This is a rewritten version of my old, abandoned fanfiction. Hopefully, this version will be at least ten times better, and if not, 9.9 time minimum!
It's no secret that Athena disapproves of her daughter's choice of boyfriend. What might be. a slightly better-kept secret, however, is that Athena went as far as to reroute destiny itself in an attempt to get her favored daughter to see reason.
Annabeth Chase:
I was at school, sitting at my regular lunch table with stacks of sheets of graph paper spread out before me and a blinding headache stabbing me in the forehead every few seconds as I peered closely at the muddled mess of words on the textbook, when the owl came.
Now, owls aren't uncommon. They're my mother's symbol, after all, and so I have all kinds of owl-haunted memories – hanging above my bed in the form of a dream catcher as a fruitless attempt to ward off demigod dreams, plastered all over Cabin 9, dangling from my neck in a cute owl pendant necklace Percy gave to me – but I'd never seen a real, hooting owl.
I was sitting outside, because at least then I wouldn't be confined if a monster attacked me, and at least then I'd have an easier time leading the monster away from the other mortals. The sun was nearly non-existent and the clouds had painted the entire sky white, but the weather was still sweltering hot.
Just then, in the middle of the afternoon, I heard the soft hoot-hoot of an owl's screeches. I immediately leapt out of my seat, climbing the cafeteria table and uncapping my knife. It seemed logical at the time! – when you start hearing nocturnal animal noises in urban California and you're a demigod, you don't exactly hope for the best and continue in your back-breaking math homework.
Everyone sitting at the lunch table, which consisted of approximately one other girl who happened to be sleeping, abruptly woke up, screamed, and scrambled away from me. I swiveled around carefully, watching for the monster, when I heard a sharp, annoyed hoot! from right behind me.
I screamed and tumbled off the table, managing to land somewhat gracefully and brandish my knife at the creature. What I saw wouldn't have been all that surprising had I not been a demigod.
An owl.
Owls, which also coincidentally make hoot-hoot sounds.
Well.
Perhaps I should've expected that.
"Huge bee!" a teacher yelled, which didn't help at all.
I didn't relax, though. Maybe it was a monster, disguised as an owl. It could've been my mother, trying to test my reflexes and wit. She might've thought I needed training, that I was getting slow. It was true I hadn't practiced sword-fighting recently, but what with Percy getting banned from the arena because he once exploded it hadn't exactly helped.
The owl clutched a letter in its claws, and as it flapped closer to me, it dropped the creased envelope in my lap. It looked reproachfully at the scattered sheets of paper and left a last, disapproving hoot behind it as it flapped powerfully away.
I sighed heavily as I turned my attention to where the owl had been looking at, groaning and running a hand across my face. "Great," I said unenthusiastically. "Just great. I just had to knock over my homework, didn't I?"
Bending and gathering the papers together in my arms, I leaned against the bench and peeled open the letter flap, swallowing as I did so. Hopefully it didn't contain any news of impending wars or rising Titans.
To Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Frederick Chase:
I know you don't appreciate filler conversations. I don't either.
The gist of what I meant to say is that I don't approve of your relationship with the son of the sea scum. I've been monitoring your interactions, and nearly none of them were productive, with the exception of one where he convinced you to try a blue pancake. Those, admittedly, seem delightful.
Moving on – filler conversations are despicable – I've done a slight investigation into Perseus's memories, and I've made a book out of it. I'll send you to the past, where you haven't met Percy yet, and you will read it. You will believe the book to be a prophecy from Apollo, but will be compelled to not disclose the nature of the book to anyone else.
After you finish the book, you will be returned to the current time. Your original past self will return, and all events you have experienced will have never conspired in reality. If you still feel the irrational fondness for the sea spawn, I suppose I will have done my part. You are free to do whatever you wish with him.
You're welcome for the generosity.
From Lady Athena, Goddess of Crafts, Weaving, and All Civilization Products
...If that's not a winning example of the Best Mom of the Year, I don't know what is.
This might prove some justification for the flaming school bus parked in the school parking lot.
I remember something about a new modification to Apollo's sun ride, something about a new ability to travel through suns of different times. Something about a bus, something about a project of Athena's.
Oh.
This bus is for me, I know that much, but did my mother really arrange all this because she didn't like Percy? Would she really do that? Would she borrow Apollo, send me to the past and all this simply because of her rivalry with Poseidon?
On the other hand, she has started world wars merely because she was offended by something Poseidon had done. She'd also started some mass genocides of fish before, but that was all in the past now. Poseidon had retaliated with some of the world's fiercest book burnings, which had eventually been balanced out by –
Anyway, moving on. My mother was right about one thing: I really don't like filler conversations.
Let's step inside the sun bus, shall we? Can't hurt more than my mother smiting me because I didn't follow instructions, right?
Is that Apollo?
"I know I'm so hot.
Even hotter than the sun.
Hotter than the Earth," a low voice said from the driver's seat, disguised with an obnoxiously fake cough. "Guess who?"
"Apollo?" I asked dryly, stuffing my graph paper beneath the passenger seat and sitting down carefully, barely stopping myself from rolling my eyes.
"How'd you guess?"
This was going to be a long ride.