Chapter Text
Percy wouldn't say he was currently doing alright , given the whole stranded in Greek Hell thing, but he was doing considerably better after his stay in the swamp. Was it weird to say he missed drakon meat stew? That whole experience was certainly nicer than trailing after some forever miserable deity.
Akhlys led them to the ledge of a cliff, but when Percy leaned over it in curiosity he could only see the yawning chasm of the void. He grimaced as a chill ran through him and his eye twitched, stepping away from the edge and back towards Annabeth.
“This is the border where Night meets Chaos,” Akhlys offers, a beautiful array of violet and crimson flowers swaying in the gentle abyss breeze from where they sprouted out of the rocky plains around them. Annabeth cautiously poked at one nearby with her foot, a small puff of some kind of yellowish-pink gas fluttering out before dissipating in the air. Percy was no botanist but he was pretty sure normal flowers don't do that.
Annabeth dragged Percy away from the offending flower and leaned into his side, covering her mouth and nose with her rumpled t-shirt. “I can't tell exactly what they are without getting any closer, but those flowers are definitely poisonous. Try not to breathe them in.”
It was hard to focus on her words through the overpowering sweetness that followed the flowers blooming, Percy found himself unconsciously teetering forward to get more of the enticing smell. There was a glint of interest in Akhlys’ eyes, “Nightshade, Hemlock, Belladonna. Such a captivating scent for something so lethal, hm?”
“It's nothing impressive,” Annabeth says, the back of Percy’s shirt in an iron grip like she was scruffing a misbehaving cat. “None of the pamphlets mentioned there would be something underneath this.”
“No mortal has ever laid eyes upon this place, what is down there is beyond your feeble comprehensions.” The goddess sighed in melancholy, “Below us is the realm of the first primordial - my father, Chaos. Can you not feel him watching?”
A light breeze arose from beyond the cliff like an exhale, making Annabeth's skin prick up with goose bumps at the brief feeling of acknowledgement. If Percy hadn't been tense from that looming presence of something powerful that had followed him since Kelli, he certainly was in that moment. He intended to create more distance by taking another step back, but he soon realised his legs weren't quite responding to his commands like they should be.
Beginning to rapidly crawl its way up their bodies was a smoky haze, twirling up their legs to their hips to their torso and dragging a tingling numbness with it. It felt like when Annabeth sat cross legged for too long and lost feeling in her legs, torpid and obeying her brain's orders with noticeable delay, right before getting pins and needles.
With no time to properly adjust to the sensation, the fog had maneuvered its way over their heads. Annabeth's thoughts were sluggish and confused. Percy could feel his blood pumping through his body like molasses. There was a mildly uncomfortable pressure behind his eyes, like a headache without any pain.
Percy exhaled unevenly, staring down at his uncooperative limbs, “Annie..?”
The demigods glanced up and their gazes locked for only a heartbeat before they were tripping over themselves, kickstarting their bodies back into working with sheer force of will, to reach for the other.
Annabeth hadn't seen Percy so gaunt and lifeless since his first summer at Camp where he’d laid in the infirmary after Luke's betrayal. His tanned skin was worryingly pale and coated with a sickening mixture of scars, grime and monster blood, his hair hung limply framing his face. The grey strands seemed all the more prominent, taunting. Percy had never been particularly beefy, but now his ribs protruded through his ragged t-shirt, cheeks hollowed out and deep eyebags circling his turquoise eyes.
The young woman wasn't looking too good, herself. Her skin was wrinkled like old leather, blotchy with scars and burns from the Pit's acidic air. Her princess curls were straw-like where they cascaded down her shoulders, like her hair hadn’t been washed or brushed in years. Annabeth’s normally sharp, calculating silver eyes now seemed dull and lifeless, highlighted by the dark sunken sockets and permanent haunted expression. Percy felt ill. She looked like a corpse.
“Oh dear Hestia…” the daughter of Athena whispered, a weathered hand reaching up to rest gently on Percy’s defined cheekbone. He closed his eyes for a precious second and leaned into the touch, more trying to comfort himself than Annabeth.
“It’s okay. I’m okay,” he soothed and pulled away when Akhlys shattered their moment with a shrill huff.
“Ah, well, ‘okay’ is not quite the exact word I would use.” The goddess tilted a wrinkled hand, foxglove petals blooming in her palm before dissolving into ash, “I could make your own organs fail while your blood boils in your veins, I could take you apart from the inside as your skin peels off of your bones…”
Percy’s eye twitched again and he ignored the slowing pound of his heart in his ears. “I’m sure that’s cool and all to some folks, but it’s just not our kinda thing, y’know? We came for your Death Mist and now you’ve given it to us, we can go on our merry way.”
Annabeth shivered a little, hesitant, glancing at how Percy’s form seemed to be dissipating into smoke around the edges. “Monsters will be unable to see us, yes? Our journey won’t be interrupted by any giants or titans or anything?”
“Hm, I suppose.” Akhlys hummed, the ground by her feet suddenly blanketed by so many flowers that the entire floor was just a bouquet of deadly color. “That is, of course, if you survive long enough to see them at all.”
Annabeth felt her blood turn to ice as smoke poured from the flowers and her body weighed her down, “Gods above- Percy, it’s a trap, the Death Mist is killing us!”
“There’s that famous Athena wisdom.” The goddess sneered, nails extending into sharp talons before she lunged towards them. “Such a shame it won’t help you now.”
Percy instinctively struck out with Riptide in a move that should have cut straight through Akhlys’ torso if it didn’t pass through like mist. His eyes widened when he tripped over after overextending, unable to balance himself with the slowness of his bones, and almost falling directly onto the oncoming claws before Annabeth bodied the goddess. The women both toppled to the ground harshly, one of Annabeth’s arms was covering her face to avoid inhaling the toxic fumes spilling from the nearby plants and the other was clutching her new bone dagger in a white-knuckled grip above her opponent. Akhlys wasn’t so lucky, getting a face full of Nightshade, making her splutter and toss the demigod off while she hacked petals out her throat.
Weak to her own poisons. Huh. Percy noted to himself after he’d regained his bearings and tugged Annabeth back to her feet, capping Riptide and shoving it back into his pocket now he knew it was useless. He felt a little awkward having no weapons on him and he resigned himself to having to rely on the years he’d spent getting his shit rocked by Clarisse in hand-to-hand combat for the rest of this fight, determined to not drag Annabeth down.
Akhlys recovered quickly, slashing out again as Annabeth blocked with her dagger before jumping back to avoid the swipe from the other hand. Percy followed, shoving the attacking arm to the side before rounding on the goddess with a knee to the gut and a quick elbow jab to the temple and sending her stumbling. Annabeth appeared from behind her, aiming for Akhlys’ neck but was met with a backhand to the face and drove the dagger into her shoulder with both hands. Akhlys screeched in outrage and Percy took the opportunity to swing at her again, attempting a series of quick jabs but had severely underestimated how heavy the Death Mist was weighing him down. Embarrassingly, he had barely managed to land a few sloppy hits lacking in any real power before Akhlys reacted again.
He was still within reach, arms dragging down at his sides and Percy just had a split second to realise how terrible his current position was, not even getting the chance to think anything mildly coherent aside from expletives. Time seemed to slow even more and all Percy could do was watch as the goddess’ hand reached out and claws raked down his unguarded chest, tearing through his shirt and drawing blood from where it tore into his skin. He gasped, urging his legs to move him as far back as he could get as he reached up to press against the injury, hoping to staunch the trickling blood flow but ended up falling to one knee in the process.
“Percy!” Annabeth cried, rushing forwards to try and reach him but the poisonous fumes from the flowers was swirling like a wall, blocking her from Akhlys and Percy. He grit his teeth through the pain and twisted his face up in hopes to avoid inhaling any toxic gas but it just kept flowing out like the unstoppable current of a rushing river.
In a moment of either clarity or complete, utter insanity, a tentative connection formed in Percy’s brain. He remembered only a minute ago when Annabeth had pushed Akhlys into the flowers, how the goddess hadn’t been immune to it like he had expected. He remembered further back to all the times he'd controlled ponds and puddles and fountains.
If Poseidon was the god of the seas , why could Percy control all water?
Percy never had anyone to teach him how to use his powers, not like Reyna or Piper or Jason. What were his true limits? Did anyone know? He almost pushed the thought aside for how absurd it was.
…But he had directed the Phlegathon with mild pushback and that was a river of fire , and that's not even taking into account the Lethe and Cocytus. If rivers running through the depths of Tartarus (that certainly weren't connected to any oceans) were enough in Percy’s domain to bend to his will, why not a river of poison?
It was worth a shot, at least. He had no other options. There wasn’t enough time to think of anything better - if this didn’t work, Percy was going to die and leave Annabeth alone to fight her way to the Doors of Death.
He would never do that to her.
With a mental push, his powers latched onto the poison that had risen higher up to his chest and Percy gasped at the feeling of control. There was the familiar tugging sensation in his gut that came with hydrokinesis, but he could also feel something deep in his chest begin to form spiderweb cracks. Percy closed his eyes, breathed, and allowed his body to sag like he was giving in. A voice in his head that sounded vaguely like Chiron told him that this was manipulative and cruel, that he should just get it over with as soon as possible.
But a louder, darker, voice told him that this is exactly what Akhlys had done - act helpless and woeful before attacking. He was simply giving her a taste of her own venom.
Akhlys loomed over his hunched form, weeping. “Oh what a terrible death for the infamous Saviour of Olympus. How miserable.”
Percy forced out pathetic little sobs, urging miniscule amounts of poison to irritate his eyes and make the tears fall harder to add to the effect. They evaporated the instant they hit the ground, the little hisses seeming to draw back attention from that unknown presence, focusing firmly on what was going on. The demigod shuddered and even Akhlys paused for a beat when she noticed, seeming almost fearful before the expression was promptly washed away.
That momentary distraction was all Percy needed and he began to manipulate the poisonous cloud to lazily flow towards the goddess. It reached her and the second it made contact with her skin, Akhlys screeched in pain. It was burning her, Percy thought in a mix of horror and awe, she really wasn't immune.
Akhlys’ wrinkled skin began to sizzle with blisters that oozed black and gold pus as the poison climbed higher. She hunched in on herself as she screamed, tears rolling down her pathetic stained cheeks. Percy's grin was cruel when he seized control over the salty tears. He mentally increased their temperature enough that Akhlys’ old face was red with irritation.
From beyond the wall of poison, Annabeth's voice pleaded at him to stop. A gap formed, enough to barely see her face through the sparse visibility. Annabeth’s hands were raised helplessly by her chest like she wasn't quite sure what to do with them and her whole body was shocked into utter stillness. Her dull eyes were wide like saucers, unfocused until she saw Percy staring.
Annabeth looked terrified .
In the split second of eye contact they shared, dreams of the future flitted through Percy's mind. He was going to go home and catch up on all his missed work so he could graduate, and then he was going to go to New Rome University with Annabeth where they would be safe from expulsion and monsters disguising as pre-algebra teachers. They were going to share a dorm whether it was allowed or not, they were going to get their degrees and Annabeth would be history's greatest architect.
But that was the future. That was the future Gaea was trying to take away from him and Annabeth and the Seven and all the innocent children dragged into this war. No one would live that future if they didn't put the Earth primordial back to sleep, and they couldn't do that if they didn't get to the Doors of Death.
The goddess of misery was directly in the way of Annabeth and all the demigods’ paths to normalcy and peace.
That realization made Percy blind with fury. He was going to get them out of this damned nightmare using whatever means necessary, even if it meant murdering an ancient goddess. Percy's critical thinking took a backseat as he let his instincts take over.
He urged the poison to stop stalling and aimed for the throat, forcing it through Akhlys’ airways down into her lungs, blisters left in its wake. She choked, unable to make any noise except wheezing gasps and the gurgling of ichor. The golden blood gushed out of her mouth to dribble down the aged lines of her chin, to drip and wind around gnarled fingers and underneath twisted nails. Percy's lips twitched up in disgust.
Disgraceful .
With a tilt of the head and a minute flick of the wrist, Akhlys’ ichor began to heat, then bubble, and finally it started violently boiling where it poured out her wounds, evaporating as soon as the liquid hit open air. Percy reached further mentally until he could feel the not-quite-human godly circulatory system, gripping onto the arteries pumping blood to her shrivelled heart and making them boil as well.
Akhlys shrieked so loud that the ground shook before it cut off all at once, and Percy could feel something buried in his chest shatter . He collapsed, curling in on himself, hands tugging at his hair and torso, writhing in agony on the rocky ground as the blood in his veins turned to lava.
Abruptly, the pain completely vanished, Percy’s mind going blank as he blacked out.
For only a flash, Percy was suspended numb in darkness and void. He could feel nothing except the presence of another being looming above him, an intense sensation of being scrutinised, and a deep instinctual need to hide away. He decided he didn’t like that one bit.
The presence got closer like it was crouching down and Percy could do nothing as it hummed something akin to curiosity. “I am no stranger to children of the sea in my domain, yet so few of those more promising find their way down here.”
Its voice was indescribable, unimaginable, more of an impression than actual words, and it spoke in a language so ancient it tasted like decay. It chuckled, the sound reverberating across Percy’s entire brain and solidifying in his bones.
“You truly are no different from the monstrous siblings of yours that you annihilate, are you, Perseus Jackson?”
Annabeth felt ill.
As soon as she had made eye contact with Percy, it had seemed to reignite his bloodlust and she had to turn away, unable to watch any longer. Her arms were stiffly down by her side, fists clenched so tightly she was vaguely aware of her nails drawing blood.
All of a sudden, Akhlys weak choking that had barely made its way past the roaring of the poison increased to a deafening wail. As soon as it came, the sound dissipated and Annabeth’s body finally moved in order to collapse onto the ground, puking.
After firmly emptying all the contents of her stomach and then a minute of dry heaving for good measure, Annabeth wiped her mouth on the bottom of her shirt and braced herself. She was the daughter of Athena and Frederick Chase, Architect of Olympus, one of the prophesied Seven, and the only demigod to retrieve the Mark of Athena. She couldn’t fumble now, not with so many people relying on her.
Shakily picking herself up off the floor, Annabeth stumbled towards Percy. He was unconscious, curled up as tight as he could, on a bed of poisonous flowers. His chest rose and fell in stutters and Annabeth rushed to get him away from the plants, only stopping in her tracks when she saw his face.
Percy looked remarkably fine for someone sleeping in the Pit. Annabeth herself remembered how terrible her nightmares had been back in the protection of the Hermes shrine, she couldn’t imagine what they would be like in the open. However… Percy seemed almost content, there was a small furrow in his brow and his lips twitched but other than that he was perfectly calm. The flowers seem to be cushioning him as he rested, curling up around his exposed skin like a sick version of a blanket.
Annabeth’s teeth grinded and she took a deep breath, steeling herself while she lent down and carefully lifted Percy up, close to her chest with his face in her neck. Strangely, the plants pulled back, retreating back into the rocks like their blooming was in reverse. Annabeth shivered.
Then, she surveyed their surroundings, looking for the goddess. She tugged Percy closer to herself, wincing at the strain on her weak muscles but holding strong, determined to not leave him undefended again. Annabeth poked around the area cautiously but couldn’t find any sign of Akhlys save for the flowers blossoming near her own feet. She pressed the tip of her shoe against a small patch of foxglove and they twirled around her legs as if they were responding to the touch, pressure light enough that Annabeth was confident she wasn’t being trapped.
Percy hummed in satisfaction, cuddling deeper into her and Annabeth playfully rolled her eyes at the wet patch forming on her shirt. She was infinitely glad for this small moment of peace.
That was when she saw it. A few feet away, sitting innocently, was the blood stained dagger she had stabbed Akhlys with. It was laying in a dark ring of fizzing poison, decomposed flowers, and the horrifyingly golden twinkle of ichor.
She placed Percy back down and actually took the time to inspect his body. Annabeth felt stupid for not seeing it earlier, where there had once been claw marks on his chest there was now only a ripped shirt and unmarred skin. He had regained the color in his face and she fearfully noted that the Death Mist had completely dissipated.
The fiery glint in his emerald, not turquoise, eyes when they had looked at each other. The crying and begging and screaming from the goddess. Speaking of which - where was Akhlys? Why would she not take the opportunity to kill Percy while he was vulnerable?
Oh gods.
Annabeth tensed in stunned revelation, backing away just as Percy shot awake. She could do nothing but watch him groan and hold his head in his hands, she watched him shiver and pant the way he did after a nightmare, but she couldn’t summon up the courage to move any closer.
Eventually, Percy looked up at her and visually slumped in relief. “You’re okay,” he breathed, eyes raking over her form to check for any injuries past the Mist. The demigod (and Annabeth loathed to admit she wasn’t sure that term was quite right anymore) hauled himself to his feet with a grunt and took a wobbly step towards her.
She couldn’t help it, Annabeth flinched back. Something about Percy was deeply wrong and it was making her fight or flight instincts flare up. The look of hurt in Percy’s face wasn’t helping with her sudden guilt.
“Annabeth..?”
Unable to face his expression, she jerked her head towards her dagger. “Percy. What- What did you do?”
He frowned, turning his attention to where Annabeth had indicated and she could see the exact second realisation dawned on him. Percy’s breath caught in his throat and he looked back at her with pure terror in his eyes. He gulped and stared down at his hands, shrinking away.
“I- I don’t know! All I could think was that if I died you would be alone down here and she was in the way of us saving all the kids at Camp - both camps -, and I had to stop her. And then I thought, ‘hey if I can control a river of fire what else can I control?’ and then I blacked out and I just-”
“Percy!” Annabeth lunged forwards, grabbing his wrists to stop his fingernails digging further into his arms.
“Breathe. Calm down. It’s…” She swallowed unsteadily, “It’s going to be alright, okay? We’ll figure this out.”
Percy still looked frazzled, dozens of Nightshade plants sprouting around him, but he nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s gonna be fine.”
They stood there in silence for a while, letting Percy get his bearings back. He felt off-kilter and confused, like he was missing the last words he needed for a fill-in-the-blank. Discounting literally everything else, between what happened to the goddess and his weird dream, Percy just wasn’t feeling his best.
While he was regaining his composure, he noticed a few things. First of all, he was strangely rejuvenated like he had been doused in sea water, not experiencing the bone deep exhaustion he had for the past… however long they’d been down here. Then there was the fact that the air wasn’t hurting him anymore, he could still see rashes on Annabeth’s skin and her breaths came out rougher than they should, but to him it was only akin to the stifling heat of the Arizona desert.
Something about his entire body was off, too. There was a feeling of invincibility that was so similar to the curse of Achilles it made him sick. His veins were tingling with immense power. He didn’t want to think about that.
As if sensing his mood, Annabeth piped up. “Are you feeling better?”
“Better enough.” He admitted and Annabeth frowned like she wanted to push further but knew this wasn’t the time. Just another conversation they’ll be having later. She let go of his wrists and glanced around, wary, and he could see how on edge she was.
“Good. I’m sorry for what I’m about to ask, but do you think you’d be able to control the Death Mist?”
Percy blinked. He was certainly not expecting that. “What? Um, I’m not sure… Why?”
Annabeth gestured vaguely at his entire body as if that explained anything. “Your disguise has worn off, I’m not confident we’ll be able to make it to the Doors if you get spotted.”
Ah, that made more sense. He could see it now, the way his limbs acted in time with his thoughts, how his skin had lost that clammy complexion. Percy felt uneasy about having to exercise his newfound power so soon, but unfortunately he understood where Annabeth was coming from.
He sighed. “I can try.”
With a tremendous amount of concentration, Percy latched onto the Death Mist surrounding Annabeth and tried to mentally reverse engineer it until it began seeping out of his skin. His eyes were clenched shut but he was acutely aware of how it flowed over him, hiding his true appearance and power behind a veil. In fact, Percy was able to sense the poisonous flowers, the acidic air, the blood pumping through both of their bodies, how easy it would be to just take control and-
Maybe that was enough sensing for today.
He opened his eyes, waving off Annabeth’s look of concern. Percy meandered over to her fallen dagger and snatched it off the ground, confident in the knowledge that the spluttering poison could do nothing to him. He handed it back to its owner and she took it gratefully while he took a second to stare out at the void beyond the cliff. Something deep in his brain was sending off warning signs, trying to convince him there was another entity lurking in the darkness below.
Annabeth rested a hand gently on his shoulder, turning him away from the ledge. “We need to get out of here before someone else thinks we’re free game and decides to show up.”
Just as Percy went to nod his agreement, his instincts screamed at him to look over his shoulder . He grumbled, pressing the heel of his palm into his temple to stop the sudden headache.
“Oh, I am afraid it is too late for that.” Percy’s headache spiked. Five minutes of peace, was that too much to ask? The demigods spun to face the woman that had emerged from the depths of the void.
Percy blinked for a second when his eyeline was only at her abdomen and he craned his neck upwards to get a better look at her features. The woman's skin was a black so dark it hurt to focus on, but he could still clearly tell that she was divinely gorgeous. She wore a traditional Ancient Greek peplos that flowed around her, glinting with depictions of constellations. Out of her back sprouted a sprawling set of wings that beat gently, gusts of air blowing through Percy’s bangs. The woman was adorned in regal silver jewellery and her hair pinned back in a bun with a lunar themed headdress.
Beside her, towing a chariot, were a pair of ebony horses. They looked downright malicious in their own right, but their deadly sharp teeth definitely didn't help their friendliness levels.
The goddess’ eyes, as they bored down on the two of them, were bright little the moon and caused spots in Percy’s vision when he stared. There was no mistaking who this could be, and Percy scrambled to lower his head in a show of respect, Annabeth immediately following his lead. Antagonising Akhlys may have paid off, but even Percy Jackson (professional at enraging immortals) did not dare try the same with her.
“Lady Night.” He greeted the primordial, attempting to hide his shakiness. “May I ask why you're here?”
“I will not be wasting time with pleasantries.” She stated, tone clipped. “As a grieving mother, I demand to know why two mortals could possibly be wandering alone, shrouded in my deceased daughter’s Death Mist.”
They were so fucked. Percy kept his head bowed and voice respectful, “We are only trying to reach the Doors of Death so we can get back to our friends and family, my Lady. Akhlys honourably agreed to briefly lend us the Mist to allow us safe passage through the Pit.”
He thought he'd nailed that, personally, although the dread freezing his veins made it hard to celebrate his rare diplomacy. Percy didn't dare raise his head but he could feel Nyx’s burning stare, could hear the horses murmur something to the other. He stared at the hooves as they trot forwards, feeling the icy puffs of air coming from one horse’s nostrils when it sniffed at Percy.
The demigod squeezed his eyes shut, reaching out mentally for the Death Mist surrounding Annabeth and almost crumpling in relief when he sensed her ducking behind the nearby rocks. She was slowly but surely backing her way down the cliff, unnoticed due to the attention on Percy. That was good, he didn't want Annabeth to face punishment for his mistake, and hiding was her best option.
“Now, now, Shade and Shadow, what has got you both so worked up?” Nyx reprimanded in amusement, gently tugging on their reigns and pulling Percy out of his thoughts. Oh right, the horses that wanted to eat him. Percy shivered, though it wasn't from the cold. He thought he was done with man-eating mares but this was just the boy's luck.
The beast on the left let out a frustrated whine before retreating while the one on the right pushed himself further into Percy’s personal space. Those teeth were far too close for comfort. Finally, Nyx called them to heel which gave Percy a brief moment of respite.
It didn't last long as Nyx soon shrunk to a slightly more reasonable 10 feet tall, striding forward and grabbing Percy's chin with a clawed hand. She forced his face up until he was unable to focus on anything but those eerie, stunning eyes. The goddess tilted her head curiously.
“Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon.” Nyx said. “How at home you must feel down in this place that is infested with monsters. I do not imagine it to be so different from the abyss of the ocean.”
Percy shook his head as much as he could. “My mom is mortal. I'm not a god or a monster or anything like that, I don't belong here."
Nyx hummed patronisingly, the way adults do around small children. “Do you not?”
Percy couldn't suppress the flinch. “What are you talking about? I'm a demigod - of course I don't belong in the Pit!”
The primordial's smugness was palpable and she released the bruising grip on his chin to rest it on his shoulder. Despite the touch being lighter, Percy felt no less trapped. “You do not believe me so foolish as to not sense my daughter's essence within you. Gods, like monsters, do not truly die. The soul of a dying god will seek out another suitable soul that is compatible with their domains.”
He knew exactly what Nyx meant and cursed himself for not realising it sooner, the same thing happened to Grover back when Pan had died. The god had faded and transferred his soul onto Grover, crowning him the new Lord of the Wild.
Nyx’s gaze was calculating, like she was judging his very soul for its worth. Percy wasn't exactly confident about what she would find if she truly looked. After quite possibly the most tense 47 seconds of Percy’s life, the woman hummed in amused satisfaction while her nails dug into the teen's shoulder.
“Your mortality is wearing thin, young Perseus Jackson, and such an adorable little god killer you are.” Nyx purred. Percy would really, really like to just go home right now. He missed his mom. He missed Paul. Percy wanted to be anywhere but in the clutches of one of the universe’s earliest creations as she acted like he was some sort of child. “If you were not already claimed, perhaps I would take such a promising young deity for myself; raise you in my palace where you can grow into your abilities. Shade and Shadow would keep you company.”
Percy shook his head when she trailed off. “You must have made some kind of mistake, I don't belong to anyone, and I'm certainly not a god. My Lady, I swear I didn't want to kill your daughter, I wasn't-”
Nyx scoffed. “Nonsense. I will punish you for what you did to my daughter in time, but from my understanding, this was only a matter of time. Gods can never experience misery in the way a mortal can.” She clasped her hands together and swept her gaze across the area behind Percy. “Now, godling, where is your partner hiding?”
Percy held his tongue to stop himself from saying anything about how Nyx had brushed off the ‘claimed’ comment. “Do you promise not to hurt her?”
The goddess raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Percy gulped. “Gods do not make such foolish oaths, Perseus. I will act accordingly to the decisions of the demigod, she will be the one in control of her fate.”
That was probably the best he could ask for, Percy supposed. He turned to call out that Annabeth was alright to show herself, but she was already emerging from the rocks. Nyx beckoned her over and Annabeth was quick to obey, planting herself firmly at Percy's side. Annabeth squeezed Percy's hand, though Percy wasn't sure which one of them she was trying to comfort.
“Great Lady of the Night.” Annabeth bowed low and kept her eyes on the ground. “I thank you for your mercy.”
Nyx didn't look offended, which was a great start. “Rise, Annabeth Chase. I ask you both to enlighten me as to why you are travelling across the Pit.”
They did what they were told. The two of them took turns detailing the key points of the last few weeks leading up to the fall. Annabeth mostly took over in explaining their trip through Tartarus, with Percy occasionally chiming in with parts she missed out, until they had caught the goddess up to speed. Hearing it all out loud made the whole thing feel so utterly ridiculous.
When they finished, Nyx was running a hand down Shade's mane thoughtfully. “I suppose it would not hurt me to be of assistance.”
Annabeth perked up. “Apologies for the presumption, my Lady, but I was under the impression you wouldn't want us killing your sister.”
The primordial sighed, wings dropping slightly. “If I am being entirely honest, I have been rather lonely all these centuries. My children move on to greater things, leaving me all alone in my darkness. Perhaps it would be nice to have some company from my dear Gaea again.”
“We are forever grateful, Lady Night.” Said Percy.
Nyx frowned. “I shall take you to my mansion, navigating the halls will be the most efficient way to reach the Doors. One of my children will prepare a room for Perseus.”
Percy gaped. “What in Hades are you talking about?”
The goddess looked at him like he was a particularly slow toddler. “You are to stay with me, in the safety of my mansion, until the one who has claimed you will fetch you himself. He would not be thrilled if you were to run off and get yourself picked off by some stray monster.”
I can handle myself perfectly fine . He wanted to say. I don't belong to anyone. I am a child of the sea, and you cannot restrain me - Percy Jackson goes his own way.
But he didn't say anything, just looked at Annabeth. They stared at each other, and Percy wished that he could see her beautiful face and not this twisted mockery. Annabeth stared at him intensely, the lines of her face said ‘lead the way’.
Percy finally looked back at Nyx who was patiently giving them a moment. “Alright.” He muttered, defeated.
Nyx looked pleased with his answer, leading the pair to the chariot the horses were pulling. They settled in together, side by side and Annabeth leaned her head on Percy’s shoulder.
“As soon as we get to the mansion, run as fast as you can. I'll be right behind you, just don't look back, okay?” He murmured into her hair.
“Percy…”
“We're gonna make it out of here. We'll reunite with the others, then we'll win the war and live the next few years in peace.” He swore vehemently. “You just have to trust me on this.”
Annabeth pulled away slightly to get a good look at Percy. He was coated in grime and bruises littered his skin, but Percy didn't seem at all affected by the acidic air anymore. It was his eyes that kept drawing Annabeth's attention. That deep, swirling sea green she had spent years getting lost in had been replaced with a toxic hue identical to that of the Maeonian Drakon and it made grief hit her.
‘We'll see you there . ’ Percy had told Nico before they fell, but a nagging voice in her head told Annabeth that he wouldn't truly be the same person that made the promise. He wasn’t the same person that she had searched the world for.
Annabeth breathed out a shaky exhale. “I trust you, Seaweed Brain.”