AN: I really like this chapter. Mainly because I like writing action. In the TV show Annabeth, I felt, was more awkward, straightforward, and didn't have much social skills; so I sort of played on that a little in this chapter. I did this so that this new character I'm introducing can help with Annabeth's character development. Remember this story has no links to any of the books so in this world Annabeth quite literally doesn't care, or have complex feelings, about anyone else beyond those in her inner circle. This of course will be rectified.

Ch 2: Dance of the Dead Woodland Critters

Annabeth was irritated. For two days, she had tried to reach Percy through Iris messaging, but he hadn't responded even once. It wasn't like she had unlimited funds to spare. Her only income over the summer came from babysitting the bratty offspring of a giant in the city on Tuesdays and Thursdays. To make matters worse, they often paid her in human money, only giving her drachmas when their own stash was running low. Annabeth's patience and resources were both running thin, and Percy's silence was starting to get under her skin.

Annabeth had been genuinely happy for Percy when he told her his father had invited him to stay in his underwater kingdom for a few days. But now, over a week had passed, and she hadn't heard a single word from him. If she was honest, her irritation was just a cover for what she truly felt—anxiety. But she chose to tamp down her growing worry with logic. Assuming the worst wouldn't help anyone, and besides, the world beyond the Mist had been relatively peaceful lately—or so it seemed. Jumping to conclusions about Percy being in trouble would only stir unnecessary panic. Without evidence, she had to stay calm and rational.

But then Grover went missing.

When they found him, he was unconscious under his favorite napping tree, his face pale and his breathing shallow.. When he finally woke up, his eyes wide with confusion, he muttered something about a dream where Percy was a pirate. Annabeth's heart sank. This wasn't just a simple nightmare—Grover's dreams often had a prophetic edge.

Annabeth's logical mind had raced to find a reasonable explanation, but her gut told her something was wrong. The peaceful lull of the past few months now felt like a deceptive calm before a storm. She couldn't shake the feeling that Percy was in danger, and Grover's dream only added to her growing unease. Peace, it seemed, was ready to bid them adieu. Annabeth knew she had to act, but she would do so with the careful consideration and strategic thinking that defined her—because if Percy was indeed in trouble, they would need every ounce of her intellect and courage to bring him back safely. All she could do now was wait for Grover to remember the details of his vision and maybe then she could begin to make a plan.

"How are you feeling today?" Annabeth asked casually as she walked into the infirmary, her deep brown eyes scanning Grover for any signs of improvement. She had brought her satyr friend a plate of apples and tin can shavings. Grover, his curly brown hair slightly disheveled, cheerfully accepted the snack, immediately nibbling on one of the aluminum scraps.

"Better," he answered between bites. "Much better."

Annabeth grinned, placing her hands on her hips. "Good," she said, her smile broadening. There was a brief moment of silence where only the sound of Grover's eating could be heard before the young satyr looked up at his petite brown-skinned friend and sighed.

"I'm sorry, Annabeth. I still can't recall the dream."

Her face fell slightly, but she quickly shrugged it off. "It's not a big deal, Grover. You're still recovering. It hasn't even been a full 24 hours since we found you in the forest."

Grover blinked, guilt flashing in his eyes. "B-but it's not like I've been documenting the time or anything. I'm just—"

"You still haven't heard from Percy, have you?" he interrupted, sensing her deeper worry.

Annabeth took a seat on the end of the bed, her braids falling over her shoulders. "He was only supposed to be gone for a weekend. It's been a week and a day, Grover."

"I know." Grover scratched the top of his head before picking up a piece of apple. "I hate to say it, but I feel like something is up."

"Yeah," she nodded, her expression turning serious. "I think so too, but the only clue we have so far is your dream. And, well, we're obviously not getting too far with that," she remarked sarcastically, though not directed at Grover. She knew it wasn't his fault.

Grover watched Annabeth with slight suspicion. In the several years he had known her, he knew she wasn't the type to ever be idle in the midst of a troubling circumstance, even if the situation wasn't confirmed. "What are you thinking, Annabeth?" he wondered, expecting her to already have some kind of plan.

Annabeth shifted slightly over the covers towards her friend. She glanced quickly around the room, making sure they were alone before whispering, "Asteria."

"Asteria?" Grover's tan face scrunched up in confusion.

"Yes, Asteria."

"The Titan Goddess of falling stars and dreams?"

"Yes, Grover."

"What about her, Annabeth? Everyone knows the Titans are all dead—or, well, missing. And even if she was around, it's not like she'd respond to an official request. It's hard to get the attention of any god these days."

"You're right," she smirked. "But Asteria had a daughter, remember?"

Grover ran his fingers through his curly hair. "Yeah, you're right," he beamed when it finally hit him. "Hecate, the Goddess of Witchcraft."

"Exactly, and it just so happens that a daughter of Hecate was claimed last month."

Grover's eyes widened in surprise. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope, I'm not." Suddenly, Annabeth's face grew serious, a fine line forming over her forehead. "It seems as though fate is beckoning us. Don't you think?"

Grover placed his now empty plate of snacks on the nightstand. "Maybe," he said while rubbing his chin. "But there's no guarantee an offspring of Hecate can interpret dreams; even if they are from the direct line of a Titan Goddess who could. Even more, I can hardly remember any details of my dream, so unless this daughter of Hecate can look into my mind, there's no guarantee she's going to be of much help."

Annabeth nodded. She knew Grover was right, but they had to try. Otherwise, there was no way she would be able to convince Chiron to let her leave the campgrounds to go find Percy. "There's only one way to find out", she lifted an eyebrow, determination flickering in her eyes. She jumped to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Grover asked, his curiosity piqued.

"To find a witchy demigod," she said with a slight smirk.

Grover watched her leave, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. He could see the determination in her eyes, and he knew that her concern for Percy ran deeper than she let on. She hadn't admitted out loud that she loved Percy, but her passion to find him spoke volumes. As she walked away, Grover couldn't help but admire her resolve, hoping that their search for answers would lead them to their blonde friend—and perhaps, finally, to Annabeth realizing just how much she cared for him.

…

As Annabeth made her way through Camp Half-Blood, her mind wandered to thoughts of the son of Poseidon. In her sixteen years, she had never felt a connection as deep as the one she had with him. They mirrored each other in so many ways, both longing for a true connection without conditions or expectations. Their initial clash—Annabeth's belief that there was nothing more important than pleasing the gods, and his conviction that they needed more agency for themselves—had given way to mutual respect and understanding. He had shown her that it was okay to find worth outside of bringing glory to their parents' names. Over time, she had come to realize that Percy saw worth in her, and she saw worth in him.

Annabeth navigated the bustling campgrounds, the late August sun casting a golden glow over the fields and trees. Campers were scattered around, enjoying the last days of summer. The cabins stood in neat rows, each adorned with symbols of their respective gods. The Athena cabin, her home, was a constant reminder of her quest for knowledge and wisdom. But lately, her thoughts had been occupied with something—or rather, someone—else.

As she passed the strawberry fields, the sweet scent of ripe berries filling the air, her thoughts returned to the young demigod. They had been through so much together, from battling monsters to saving the world. With each adventure, they had grown closer, sacrificing themselves for each other time and again. It was during these moments that Annabeth realized just how much she needed Percy. He had become her anchor, the one person who truly understood her and valued her for who she was, not just as a famed daughter of Athena.

Despite her strong feelings, Annabeth was reluctant to label them. She was afraid of losing someone who saw worth in her unconditionally. Percy had shown her a new perspective on life, one where she didn't have to constantly prove herself to others. But the fear of losing that connection, that unconditional acceptance, kept her from fully admitting her feelings to herself. She knew her emotions ran deep, but the thought of naming them scared her.

As she approached the forest, where the daughter of Hecate was rumored to be practicing her magic, Annabeth's determination grew. The trees were lush and green, the canopy providing a cool respite from the summer heat. She needed to find her friend, not just because he was missing, but because he was a part of her. Without him, she felt incomplete.

The camp was alive with the sounds of nature and the laughter of campers. The Pegasus stables were bustling, with young demigods preparing for an evening ride. Annabeth paused for a moment, taking in the serene beauty of Camp Half-Blood. It was a place of safety and growth, a place where she had learned so much about herself. But it was also a place where her feelings for the son of Poseidon had blossomed, and she couldn't ignore them any longer.

She pressed on, her eyes scanning the terrain for any sign of the daughter of Hecate. Annabeth's heart pounded with a mix of fear and hope. If this demigod could help them understand Grover's dream, they might find a clue about Percy's whereabouts. And maybe, just maybe, she would find the courage to confront her feelings.

Annabeth's journey through the camp reflected her internal struggle. She was a pragmatic, logical thinker, but her heart yearned for a blonde headed seaweed brain. As she moved closer to the forest's edge, she resolved to find him and bring him back safely. Her deep emotions were a driving force, and she would do whatever it took to ensure Percy knew just how much he meant to her, even if she wasn't quite ready to call it love.

While not as deep in the forest as Grover's napping tree, the open meadow where Annabeth found the daughter of Hecate was still fairly close to the campgrounds' outer border. Without thinking twice, Annabeth pulled her New York Yankees cap from a pouch on her cargo pants and slipped it over her head. With the power of invisibility, she could observe the witchy demigod closely to see just what kind of magic she could perform.

Slowly, Annabeth crept toward the center of the clearing, careful to avoid any dead branches or patches of dirt that might crunch under her boots. As she drew nearer, she took in the physical features of the young demigod. She appeared to be around 17 or 18 years old, with a tall, thin frame. Her skin was exceptionally fair, making the pink of her cheeks and lips, as well as the freckles across her nose, stand out prominently. Her hair was a striking platinum blonde, with shimmering purple highlights that caught the light in a way that seemed almost magical. It cascaded down her back in loose waves, giving her an effortlessly bohemian yet edgy appearance.

The girl's face was a blend of delicacy and sharpness, with high cheekbones and a slender nose that gave her an ethereal look. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, were lined with a touch of dark eyeliner that added to her mystique. She wore a flowing, off-the-shoulder top that revealed her collarbones, adorned with several layered necklaces featuring an assortment of charms and crystals. Her jeans were ripped and worn, paired with combat boots that seemed at odds with the rest of her bohemian attire but somehow worked perfectly.

Annabeth recognized her from the Hermes cabin, and it was clear that she had been claimed by Hecate recently. The daughter of Athena could only assume that this girl's newfound heritage was destined to help her find Percy. There was an air of interesting style about her, but nothing that screamed otherworldly. She looked like a normal camper with a unique fashion sense.

As Annabeth continued to watch, she noticed the girl was collecting dandelions, carefully picking them and placing them into a small leather pouch she carried at her side. She moved with a casual grace, humming softly to herself, completely absorbed in her task.

Annabeth's heart raced as she continued to observe. The young demigod seemed so ordinary, yet Annabeth knew that she held the potential key to finding Percy. Every movement the girl made was deliberate but relaxed, a stark contrast to the urgency Annabeth felt.

Taking a deep breath, Annabeth prepared herself to approach. She stepped forward, her invisibility giving her the confidence she needed to get closer. She watched as the girl brushed a stray lock of platinum blonde hair from her face, her green eyes focused on the task at hand.

Annabeth knew she had to make contact soon. The fate of her friend depended on it. She took another cautious step forward, ready to reveal herself and seek the help she desperately needed.

"Hi, Annabeth," the girl suddenly spoke, plucking one final flower from the dirt. She then turned—or was it a pirouette?—towards her stalker, who didn't appear to be physically there.

Annabeth gasped but quickly covered her mouth. Was her hat not working? She touched the top of her head. It wasn't missing; so how could this girl see her?

"I know you're there."

Annabeth hesitated to say anything. She stared at the tall blonde who seemed to be staring right back at her. "How?" she finally asked. "How did you notice me?"

"My friend Casper told me. Well, his name isn't actually Casper. I just call him that because he hates it."

"Casper?"

"It's like some 90's classic film or whatever."

Annabeth didn't respond, her mind racing.

"He's a ghost. You know, like Casper the friendly ghost? We ran into each other about two years ago in an abandoned house out in Philly. He's been trying to get me to help him pass over ever since."

Annabeth remained silent, processing this unexpected information.

"Al...righty then," the older girl nodded her head awkwardly. "So, um, what do you want?" She scoffed, adding, "And could you please stop with the invisibility act? I know what you look like."

Annabeth rolled her eyes but complied, taking off her hat and revealing herself to be just a few inches from the taller girl.

"What the hell!" The older demigod jumped back, her eyes wide. "I didn't realize you were standing right there. Have you ever heard of personal space?"

Annabeth ignored the dramatics—she got enough of it from Percy and Grover—and went straight to the point. "Look, I need your help."

"Do you now?" The fair-haired girl responded sarcastically. "I would have never guessed."

Annabeth wasn't too fond of the girl's response, feeling as if there was something loaded behind it. "What do you mean?"

"Girl, you quite literally don't talk to anyone on this campground unless you're giving orders or in need of something."

Annabeth folded her arms across her chest, her expression tightening. The daughter of Hecate's remarks were absolutely true; she couldn't even deny it. Nevertheless, she still felt offended. She had her reasons for being so closed off from the majority of the campers at Camp Half-Blood, but she wasn't obligated to explain herself or give a reason why.

Annabeth's silence caused the older girl to narrow her eyes, a look of irritation crossing her face. "Nope. Sorry, I will not be helping Queen Annabeth today," she said with a snarky cadence. She then turned away, squatting back down in front of the dandelions she had been picking.

Annabeth's awkwardness had clearly rubbed the girl the wrong way. The blonde had initially seemed intrigued and open to her presence, but Annabeth's cold demeanor had shut that down quickly. As the daughter of Hecate resumed her foraging, Annabeth stood there, feeling a mix of frustration and regret. She needed to find a way to connect, to break through her own barriers and reach out sincerely. The fate of Percy—and her heart—depended on it.

"I challenge you to a duel," she suddenly declared.

Annabeth could see the muscles in the older girl's neck constrict and tighten. Her wide green eyes and her mouth dropped open. Still squatting, she turned her head to look at the daughter of Athena in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me!" she snapped.

"I wish, but I'm kind of out of options at this point."

"And if I decline?" She asked, crossing her arms and turning away once more.

"Well, I'm not sure what Hecate is like, but if she's like all the other gods, I doubt she'd appreciate you missing out on an opportunity to earn glory, even if it's discreet."

"And underhanded," the blonde snorted.

Annabeth shrugged.

"What are the rules?" the older girl asked as she slowly rose to her feet, her back still facing her new adversary.

Suddenly, Annabeth felt a sinister chill go down her spine, and the hairs on her arms stood up on end. "What are you doing?" she asked, suddenly alarmed.

The platinum-haired demigod turned her head. Her eyes, which had been the prettiest green, were now completely black. The ground by her feet began to move and fester, and with absolute disgust, Annabeth watched as what appeared to be corpses of woodland critters burst from the ground.

"Rules?" the daughter of Hecate asked again, her voice now several tones deeper.

Annabeth, not wasting another second, pulled out her knife. "First blood," she answered and swung her blade down to stab a zombie-like fox creature in the head. When she pulled the blade out of the already dead animal's skull, the older demigod had floated several meters back toward the center of the meadow. With outstretched hands, she began siphoning what Annabeth could only describe as energy from the earth. Annabeth could feel currents of power flowing under her feet. She had to act now, or she would be at a huge disadvantage.

With a thrust of her right leg, she took off into a full sprint. She hadn't thought much about her next move, but from the few seconds the duel had begun, she deduced that the daughter of Hecate was a necromancer, or at least necromancy was one of her powers. This meant Annabeth would likely have to fight off something unalive before getting to the girl herself. Another thing she noticed was that the older demigod had used the distraction of the zombie fox to create distance between them, which made Annabeth assume the girl wasn't good at hand-to-hand combat. In other words, the key to Annabeth's success was getting up close and personal, hence why her second move consisted of becoming a track star. She had to reach the witchy half-blood and attack before she could dispatch any more zombie critters.

Not even a second after Annabeth surmised what she needed to do to win the duel, did the older girl call forth a small brigade of dead birds and large dead bugs. They gathered in a swarm, creating a small black cloud in the sky before diving toward Annabeth, who had come within feet of her opponent.

She deftly dodged the first string of attacks, swinging her knife to slice off the beak of a brown hawk. It fell to the ground and dissipated back into dust. Her next move was a quick side step to the left where she flipped and kicked a praying mantis, the size of a fist, into the air. It exploded like a tiny bottle rocket, its dusty remains raining back down into the grass.

Annabeth's braids, dark and glossy, whipped around her face, and her brown skin glistened with sweat under the summer sun. She moved with a warrior's grace, her intellect guiding her every action. She knew she had to end this quickly. Her mind calculated the distance, the angles, and the timing.

The daughter of Hecate's quiet, menacing anger was palpable. The blonde demigod floated back further, her eyes still black, a sinister smile curling on her lips. The ground beneath her feet festered with more undead creatures clawing their way to the surface. Annabeth could feel the pressure mounting, but she didn't let it faze her.

With each step, Annabeth analyzed her opponent's weaknesses. The necromancer's strength lay in summoning and controlling the dead, but her vulnerability was clear—she needed distance. Annabeth's muscles coiled, ready to spring. She dodged another wave of undead birds and bugs, her knife flashing in the sunlight as she took them down one by one.

A crow dived at her, but Annabeth was ready. She ducked, spun, and slashed upward, cutting through its decaying body. Dust exploded around her, but she kept moving, her eyes locked on her target. She was getting closer, but she needed to be smart. The daughter of Hecate's ability to summon more creatures meant Annabeth had to be precise and decisive.

She calculated the next move, her sharp mind racing through possibilities. She had to get the necromancer within striking range. Annabeth feinted left, then darted right, closing the gap between them. She could see the girl's eyes widen in realization, the sinister confidence wavering.

Annabeth's heart pounded as she moved in, her brown skin gleaming with determination. She was beautiful and fierce, a true daughter of Athena. She dodged another attack, her movements a blend of agility and strength. The distance was closing, and she could feel the endgame approaching.

With a final burst of speed, Annabeth lunged forward. She calculated her throw, every angle and distance meticulously measured in her mind. She knew where she needed to stand, the perfect spot to end this duel. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her knife, and she threw it with precision.

The blade flew through the air, slicing through the chaos of undead creatures. It found its mark, grazing the shoulder of the daughter of Hecate, drawing first blood. The older girl's eyes returned to their natural green, the undead creatures dissipating into dust around them. Annabeth stood there, her chest heaving, victorious and unwavering. She had done it, using her intellect and warrior spirit to triumph.

"What an absolute waste of time," the daughter of Hecate sighed, her anger seeming to fizzle away with the release of her necromantic spell. She glanced at Annabeth, a grudging respect in her eyes. "I'm not gonna lie, though, that was kind of epic." She grinned and emptied her small pouch of dandelions, now reduced to ashes.

Annabeth, with a confident smirk of her own, nodded in agreement. "You're not half bad," she remarked, brushing a stray braid from her face.

"I guess that's legit if it's coming from you," the taller girl replied, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"So, are you gonna help me or not?" Annabeth asked, her tone more friendly now.

"Well, I did lose the duel," the older girl conceded, closing her small satchel and walking over to the petite brown girl. "Well then, let's hear it."

Annabeth took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. "First, what's your name?"

The daughter of Hecate paused for a moment before replying, "Dasha. Dasha Ivanova."

"Dasha Ivanova," Annabeth repeated, testing the name on her tongue. "It suits you."

Dasha gave a small nod of acknowledgment. "Thanks. Now, what's this all about?"

"What do you know about dreams?" Annabeth asked, her voice steady but urgent.