well. Annabeth only wished the best for her friend and Silena too, and she knew it wasn't the last she would see of her.

People didn't say goodbye unless they wanted to see you again.

Now Annabeth sat down at the dinner table. Thalia was talking quietly with Reyna. Reyna was smiling a bit to herself, and Annabeth pretended to not notice their hands intertwined under the table, though she felt them tug on the pale tablecloth. Rachel had joined in, but she was louder, and she was laughing, her gorgeous, fiery red locks swept back, cascading like a waterfall. Rachel's optimism was infectious, and despite all they'd been through, Thalia and Reyna both cracked smiles. Will was holding Nico's hand under the table as well, and he seemed content enough, and Nico even smiled at Will once, a difficult feat to accomplish after Bianca. Hazel and Frank had gone back to Canada about four days prior, Leo and Calypso as well, and Rachel was eager to meet up with her friends once more.

Malcolm sat across from Annabeth, and his feet were tangled with hers, tapping against the ground, unsettled. Sometimes he soothed her nightmares. When she woke up screaming and even crying, he was there to smooth down her hair like when she was five, and he was seven, and he'd stay with her until she was asleep. Or he'd sleep next to her, their hands clasped in the dark like children, because he too couldn't sleep without seeing it all unfold all over again.

Rachel had turned to all of them now, and she was going on and on about this new girl who could take apart a tank and reassemble it in a sandstorm. Ever since she ran into her while at the market, Rachel couldn't shut up about her.

Of course, she was fucking twelve, a child prodigy, so Rachel had good reason for gushing, but it was still entertaining. Annabeth supposed that despite being an only child, Rachel had become some sort of makeshift older sister for the kid. Good for them both, really.

Annabeth smiled like she was listening, but she let herself drift off a little. She got like this in the evenings now. She stopped training (some things never changed), and nothing seemed real until she gave everyone a weak smile good night and went up and touched the glass of her window.

And something small and insignificant inside her shattered, just like every night, and feelings hit too hard for her to stand. She bent at the waist and clung to the windowsill. She wouldn't scream. She wouldn't throw herself against the walls until the supports gave and they fell into the ocean. She wouldn't think about swimming as hard as she could.

No. She would sit there with a pencil in hand, pretending that she would write instead of spending hours staring at a blank page, small insignificant memories of him in her other hand—letters, doodles, useless trinkets he had built from fidgeting about. She would think peaceful, practical thoughts about reading books and training and making idle chatter with the townspeople. She'd had enough excitement for a lifetime. At least, that's what she liked to tell herself.

She closed her eyes and listened to the ocean. It still smelled like him, but then again it always did.

She was thinking about sailing, to England, or France, or maybe even Greece. The way the wind would feel on her face and the sound of his voice screaming her name through his laughter. The waves would crash like applause.

God, she remembered when she used to be afraid of the ocean.

A/N: Okay, in case you didn't understand by "your people," Percy was referring to the idea that democracy was born in greece. He was trying to tell her Drew had hidden in Greece with Cecily without explicitly saying it.

And also, for those of you who feel conflicted, I will confirm this for you: Luke leaned off her shoulder on purpose right before she stabbed him. I know I only implied that in the chapter, but I am telling you now. He leaned on purpose. Do with that information as you will.

If the ending was confusing, I just want you to know it was supposed to be that way. The wars are still going on. Wars last years together, and it will take time for everything to calm down. I felt it would be unrealistic if it just abruptly came to a close. Also, for those of you who didn't get it, when Percy stormed the castle, and showed the edited tape, everyone immediately recognized him as the true heir. People want him to take Luke's place, his rightful place, as King. And he doesn't want that. So Annabeth convinced him to leave behind the life he'd known and travel the world and live free.

That is why the ending is bittersweet. Percy had to go, and Percabeth reconciled, but they've acknowledged that at this point in their lives, with all that's happened, they're only poison for each other.

I've purposefully written this final chapter in a sort of disorienting order. Annabeth's conflicted and confused, and Percy never really explained why he was in Greece, or what he tried to discover as an outsider, and Annabeth supposes those secrets will sort of die with him. He feels distanced from Annabeth, and so because he refuses to tell her, he also indirectly refuses to tell you, the readers, because Annabeth is your eyes and ears.

If you have any more questions about the events in the chapter, feel free to ask in a PM or down below. I'll reply when I release the epilogue. :) For reference, it's about two years since the first events of the story. Annabeth was seventeen when we began, and now she's nineteen. Percy and Drew are twenty. Luke died at nineteen, Malcolm's twenty-one, Silena's twenty-one, Beckendorf died at twenty-one, Nico's about to turn eighteen, Will and Piper are already eighteen, Jason died at seventeen, Thalia and Reyna are both twenty-one, etc.

For all of y'all dissatisfied, don't worry: next is the epilogue where you will perhaps receive more closure, but I just really wanted to leave it open-ended like this, possibilities of Pecabeth's reunion floating around, but the acknowledgement that instead of choosing between Luke and Percy, Annabeth chose herself in the end, as it should've been all along.

Let me know what you thought ig. I love y'all, and thank you so much for reading so many of these chapters. Idk why y'all tolerate all of my stupidity and plot holes and stuff, but I love you guys for it. Thank you. (This might be my favorite multi-chap story I've done of all time. And I wouldn't have been able to do without your support and constructive criticism. Seriously.)

Until next time~

Kit xx

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mylifeisgore: Everything you just said was a fat mood. I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing, and it was mostly satisfactory as an ending? Thank you so much for reviewing consistently. I hope the epilogue will be just as enjoyable.

AnnabethChase-Wisdom'sDaughter: Thank you.

Reader: I too am also excited/frightened every time I write lol. yES. NO, I wanted y'all to feel a little bad for Luke. You're supposed to be conflicted, like Annabeth. You're supposed to feel like her. I feel like if I had had room to write a Luke POV, I really could've made you guys realize (maybe I'll release like a bonus chapter someday), but unfortunately this chapter was already getting too long. I'm really glad you felt kind of pitiful for him, even if it only lasted a couple minutes. It means I kind of accomplished my goal. Writing conflicting characters is always really complicated, and it gives me a headache lmao. IT IS. I love Wrong Direction by Hailee, and so I subtly dropped an easter egg, and sometimes people catch it, sometimes they don't, and it's really cool that you did. I actually have a lot of easter eggs throughout all my fanfics, and I get so excited when I come across fellow fans. :D Idk man. I just feel crappy when there's a shit ton of mistakes in my writing, mostly because I pride myself on my grammar and spelling, etc. I love tying fantasy with reality. It just shows how inhumane our world is, tying faults of the people around us into dystopian worlds, and then realizing that our world is as fucked up as these societies in some ways.

Percy x Nico friendship gives me the strength to wake up in the morning lol. Honestly the whole siren, naked thing sounds like some stupid idea I came up with in the shower, you know? It was def a high idea made from sleep deprivation XP See, but Annabeth did take Percy away from Luke. Percy was the one person Luke could trust in the entire world, and she pulled Percy into cheating with her. Obviously, Luke's psychopathic tendencies aren't exactly the best foundation to take moral high ground, but whatever man lmao. Personally, I think they're all fucked up: Percy, Luke, and Annabeth. None of them are exempt from their fatal mistakes. But that's what makes me love them all so much. *shrugs*

Yessssss Thaluke is bootiful. Yeah, I honestly ended up not delving super deep into Thalia x Reyna. I didn't really have room for it anywhere, and it felt super last minute (which it was, of course, because I hadn't planned for it). I say it's all up to interpretation. If y'all want to believe they were gay lovers, there's plenty of evidence for that in my story, but then there's also a lot of evidence for being strong, independent women. If someone asked me how I had intended to write it, though, I will say they're meant to be independent women.

NP! I love punching readers in the gut. Metaphorically, ofc. Lmao you're so sadistic. "Annabeth… grabbing Luke and causing him pain made me soo happy." I feel that on a spiritual level though.

Lmao yeah. I knew most of y'all would not believe I killed Percy, so I kept it till the end. Pls forgive me. "Yes this author still has a heart inside of her." LmAO. I hope so. Ahh, you almost called it. Percabeth def gtfo out of there, only they went separate ways, and only Percy's traveling the world. So ig you half-got your wish. (I'm waiting for you to maim me with anger after this chapter lol). Nah, Perce def faked his death. He would never disappear just to heal. He was a General, and a soon-to-be King. He knows his duties come first, and that is precisely why Annabeth had to convince him to leave, to save his sanity and life. Yisss. Billie Eilish is such a queen.

Honestly, I appreciate that so much. I think I will be taking a short break from multis, but I'll be releasing oneshots. I have an idea for a multi, so I'm thinking about doing that in the future, but for right now, I really need to chill after my three-year consistent posting lol. I'm tired, and even if this is a good release, I'm pursuing another project rn (shhh), so we'll see. :P Omg ik. I'm gonna be so sad in the epilogue lol. I feel like I've really learned a lot about some of you guys. I can't believe this story is almost a whole year old. I've had so much shit go on while I wrote this story, and it's crazy that's almost over.

You're amazing. You've been here since, what, Angels Fly Above? That's a shit ton of time. I have no idea how you're still sane. :D

Guest: No idea, homesie. (I'm flattered though. :P)

Deeksha.27: Are you kidding me? Of course I'm gonna analyze. You probably took so long to review. It would be so depressing if I just ignored it. :) Dang you're graduating already? I still got two more years to go lol. Congrats, though! :D Oh, I love analyzing. You've picked up on a lot of things I've left in this story, but there is one large thing you and everyone else missed. I think I'm most surprised you never analyzed my capitalization of the royalty. King, Queen, etc. It's not supposed to be capitalized. They're not proper nouns, and yet they're capitalized like one might put emphasis on God. I just thought it was fitting that they would be taller, larger, bigger in the eyes of others when it's actually all an artifice.

Ah, no way! I'm v new to BTS, but I absolutely adore them. Noooo, you're good. Most people don't peg me as a kpop Stan. I'm a hardcore rock and roll kinda girl, and so it's def weird that I like them as much as I do, but there's just something ethereal about BTS, and what can I say? I'm a sucker for aesthetics. ;) Out of curiosity, though, what did you think I was into? "Welcome to the bts family!" Thank you! Glad to be here lol. Ohhhh, ok. See, I had heard of VLive after getting into kpop a little, but I never really knew what that was. Thank you so much! Omg, see I didn't know a lot of this stuff that you're listing. I just casually listened to their album and stuff lmao. I'm a newbie XP I will def check that stuff out soon; my spring break is coming soon, so I'll have some down time hopefully. KARD? Never heard of them. I'm working out later today, though, and I love listening to music while I do that, so perhaps I'll give them a shot.

Yessss. I was so confused. I had heard of Jungshook, but I had not known shooketh was a kpop thing, so thanks for clarifying lol.

Review of 29th and 30th chapter response:

1. Percy's death:

Agh, exams are a pain in the ass. I hope they went well, though. :) Thank you so much! Yes, I was trying to conceal that she never saw his body, but I figured a few of you more analytical readers would catch it. Oml you're like the perfect type of reader. You catch everything that us writers try so fold in and cover up, and it's so exciting. Analytical readers are the best.

That's part of the reason I fake killed him off. I wanted to remind y'all that nobody is safe, not even Percy. Everyone dies sooner or later, and war is dangerous. It's not beautiful like poetry pretends, and it's not romantic, like some fanfics fake. It's hard. It's life or death. And Percy is not exempt from death; he is not immortal, and he too can die from a blade. "note, these are thoughts before you posted chapter 30, since you insisted on posting chapters as fast as the flash" Lmaoo, yeah, sorry about that. I just sort of hit a writing spur. It happens sometimes, and instead of waiting, I was excited to see your thoughts, so I quickly posted them back to back. Unfortunately, every chapter is like 10,000 words at least. "Its hard to digest that but its the simple truth, isn't it?" That's what I wanted this story to be in a nutshell, tbh. Uncomfortably real in some ways, and fake in all the ways that count.

"However, I feel like that it wouldn't fit the context in this situation because of all the building up you did for Percy's character: we followed his story from the very beginning (from Annabeth's perspective ofc) , so it wouldn't sit right if he died that way" And that is exactly why I saved him. I did want Annabeth to realize what her life would be like without him, however, which is why he also "died" in the first place. Once he was gone, it was only then that she realized her affection. "i had a vision of him fighting Luke to the death and him reigning supreme after a praiseworthy battle" This is where I must disagree with you. Percy would never kill Luke. Luke says it's cowardice, Annabeth knows it's because part of Percy will always believe he can reverse Medusa's poison and bring him back, and Percy… well we never got Percy's POV addressing his brother, so we'll never know exactly what he was thinking about all that, only that he regrets a lot according to Annabeth. That is why only Annabeth could kill him out of Percabeth. Luke and her could tear each other apart, as shown in their battle. They are both willing to sacrifice themselves to kill each other, and Percy could never do it. He loves them both too much.

"Also, I have to give credit that you didn't make their reunion a sappy one… (We can't have 2 important leaders sharing a passionate kiss on the battlefield right? God forbid, someone should try to kill them when, they are, um., distracted...lol)" Lmaooo, yes that would be highly uncomfortable. But I totally agree. Sappiness has no place in war. Love comes second, and you are one hundred percent correct.

"After that heartache, you pulled a reverse uno card, making sure Percy makes his grand entrance with his military uniform and family ring and all, damn you woman! (especially right after all the reminiscence, the funeral,etc., wow, what a punch to the gut. However, I would gladly take the punch if it were to bring our boy back.)" I particularly like the family ring detail, especially because he keeps it in this chapter. He will always be a royal, even when he's not, if that makes sense. People will never let him go, and that's what we see in this chapter. "But now, we are seeing him as this confident, fierce general that he actually was. That my friend, was a power move." Percy's stronger than Annabeth remembers, really. He's broken, but he never lets it show, and it's why everyone fears him even more than Luke sometimes. Percy's madness is less methodical than Luke's; it's spontaneous, it's dangerous, it's unreliable; his anger is the exact opposite of his usual personality, and he is like the sea: wild and reluctant to be controlled, though he is difficult to anger. "Did Chiron/Kayla have a significant part? ( as per my knowledge, they were free from Octavian's prison, but I don't remember any follow up after that)." Yeahhhh, that's my bad. I meant to follow up on them, but I totally forgot, and when I remembered, I couldn't figure out where to plug them in again. Pls forgive me lol. Katie's still fighting in the war, indifferent to Percy as far as we know, so no. It was just Drew, Drew who has always walked on eggshells, precariously balancing between good and bad, never quite fitting in one category.

2. Annabeth's growth in character and the significance of Percy's death on her:

"The connection they had, cannot be replaced because he was her very first of everything, her mirror reflection." A mirror reflection. That's exactly how I'd describe it. "the angel to her devil, the Jace to her Clary (or the other way around, lol)." Yes lol, I'd def say Annabeth's the Jace in their relationship. Strange. I've never even considered that. "Luke's love was obsessive. The fuel to his passion is "wanting what my brother most desires" and 'what reminds him of humanity". And, for a love to be true, shouldn't one respect their power, not fear it? Luke has tried everything : killing in her name, branding her, caging her, isolating her; desperately trying to break her spirit : all for making her his, but deep down, he knows that more than his passion for her, he FEARS her. Percy respects her powers. He encourages her to take charge, to be herself and true to her cause. Luke is the ol' possessive persona of a partner. Percy is the modern empowering persona of a lover. And when she made the choice, it subconsciously reflected her change in demeanor as well." THANK YOU. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Luke will always want control. He is a son of Medusa, and he is careful, and snake. He's cunning, and sharp, but Percy's different. He's not stupid or anything—far from it, as we've seen time and time again—but he's definitely the cheerleader. The only time he gets slightly possessive is when he gets protective, which is a different kind of protection than Luke. Luke protects her by locking her away, making sure only he can hurt her, and nobody else. Percy protects her from everything, even himself. It's a small difference, but it means the world.

"Additionally, when Annabeth was imprisoned in Octavian's cell, solitude broke her. But when she was incarcerated in Luke's cell, solitude molded her ever growing fire for freedom." I love this. I love you. You're such a fucking genius, and it makes me ridiculously happy that you picked up on these small details. Thank you so much. It reminds me that my efforts to add the tiniest details are not overlooked, even if only by one person.

3. Theories for next chapter:

I'm excited for the epilogue, no doubt. :) As fun as your theory is, as I said earlier, Percy could never fight Luke. It's out of character for him. It's very much in line with Annabeth, however. I do like Annabeth being the one to die in the end, but I ended up not pulling a Veronica Roth lol. I said only one character was left to die, and it was Luke. I can't kill Annabeth. Death isn't enough for her, as odd as that sounds. It's easy to die; it's much harder to live after trauma. And that's exactly what she gets.

I love the end of this chapter, and I can't wait to hear your thoughts about it. Annabeth's fear of the ocean has been going on throughout the entire story, and after Percy and Luke are gone, and she's on her own, symbolically of course (she still has her friends and some family), she finally overcomes it. It's definitely an interesting concept, but I thought it was only fitting to end the story like that.

Lol no I get it. No offense taken. :D I would def end a story with a major death; that sounds like me, but as I explained, I feel like her living leaves more emptiness with you guys than her dying. I suppose I'll just have to wait and see what you say though.

Is that even a question? I loved your reviews. :) Thank you so much, and I hope to see you again after this is out.

BethnPercy: Aww, your faith in me is much appreciated. I'm still in disbelief that most people actually believed my crappy lie that Percy died lol. "Well im still working through some logistics in my head but point is he's alive." Me too, sis. Those logistics are evaporating like wtf. I remember I planned his fake death in the shower (my fav place to plan lol), and curse me for not writing everything down because now I def don't remember some of my finer details. I'm really excited for my other works too. I have a couple ideas I'm writing out for a poll rn as I write this. :) I'm lowkey sad this has ended too, but I feel like it was time. I didn't want to drag it out too much and ruin it, but this story will always be special to me, perhaps the first ambitious idea I've ever truly tried. Annabeth is always a bad bitch. ;) Young Percy and Nico give me all the feels. They're so adorable. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing as always. You've been here so long, and your dedication amazes me every day. Lots of love xx