Sorry for not updating! Nemesis hates me! My power was cut off for five days, my Internet for a WEEK! Torture, I tell you!

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 17:

Warmth

Thalia was starting to get worried. Annabeth had run out of the weaving room, and had not been seen for over an hour.

It was bucketing down with rain, the wind was howling, and branches were speeding through the air like deadly missiles.

Thalia paced inside the weaving hut, hands behind back, crease in brow constantly deepening. The maid Ella watched skittishly, her teeth clenched, eyes nervously scanning the dark village for any signs of the young princess.

Chiron, annoyed with Thalia's continuous movement, rolled forward and put his hand on her arm, gazing up at her compassionately. "All will be fine, my dear," he said kindly. Thalia sank down into a chair involuntarily. "I'm sure the young princess is a resourceful girl— I would not expect her to stray from wherever she has seeked shelter from the storm."

Thalia nodded at his wise words, but it did nothing to quench her anxiety.

No matter what he said, it didn't change the fact that it was still raining torrentially, and the wind was still wailing, and Annabeth was still missing.

"Where are you taking me!" Annabeth growled, shaking her assaulter's hands off her arm.

Percy's grip was unfaltering, tight and uncomfortable. "Doesn't matter," he snapped.

Annabeth decided not to mention the fact that she had no shoes on, and nobody knew where she was.

Percy half dragged her away from the village, and she stumbled blindly in the darkness, her tender soles aching, unaccustomed to treading on rocks and sticks and other unknown things.

When a particularly sharp stone bit into her heel, she cried out and Percy looked back at her. His face softened a tad when he saw that she had no shoes on. Annabeth gritted her teeth; she should never have made a noise.

"Why didn't you tell me you had no footwear?" he said, frowning at her as he stopped and pulled off his sandals, passing them to her. She glared at him and pushed them away.

"I don't need your pity!"

His nose wrinkled in confusion at her ludicrousness. "It's not pity. I can see that it hurts you to walk bare foot over the gravel. Take my shoes."

Annabeth glared at his hand, until her resolve weakened and she huffed, then took them. Because he was right— she had no idea where they were going, how long it would take to get there, and what other underbrush she would have to trek over to get there.

Percy's hold on her loosened until he was merely clasping her skinny wrist between his index and thumb, guiding her over loose gravel. She stumbled a couple of times. Percy hid his small smirk at her apparent clumsiness.

After many minutes of silence between the two, Annabeth once again asked where he was taking her.

Percy didn't say anything for a minute, but then he lifted his head and said, albeit sheepishly, "I forgot, actually. I was angry, and sometimes I don't think when I'm angry. I'm sorry if I hurt you, My Lady."

Annabeth waved his apology off. "You have no reason to apologise to me. I probably deserve it anyway. And I'd rather not be reminded of my royal heritage."

Percy glanced at her sideways. "You're different to what I thought you would be." He said.

Annabeth knitted her brow, puzzled. "How do you mean?"

"I always imagined you to be— well, not like this. Um—"

"You're confusing me, Percy. I don't understand."

"Pretty," Percy spit out, his face red. "There were stories told of an old hag who ate children, who was locked in the tower for her ugliness. But you're pretty. And not like a princess should be. You know— conceited and arrogant. Stuck up. You have a sense of empathy, I think."

He didn't meet her eyes, a blush covering his cheeks at his stuttering. "Oh," she said softly. "I never really had proper training to be a princess. The main rules when I was young were: sit up straight, stay still, be quiet and don't pester Father. I was never allowed to wear pants— it was always dresses, stockings, strange hats, shawls.

"I used to steal overalls from the guards' washrooms and sneak out at night wearing them to climb trees with my friend Clarrisse. We weren't friends at the start- she hated me because I was small and soft spoken. But I pestered and nagged her until she finally relented and taught me how to be a tomboy— an anti- princess." Annabeth sighed and fingered the faded overalls she wore now. "It was certainly more tolerable than having to adorn gold and ridiculously expensive dresses for every day wear. Don't even get me started on the costumes and expenditure displayed on the evening of my father's birthday party."

Percy was silent for a minute, just glancing occasionally over at her, his brow creased. "The monarchy is seen to be weak and greedy in struggling villages like ours. We don't even have a proper name- we are just the king's property. He doesn't care whether people die in bandit raids, whether the Shamans are behaving, whether all the old alliances are still intact." Percy said, once again staring ahead into the distant hills and purple clouds that were rolling across the sky. "People assume the princess is no more than a figure head. A marionette with which money and power pulls its strings."

Annabeth laughed bitterly. "At that time, I wasn't much more than a puppet for my father to manoeuvre. It was disgraceful, how my father treated me. He spoke to me only when he needed something. In fact, we hadn't spoken in many weeks when he summoned me to the Great Hall to address the issue of Luke Castellan."

Then something occurred to Annabeth.

"That reminds me— Beckendorf was in the midst of telling me what happened to Luke. He said that my future husband was killed in a sword duel. Who was the winning opponent?" Annabeth probed Percy.

Percy's face darkened. Or, it could have just been the black clouds that moved over the sun, making the world eerily resemble the Twilight Zone. The monsoon pinpricked exposed flesh like icy pinpricks, and the wind picked up a notch.

"It's not my place to say that," Percy muttered, stopping so suddenly that Annabeth ran into him.

"Sorry," she mumbled, then looked around for the cause of their abrupt sojourn.

They had stopped at a concaved part in a cliff face."It's not much, but it's shelter," Percy muttered, finally releasing her.

Annabeth stepped into the tiny alcove, and shivered, the full effect of the freezing rain and biting wind only now making itself known.

Percy, seeing her quivering, shrugged off his coat, and just as his right arm was slipping out of the coat, Annabeth snapped: "Stop undressing yourself for me! I don't want anything else of yours. And I most certainly don't want to be the cause of you catching your death."

"You're insufferable," Percy grumbled as he passed her to huddle up in the corner, as far from the raging storm as he could get. He held open his coat, and beckoned for Annabeth to come. "Here, if you won't let me take off my coat, at least accept some of my warmth. I dragged you out here— you're now my responsibility."

"I'm nobody's responsibility," Annabeth mumbled, her scowl fading as another set of violent shivers erupted from her shoulders down. Her body, without her mind's permission, walked forward and settled down in Percy's embrace.

Her teeth started chattering, and he wrapped the coat snugly around both of them, his hands resting on her stomach.

Maybe he isn't so bad, Annabeth thought as she felt Percy's strong heart beat through his clothes, pounding through her own body. He blew hot breath in her ear and held her tighter as the wind screamed its icy vengeance to the world.

There we go. How was it?

It's stupid, really, but I've been experiencing a severe case of writers' block, even though the entire plan is right in front of me.

Please tell me your opinions- though no flamers, thanks. First FanFiction, remember?

Thanks to all my fans who have been faithful in their reading so far, to all those who have either reviewed, favourite or followed and generally been good to me even if this story isn't my best work.

MashPotatoeSquishBanana :)