Hey guys! I am SO sorry for the unexpected hiatus this story was on. School was super tough this year, and then when I finally got to summer break I was too drained to write anything more. However, my amazing peeps Helena (GollyGeeWhiz) and Mia (herecomesthepun) gave me new inspiration for this story, so you can thank them by reading their fantastic Percabeth stories as well! I hopefully will be updating at least once a week from now on. Thank you so much for sticking with me!
And now, onto the story! :)
December 14th, 1774
"What the hell –" Annabeth muttered, staring down at the envelope in her hands.
"Language, Annabeth," Mrs. Chase reproved crossly, coming to look over her step-daughter's shoulder. "What have you there?"
"It's an invitation to the governor's Christmas ball," Annabeth replied wonderingly.
Mrs. Chase looked pleased. "'Tis good that it finally came. Your father managed to procure it, because he is in good standings with the governor."
Annabeth knew it was probably Major Pitcairn who truly made sure she had gotten the invitation, but she refrained from saying so. It would be a wonderful opportunity to gather some more intelligence for the Observers – the past few months had been quiet, for the most part.
"I'm going to go see if Percy received one, too," she said, tugging on her boots.
"Make sure to take your cloak!" Mrs. Chase hastily reminded her. Annabeth pulled her warm cloak around her slender shoulders and hurtled out the door, ignoring her stepmother's entreaties to be ladylike.
Outside the crisp, cold air hit her lungs suddenly. She gasped, enjoying the feeling of fresh, icy wind around her after being cooped up indoors all day. She glanced up; the sky was a dull grey. Snow would soon be following.
Sure enough, as she continued running down the busy street, tiny flakes began to drift in the chilly breeze, tangling in her eyelashes and melting on her flushed cheeks. She laughed, spinning around a few times in the already-increasing storm before remembering her purpose.
A few minutes more of brisk walking and she reached the pub where many of the idle British soldiers spent their time. Percy often visited for a mug of good ale, trying to catch any bit of gossip he could.
She burst in through the door, the bell jangling. The warmth of a roaring fire warmed her face, and the smell of sweaty men surrounded her, quite a change from the fresh air outside. She wrinkled her nose, searching quickly around the room for Percy.
A head of tousled black hair caught her eye, sitting in a table in the corner. She darted nearer, ignoring the crude whistling of tipsy soldiers. As long as Percy was there to protect her, she would be fine.
"Percy!" she called, throwing back her hood and waving the envelope in the air. Her best friend turned at the sound of her voice, face brightening. Annabeth ignored the fluttering in her heart that his warm smile brought and scurried to him, dodging tables and trays of ale.
She hugged him quickly in greeting, ignoring the stares. It wasn't the most proper thing to do, hug a young man in plain sight, but in her excitement Annabeth didn't give a damn. She breathed in the scent of warm ale, smoke, and sweat that his uniform carried before pulling away hastily.
"What brings you're here, 'beth?" he asked, a bright smile in place.
She laughed. "Look! An invitation to Governor Tryon's Christmas ball has just arrived."
His grin widened. "Yes, I heard that you would be receiving one. I wanted to keep it a surprise, though." He pulled a matching envelope from a pocket inside his bright-red jacket. "Are you excited?"
"Excited? I could dance a jig!" Annabeth exclaimed, throwing her arms around him again. "I've never been to a ball. What's it like?"
Percy invited her to sit down opposite of him, and she sat quickly. "Well, I've only been to a few back in England, but from what I remember…" he paused, as though searching his memory. "There's dancing, obviously, and a huge table piled with food. Oh, and there's always musicians playing festive waltzes in the corner. We all laugh and talk and such, and the guests are introduced as they enter."
"It sounds amazing," Annabeth sighed. She normally wasn't hugely interested in events like this, but her interest was piqued this time.
Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that Percy would be coming as well. The idea.
"'Tis quite enjoyable," Percy admitted, green eyes sparkling. Annabeth didn't notice how his gaze rested upon her a second longer than normal.
"Well, I must be getting back," she said reluctantly, standing from her chair. "I just wanted to see if you had one too. I am very glad you do."
"Yes, I am as well," Percy told her, pushing his chair back with a scraping noise to stand beside her. He offered her his arm. "May I see you out?"
They walked out together, and the other soldiers had the decency to not whistle in the face of Percy's glare. Annabeth wondered if he was just being a bit overprotective – in the past few months she had certainly grown used to the soldiers' lust-filled glances and crude jokes – or maybe it was something more.
The bell dinged behind them as they stepped into the street. Bitterly cold air swirled around them, and Annabeth was surprised at the amount of snow that had accumulated in such a short time.
Percy glanced up at the sky, brow furrowing. "The storm's getting worse," he noted. "Should I get Blackjack and we can ride home together?"
"No, I'll be fine," Annabeth reassured him. In a moment of impetuousness, she raised herself on tiptoes and kissed his cheek quickly. "Don't worry about me. I'll see you at supper tonight?"
Percy's cheeks were as red as his coat, but he managed to stutter out, "Why, yes. Uh, yes, I shall be there." He turned back into the tavern, smiling softly. "Farewell, Annabeth."
"Goodbye, Percy," Annabeth said, fondly watching him as he disappeared back into the tavern. After he was gone, she began walking briskly back down the street, which was quickly becoming deserted in the snow.
•
December 16th, 1774
"The governor's ball is on December 27th, Mother," Annabeth protested, falling gracelessly into a stuffed horsehair chair in the parlor. The roaring fire crackled next to her, sending waves of heat around the room. "I must have a new dress!"
"You know funds are low, dear," Mrs. Chase said stubbornly. "Material costs money, and in this troubled time, money is scarce to be found."
Annabeth knew her stepmother somehow had found the funds to make herself a new dress for the holiday season, but she decided not to point that out. Instead, she pulled on her cloak and stormed outside, only to crash into Percy taking the stairs two at a time. She slipped and lost her balance, nearly falling down the ice-slicked stairs, but Percy caught her, arms moving to her waist.
"Alright there, 'beth?" he asked, raising and eyebrow. "You weren't paying attention at all. Is something bothering you?"
Annabeth sighed. The problem of new dresses suddenly seemed silly and immature in the face of the growing unrest in Boston. Redcoats were idle, and with idleness came trouble. People were beginning to protest more at the soldiers taking over their houses during the holiday season.
"Nothing," she lied, biting her lip.
Percy looked at her knowingly. "Something's wrong," he noted. "You've been chewing on your lip again, and you just came storming out of the house the way you do when you're upset."
Annabeth huffed. "'Tis nothing, Percy. Seriously. I'm just – tired. That's all."
"Is this about the governor's ball?" he asked, raising a thick black eyebrow.
Annabeth sighed again. "Yes. I just – I wanted a new dress. And funds apparently are low – I know they are – but my stepmother got herself material for a new one, and I thought – well –" Annabeth paused. "I know, I'm being childish about it – but this is my first ball, you know? And I wanted it to be – well, extra special."
Percy took her hand, gesturing inside. She followed him reluctantly. They pulled off their cloaks and boots, and Percy led her upstairs to his room.
"Why are we up here?" Annabeth asked, sitting down on his bed.
Percy rummaged through one of his trunks, back turned to her. "I was going to wait until Christmas to give you your present," he admitted, pulling something out of the trunk, "but I think now would be appropriate." He turned to her, and Annabeth gasped.
In his hands was a large amount of thick, dark blue satin. Annabeth covered her mouth with her hands in shock. "I hope it's enough," Percy said shyly. "I got it in Williamsburg – I saw the color and just immediately thought of you."
"It's – it's – Percy!" Annabeth squealed, throwing her arms around him. He dropped the fabric, arms tightening around her and burying his head in her curls. "Percy, it's – it's perfect," she told him as they pulled away. "I could not ask for a gift more timely or beautiful." She stooped to the floor and picked it up, unfolding it. The rich blue satin was warm and soft to the touch, shimmering as she moved it. "I don't know how to thank you."
"Really, it is I that should be thanking you," Percy said earnestly, sitting down next to her on his bed. "All this year, you have become such an amazing friend to me. I came to the colonies a frightened boy. I feel like with your guidance, I have grown into a man – hopefully a good one."
"You have, Percy," Annabeth said, hugging the fabric closer to her bosom and squeezing Percy's hand, a lump growing in her throat. "You have."
•
December 27th, 1774
Annabeth turned slowly in the full-length mirror, looking in wonder at her reflection. With her stepmother's help, the dress had been completed in time for the ball.
A wide neck showed off more cleavage than she would have liked, but the milliner assured them it was the height of fashion back in London; around her neck a pearl necklace hung, almost touching the delicate lace surrounding her bosom. The sleeves went to her elbows, and then creamy lace flowed in gentle waves around her forearms. A tight corset pulled her waist smaller than she had ever seen it, though it was a bit hard to breathe. The skirt flared around her now-tiny midsection, the rich velvet cascading to touch the ground. Matching dancing slippers adorned her feet, set with lace and pearls.
Her stepmother had done her hair, as well. Instead of her normal frizzy, unruly curls, shiny ringlets fell to her waist. The top curls were pinned in a fancy updo, with bouncy ringlets framing her face. A string of pearls was the finishing touch, winding themselves around the blonde curls and sparkling in the light of the lamp.
Mrs. Chase stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "Annabeth, you look beautiful," she said. Annabeth, for once, felt no animosity towards her stepmother and, on a whim, embraced her.
"Thank you, mother. For everything," she whispered into her ear.
Mrs. Chase wiped her eyes as she pulled away. "Percy's waiting downstairs," she said shakily. "Are you read to show him?"
Annabeth pressed her lips together in nervousness. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said.
As she descended the stairs, she saw Percy pacing nervously in the hall and she almost chuckled. The velvet swished as she moved, mimicking the way her curls swayed softly around her face.
Percy turned around as she descended the final steps. Annabeth saw his face transform, mouth falling open at her appearance. Her cheeks flushed, and she reach up to touch them hesitantly.
"Do – do I look alright?" she asked him uncertainly.
Percy touched her cheek, mouth still slightly open. "You look – amazing, Annabeth," he said softly, pupils blown, though Annabeth didn't know why. He kissed her hand gently, and she felt her heart flutter.
It had been doing that a lot when her best friend was around.
She got a good look at him while he bowed. His officer's uniform had been cleaned and pressed meticulously, the stains purged and white linen handkerchief tucked into the throat. His tan breaches also were perfectly washed, and knee-high black boots shone in the soft light of the lantern. Mrs. Chase must have cut his hair for him; it was swept to the side and combed neatly. For once, Annabeth could see his eyes clearly, without a fringe of shaggy black hair covering them.
She caught her breath, gaze sweeping over his broad shoulders in the coat. What was happening to her?
Percy offered her his arm, still in awe. "The carriage is waiting," he said softly.
She offered him a crooked smile. "Then let us be off."
They walked out together arm-in-arm. A hired coachman waited with the horses, and Percy helped Annabeth into the carriage before getting in himself. Snow swirled around them as he shut the door and pulled the lap-coat over Annabeth's swaying hoopskirt.
"So." Annabeth broke the nervous silence. "I am extremely hungry."
The tension broke in an instant. Percy guffawed, his handsome face contorting into laughter. "Leave it to you to say that as we travel to the governor's palace," he said.
"I just cannot wait for the food!" Annabeth protested. "You said there are mountains of biscuits, and punch, and cakes, and – "
"Yes, Annabeth, there are many delicacies at the ball," Percy assured her. "In fact, I believe they even have hot chocolate – a new thing in London. You will enjoy it immensely, I assure you."
Annabeth smiled mischievously. "I'll take your word for it."
The carriage bumped along in comfortable silence. Annabeth scooted closer to Percy, and his arm went around her almost unconsciously, warding away the winter chill. Within a few moments, they had arrived at the palace.
The coachman hopped down and opened the door for them. Percy again helped Annabeth out of the carriage; she held her skirt carefully, high above the mud and slush.
Percy escorted her up the wide opening staircase into the mansion. Annabeth felt a tingle of nerves as they grew closer to the door.
It opened; they went through. She clenched Percy's hand tighter.
The first thing that hit her were the sounds. A myriad of people chattered gaily, tinkling laughter floating up to where Percy and Annabeth entered.
The governor himself and his wife move to greet them at the doorway as maids took their cloaks.
"Lady Chase," the governor said, bowing deeply and kissing her hand. "Officer Jackson." He nodded to Percy.
After greeting their hosts, the two walked down the quiet, dim hall, growing closer to the lights and sounds. "I'm a bit nervous," Annabeth admitted.
"Of what?" Percy murmured.
Annabeth flushed. "I don't really know," she answered. "I just – am."
Percy glanced at her, muted awe in his gaze. "You'll be fine," he promised. The pair stepped over the threshold into the ballroom.
Annabeth blinked.
The entire room was awash in light. Lamps hung in gilded stands on the walls, shedding light over the dance floor. People stood in clustered groups, the women in all colors of gorgeous gowns, and the men in their finest suits. Officers in their signature bright-red coats dotted the floor.
A huge table loaded with food stood in the corner. Fruitcakes, cream cakes, and all other manner of cakes stood in symmetry around a flowered centerpiece; where they had gotten the flowers in the middle of December Annabeth had no idea. Large platters piled high with sugared biscuits were placed around the cakes, and platters of fruit made an appearance next to them.
In the corner opposite to the food table were four musicians, playing a bright waltz. A few couples were dancing, but Percy had told her the real dances wouldn't begin until later.
Annabeth scanned the room again. Pink taffeta, yellow satin, and green silk gowns were all around her, but she privately thought hers was the loveliest of all. Though it might not have been simply the dress, but rather the giver of the dress that was causing her opinions to be biased.
She glanced to her right where Percy had been, and saw with a start that he wasn't there anymore. She glanced around to find him making a beeline to the refreshment table. He glanced back and waved for her to follow. She chuckled and did so, though at a slower pace.
"These biscuits are amazing," Percy told her, his mouth full. Annabeth laughed and took one daintily off the platter.
The two chatted about everyday things for a while before Annabeth suddenly leaned closer and whispered, "There's the governor. He's talking to Major Pitcairn – I wonder why?"
"Should I move closer?" Percy whispered back.
Annabeth held up her hand absentmindedly. "No, I shall. Stay here, alright?" She smiled reassuringly at him before quickly moving around chatting couples, trying to get closer to the general and the governor.
"–the rebels have been storing up gunpowder," she heard Governor Tryon say in a low voice. "If they manage to get ahold of guns, too, then they could become more than a small problem."
"I know, sir," Major Pitcairn agreed. "Governor Dunmore of Williamsburg recently told me the rebels are storing up gunpowder there as well, and in larger supply. If, perhaps, our soldiers could get their hands on it…"
"That would be both beneficial to our cause and a loss to theirs," the governor mused. He opened his mouth to say something else, but at that moment, Major Pitcairn caught sight of Annabeth.
"Good evening, Miss Chase," he said, nodding in greeting. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
Annabeth quickly fell into her role of Loyalist spy. "I am, sir. Thank you kindly for having us, Governor," she added with a curtsy.
"Miss Chase here is one of our most valuable spies," Major Pitcairn informed the governor in a lowered tone. "She had brought us valuable information we otherwise never could have obtained.
The governor bowed deeply. "Your king thanks you for your bravery, and your loyalty, Miss Chase," he said. "The entire nation of England, and these pesky young colonies, are being helped by your obedience."
Annabeth held back a smirk and curtseyed politely again. "It is my pleasure to serve our King, sir."
Governor Tryon smiled. "'Tis refreshing to see a young person so willing to help her country. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go find my wife. The dancing will begin soon." He nodded to the Major and Annabeth and left.
Annabeth hurried back over to Percy. "Did you get any information?" he asked quietly as he snuck another biscuit.
Annabeth slapped his hand teasingly. "Just how many of those have you had?" she inquired. In a murmur, she answered, "A bit. Tell you later."
Percy nodded in understanding and shrugged, raising his voice a notch. "Only… I don't quite remember. Maybe seven?"
Annabeth rolled her eyes fondly. "You're going to be sick! Besides, the governor said we are about to start dancing."
Percy's cheeks flushed slightly. "I – uh, well. My mother never had enough money to send me to dancing lessons with the other young men back in England. So – I most definitely am not the best dancer."
Annabeth could feel her hear constrict. "Don't worry," she told him, taking his hand as they strode to the dance floor. "I'm with you. You'll be fine."
"What are you, the best dancer in the colonies?" Percy asked teasingly as they lined up with all the other couples. There were probably at least a few dozen pairs, maybe more. It was surely the largest party Annabeth had ever been to.
She shrugged, sparkle in her eye. "My mother made me endure etiquette lessons with one of her dear friends once we moved to the colonies. It was positively awful, but I did learn how to dance."
Percy chuckled, obviously less nervous. "I can hardly picture the Annabeth who climbs apple trees to the very highest branches and jumps off fallen logs into the river, at dancing lessons."
Annabeth made a face. "'Tis true. It took threats from my stepmother and bribery from my father to make me attend. The other young ladies were stuffy and rude." She paused, remembering. "I feel like…" she leaned closer to his ear. "I feel like that was when I first began having doubts about being loyal to England. Of course, I didn't understand any of the politics back then, but I was sure that if the other girls were proper young ladies, I certainly did not want to be one!"
Percy laughed in agreement, just as the musicians began to play a smooth waltz. The ladies curtseyed to the partners and the men bowed, and just like that, the dancing began.
"Left," Annabeth hissed instructions as they danced. "No, your other left. Not your foot, your hand. Other direction – now spin me – " Percy spun her gracefully, and she breathed a sigh of relief, until a sharp stab of pain radiated from her slippered foot. She let out a small squeal of surprise and pain. The couples around them sent curious glances their way, but she ignored them.
"You stepped on my foot, you donkey," she hissed at him with a smile plastered on her face.
Percy turned bright red as he side stepped and took her hand again daintily. "I a-apologize," he stuttered. "I mean, I meant – "
Annabeth had to laugh. "'Tis fine. I'm sure you will get more adept at this – eventually," she added with a sigh as Percy nearly went sprawling.
She was right, though. Within a few dances, Percy's feet became much lighter, and the fourth piece the musicians played was something familiar to him. They were the most elegant couple in the room, Annabeth thought with just a hint of pride.
"So, did you find out any information?" Percy asked in a low tone.
She lowered her voice as well. "Governor Dunmore, the governor of Williamsburg, believes the Patriots storing gunpowder could become a threat. Major Pitcairn suggested the redcoats steal it, which would be a blow to our side."
"But surely they don't expect a war?" Percy asked, brow burrowing.
Annabeth sighed. "I honestly – don't know. At this point everyone in the colonies is wound so tense, I'm surprised no major blood has been shed yet."
"Are you afraid?" he asked her.
"Yes," she answered without hesitation, twirling gracefully around Percy's raised hand. "I am afraid. Afraid of how this could change the colonies, how this could change England – afraid of how this could change people I love."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "You think it would affect us as well?" he asked.
Honestly, he was so dense. "Percy, you're a British soldier," she said out loud, and murmured, "and a Patriot spy. My father is a Loyalist doctor. Both of you would probably be going to war, if there was one. You could be injured, maybe even killed, and I –" she took a deep breath, choking away the lump in her throat. "I don't know how I would bear it. You on one side, other friends on the opposite."
Percy nodded grimly. "I understand what you mean." He pursed his lips. "Hopefully it won't come to that."
She nodded back, pushing her fears to the back of her head. This was a party, a celebration of Christmas. Most likely, England and the colonies would work out their differences without bloodshed.
At least, she hoped.
Dancing, she found out, was also good because one could steal stealthy glances at one's partner. She found herself staring at the way the bright red coat highlighted his broad shoulders, or how his hair just brushed the lacy collar, and how the knee-high boots he had paired with his breeches made him seem even taller, if that was possible.
She blushed at her thoughts. How many times had she told herself that Perseus Jackson was her best friend? She wasn't willing to mess that up by trying to court him, especially if he wasn't interested in her the same way she was.
And, truth be told, Annabeth didn't want her feelings for Percy to grow. In all honesty, the double-spy routine would eventually get one or both of them killed. If it was Percy, well – she couldn't even bear the thought.
For now, they were friends. That was all they needed to be.
The dance finished with a final spin, and outside Annabeth could hear the wind calling ominously. They were probably due for another snowstorm tonight.
"Shall we obtain some more biscuits?" she asked Percy with a grin. The other guests began mingling, taking a break from dancing for a little while.
"Do you even have to ask?" he questioned seriously, and Annabeth handed him some apricot preserves and a biscuit. They ate, chatting about nothing, leaving Annabeth much too much time with her thoughts.
"Oh look, the servants are setting out the hot chocolate," Percy pointed out. "I heard it originally came from Spain, but many people back in London drink it as well."
"What does it taste like?" Annabeth questioned as they moved closer.
Percy considered. "It's creamy, but not too creamy. A bit frothy; very sweet, extremely rich. Sometimes people might add spices, like cinnamon."
Annabeth shrugged. "Sounds good." She and Percy soon both had cups of the steamy liquid. At her first taste, she moaned quietly.
Percy laughed next to her. "That good?"
"That good," she confirmed. She drained the rest of her cup. "Oh look, what are they setting out now?"
Percy glanced to where she nodded, and faltered. "Uh, I don't think – I mean, this might not be the best –"
"Percy," ordered Annabeth bossily. "Tell me what it is."
He sighed, a small grin creeping onto his face. "Champagne, 'beth."
"Oh! Can I try some? Father never let me have it at any of the other parties he made me go to," Annabeth exclaimed.
Percy rolled his eyes. "'Tis a good thing we have a carriage coming for us," he joked dryly, but got up from his seat.
After they obtained crystal glasses of the liquid, Annabeth bumped her cup to his playfully. "To friendship?" she suggested.
She saw Percy swallow. "To friendship," he repeated, and the cups clinked.
•
"What time is it?" Annabeth asked sleepily.
Percy checked his watch. "Almost three o'clock in the morning," he responded. Annabeth yawned as she pulled on her thick cloak.
"That was a lovely, lovely party," she said foggily. "I wish it would never end."
She heard Percy laugh quietly. "I already know you had far too much champagne, but are you tired, Annabeth?"
She groaned. "Yes, very much. How are you not?"
He chuckled. "Well, you remember I did opt out dancing a few times. I also didn't drink a dozen glasses of champagne."
Annabeth was loudly indignant. "I didn't drink a dozen," she told him, and her words ran together just a bit. "I only had – perhaps – six?"
Percy rolled his eyes dryly. "As if that should reassure me."
She yawned again as Percy tugged his woolen coat on over his uniform. "You have nice shoulders," she told him suddenly. "I mean I like your shoulders a lot. It's not ladylike to look at men's shoulders, but I'm not a very good lady."
She wondered why Percy was wheezing with laughter. "I could never have guessed you were not a proper lady, Annabeth," he said wryly. "Or," and his eyes twinkled, "that you enjoy my shoulders so much."
She made a face at him that her stepmother would most definitely not approve of. By then most of the other guests had left; only a few were still inside. "Ready to face the storm?" he asked.
"Our carriage should be here," she told him, bossy even when sleep deprived.
It was not. The two stood in the fresh powder shivering and waiting for their carriage, but it did not come.
"Perhaps the snow was too deep," Annabeth said logically.
She heard Percy sigh next to her, and it was nice. She leaned against him, her exhausted frame taking advantage of his broad shoulders. The snow was falling much more gently now compared to the earlier storm, but if not for the warm lamplight flickering from the windows of houses down the deserted, snowy street, they would never have found their way.
"Should we walk?" Percy suggested. "Your home isn't far from here; surely less than a mile. The snow isn't too deep if we walk in the tracks of the carriages from earlier."
He was right; only a few inches of powder covered the tracks from the other guests. It would be no trouble at all to walk home.
At least, Annabeth didn't think it would be.
Only a few dozen meters, it felt like her legs were too tired to stand, let alone trudge through the snow. Percy hadn't seemed to notice she had dropped behind, and she trudged slower and slower until her legs simply couldn't take it anymore.
"Annabeth?" she heard him call in a haze of sleep.
"I'm… too… tired," she tried to explain.
She could hear the smile in his voice. "Well, we can't have you falling asleep on the streets, now can we?" He knelt down next to her. "Climb on my back. I shall carry you home."
That caused her to wake up a bit more. "Oh, Percy, you don't have to –" she protested sleepily, trying to scramble to her feet. The movement made her head swim a bit, and she closed her eyes.
"Whoa there," Percy reassured her. "Just climb on my back. You're in no state to be going home like this."
She still hesitated, even in her foggy state, and Percy tried to soothe her. "'Tis a bit improper, but 'tis also three in the morning. No one will see."
Annabeth was still a bit hesitant, but she loved Percy. If Percy thought it was alright, it was alright.
She climbed on his back and he stood up, wobbling a bit to keep his balance.
"I like your hair, too," she told him. "You have snow all over it."
She felt his shoulders shake with laughter as they began to walk down the street. It was a bit awkward; Percy's hands were squishing her legs under her many layers of petticoats and skirts, and her cloak was stick awkwardly under his arm, but it somehow felt perfect.
Also, his left shoulder was an amazing pillow.
"I like your hair as well, 'beth," he told her. "I love how it gets lighter in the summer, and the way you wear it down all the time just because your mother tells you to tie it back. I love the freckles on your nose when you've been in the sun, and I love the way you look when you're not worried about anything and you're just – happy." He pauses, for a moment, breathing heavily from carrying her.
Annabeth takes a moment to process. She was no expert, but even her fuzzy mind could figure out that the way Percy was talking sounded a bit more than simply best friends. It sounded almost as if –
No. Percy didn't care about her in that way. She cared about him like that, but it would pass.
"I'm in love with you, Annabeth," he said suddenly, and even Annabeth's incoherent brain can figure out that with no help.
Maybe her previous assumptions were off a tad.
"Why?" she asked him. Because telling him she loved him back would be – would be too final. She couldn't say it, not yet. Not when she could lose him any day.
Perhaps it was selfish. No, Annabeth knew it was selfish. Selfish to hide her feelings in hopes that they would simply – go away with time. Deep down, she knew they wouldn't go away. She knew they would only grow, the more time she spent with her best friend. Especially now, especially now that –
But Percy was answering her question.
"Well…" he said unsurely. Obviously of the responses he had chartered in his head, why hadn't been one of them. "I just – I don't know. Because you're brave, and clever, and you stand up for yourself, and you're ambitious, but always for other people, and – dammit, Annabeth. You're just you."
It was a far longer speech than she had honestly expected. Because he was right. She was Annabeth, and that was the problem. People didn't seem to stick around, when it came to her. Even Thalia and Luke, the constants in her life before Percy, had drifted away a bit recently. She wasn't even sure why; they refused to even admit to it.
"All right," she said, putting her head down in exhaustion on his back when it hit her again.
He was her best friend.
And he'd just said he was in love with her.
But she was never – never – going to say anything or encourage him in that way. She couldn't. If she died – and she most likely would, the odds of a spy were slim, let alone a double-crossing spy – she wouldn't be able to bear leaving Percy behind.
Or the other way around. That – no. She wouldn't even think about Percy getting hurt. Percy was going to live, even if she didn't. He deserved that. Percy was Percy, and she couldn't lose him. Not now, not ever.
"I can't – I can't say I'm in love with you too," she told him, and could physically feel his deep hurt at her words. She hastened to explain – "Not because I'm not – I am – but because I can't love you like that. I can't, Percy. I can't lose you too."
She felt his hair brush her cheek as he nodded slowly. "I – I cannot say I am not disappointed," he said, and Annabeth could hear the slight break in his voice. It broke her, too; she clenched her fists so hard she felt a drop of blood run down her right palm.
"You most likely will not even remember this tomorrow," Percy said, softer. Annabeth could hear how his voice was choked and the way he was trying to hide it. For her. He was trying not to hurt her, even after she had crushed him.
It made her heart physically hurt.
Percy was still talking, and Annabeth did her best to listen, but everything was slowing down in her mind. "We can – just… go back to normal. Be best friends." The way he said it, like Annabeth had shoved knives into his body with her words, pounded on her exhausted mind and body, torturing her.
But this was necessary. Her feelings – and his – would go away. It was just a matter of time.
They were almost to their house now; the snow fell gently and softly and completely oblivious to how Annabeth had just wrecked her best friend in the world.
Her last memory was how soft his shoulder was when she laid her head down and fell into a deep sleep.
•
Annabeth blinked twice before actually opening her eyes.
Everything hurt.
Honestly, she had never before thought that light should be banned from a room, but this was too much. The winter morning sunlight filtering in through the windows in her room set her head pounding.
A maid bustled in with a tray. "Here you are, Miss Chase," she said, setting it down and exiting before Annabeth could get her mind around to thanking her.
She looked down, wincing. A plate of toast, eggs, preserves, and muffins sat in the middle. On the edge was a full mug of water with a piece of paper peeking out from underneath it. She raised her eyebrows and pulled it out: a note from Percy.
Dear Annabeth,
I don't know how much of later last night you will remember, but be it suffice to say that you had a good deal of champagne and probably have a bit of a headache this morning. I've had more than my share of late nights and whiskey, so I will say from experience that drinking water helps a good deal.
All my love,
Percy
Annabeth smiled, folding back up the little note. Last night had been amazing, but it felt like something was missing, like she had forgotten something important. Her last memory was pulling on her cloak and getting ready to leave the party in the wee hours of the morning.
Wait. No, a flash of something else came to her mind. She pushed through the pain of her aching head, trying to remember.
The carriage hadn't come, so she and Percy had begun walking home… and he had carried her. Not that it mattered much – he had carried her on his back often during their stay at her grandparents' plantation – but they had been talking, and she had realized something. Something important.
However hard she tried, she couldn't remember. So she ate her breakfast and wasn't even surprised when a gently knock sounded on her door.
"Are you decent?" Percy asked, voice muffled.
She glanced down. She was in her shift, but still under the coverlet. Percy had seen her in less. "Come in," she called, quickly drinking the water.
Percy peeked his head around the door, then came in and sat down on her bed. His hair was scruffy, like he had just gotten out of bed, and he only wore his nightshirt over his breeches. They were half tucked in and half untucked, and Annabeth found it strangely endearing.
"How's your head?" he asked honestly, and she had to laugh.
"Rather terrible," she admitted. "But you're right, the water helps."
He chuckled. "Yes, as I said, I've had experience." He paused, green eyes turning wary. "Do you – do you remember anything from last night?"
"Well, obviously I remember the party," she told him. "And remind me to make a stop the silver shop to tell Paul Revere about the gunpowder conversation I heard." He nodded. "I remember you carried me home," she added with a quick laugh, and wondered why his expression suddenly turned guarded. "But no, not much else."
"So… you don't remember anything we talked about on the way home?" he asked, his scruffy black eyebrow raised.
"Why, no," Annabeth said, a little confused. "Should I?"
"Oh, no! I mean, we didn't talk about anything important." He laughed nervously, and Annabeth's brow furrowed, trying to figure out why he was acting strange. "Well, I'd better be going. Major Pitcairn expects me later this morning."
He was almost to the door when Annabeth finally got over the suddenness and opened her mouth. "Percy?" she called, and he stuck his head back in. "Are – are you alright?"
"Yes," he answered quickly. Too quickly. "I'm fine."
And with that, he was gone, leaving Annabeth with a pounding headache and a mind buzzing with questions.
And that's it! It's a bit of a longer chapter, but you guys deserve it after me not updating for months. Hope you enjoyed it! Extra shout out to Helena for doing an amazing job editing this chapter and catching a ton of mistakes. Love you, girl!
Thank you all my amazing readers! xxx Please leave a review and tell me what you thought!
WM