Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was the perfect day.

The sky was of the softest blues, spotted with the fluffiest white clouds. The rays shining down from the Sun Chariot warming the landscapes and brightening everything it touched with a cheery golden glow. The temperature was neither too hot or too cold, with a generous breeze from Aeolus that gently tickled the skin and kept the heat of the day from getting too overbearing. The laughter of the Aurai dancing in the air mingled with the exuberance of the mortals below them, their slipstreams rustling the leaves and wafting the cacophony of smells from the newly bloomed flowers through the cobblestone streets of New Rome University.

It was as if the gods themselves had decided to bless the college’s inhabitants with the most picturesque first day of spring break they could conjure.

And Annabeth hated every bit of it.

The weather had no right to be as beautiful and radiant as it did today. Not after everything that just happened.

Resisting the urge to kick at the loose stones, Annabeth made her way toward the boy’s dormitory. Her knuckles gripped white on the strap of her backpack as she mentally repeated to herself that she was not going to stomp her way across the entire campus, no matter how much she was justified in doing so. She had to keep some decorum after all.

Though if the wary glances from her fellow classmen less than subtly keeping their distance and providing her with an obviously wide berth as she passed them on the road was any indication, then clearly she wasn’t doing as well as she thought at keeping the furious indignation out of her expression.

Good, a dark part of her relished.

They should be wary of her.

Be intimidated by her.

Respect her.

She wasn’t just some random Legion veteran or Legacy strolling her way through the NRU campus. She was Annabeth Chase. Architect of Olympus. One of the seven demigods of the Second Great Prophecy. Finder of the Athena Parthenos. Without her the Titans and the Giants would have been victorious in their coup against the gods.

Now if only her stupid professors could get with the program then everything truly would be golden.

With the dormitory finally in sight Annabeth increased her stride, not even bothering to check in at the front desk as she made her way inside.

Not that she really needed to anyway. All the resident assistants knew who she was at this point.

Without much conscious thought, her feet already started turning to the direction she needed to go, having already memorized the exact path and steps to Percy’s dorm room ages ago.

Making her way past the elevator (she wasn’t avoiding it, she wasn’t), Annabeth pushed the entrance to the stairwell open with single-minded purpose, starting her trek up the six flights of the hexagonal staircase to the fourth floor where Percy was waiting for her.

The echoes of her footfalls were her only accompaniment as she made her way up the gaudy Legion purple stairs. The only color in the entire blasted stairwell aside from the gold painted steel handrails. Both of which clashed with the sterile off-white paint all buildings seemed to use on their walls.

While she could appreciate the design of the staircase, the space overall was uninspired and underutilized, leaving the residents and visitors feeling cramped and claustrophobic as they trudged their way up and down the stairwell. Of course if they would just knock down the one side wall and replace it with windows like she continually suggested they do, then the entire space would open up, the natural light illuminating the staircase in a way that the artificial overhead lights could never achieve.

But like every other person in authority at Camp Jupiter, aside from Hazel and Frank of course, nobody ever seemed to take her seriously.

Hence her current problem.

Ignoring the increase in the volume of the echoes as she made her way up the final flight of stairs, Annabeth couldn’t help but grit her teeth in frustration.

She just had to get through today. She could revamp her plan of attack tomorrow once she got back to her dorm at UC Berkeley.

Was that a bit of an inconvenience for her? Yes. But she had let herself cave to Percy’s baby seal eyes and promised that he could take her out to lunch and dinner tonight as a way to make it up to him for how she’d been spending more of her time at UCB recently.

Percy of course was understanding as always.

For as much as a Seaweed Brain that he was, even he had started noticing her preference for UCB over NRU. Naturally, Percy being Percy, he had wanted to help fix all her problems, but one raised eyebrow and a stern look had smoothly put him back in his place.

She loved Percy. She did. But there were just some things that it wasn’t on him to deal with. And the politics of New Rome was one of them. The last thing she needed was for him to inadvertently make things even more difficult for her than they already were.

Of course Percy making her life more difficult and stressful because of his good intentions was nothing new. But she was already stressed as it was and she didn’t need him adding to it more than he usually did.

Taking the last step, Annabeth pivoted. The sudden silence around her was almost eerie as she took a moment to close her eyes and inhale deeply, filling her lungs to the absolute brink. Holding it for a count of ten, she exhaled as she opened the fourth floor stairwell door into the boy’s dormitory.

Not for the first time Annabeth appreciated New Rome’s adherence to a more military-like structure and expectations. Whereas the dorms in UCB were lovingly worn-in with the tell-tale background noise of music blasting and the occasional faint scent of weed and rotten gym shorts floating through the air, the dorms at New Rome University were near spotless. Flawlessly kept and tidied each day by the monster cleaning staff on site. Of course the cleanliness of the individual dorm rooms were left up to its inhabitants, but routine room checks ensured that nothing suspicious would be left to grow and fester by the residents.

The soundproof walls were an added bonus.

Quickly making her way down the halls, Annabeth soon found herself at her destination.

Room 411.

Taking out her celestial bronze knife, Annabeth slid the blade along the edge of the door mechanism, the sharpness of the blade easily slicing through the lock. A smirk gracing her lips for the first time that day as she sheathed her knife back into her boot and turned the handle downward to pull open the door. A shock of anticipation and eagerness zipped down her spine. The thought of seeing Percy slowly plastering over her anger and annoyance.

However instead of Percy’s annoyingly cute face to greet her, she was met with yet another headache.

“Seriously?,” Caleb growled out. His usual handsome model-like features marred by the scowl on his face. “You broke the lock again?!”

Caleb Darling. Twenty-year-old demigod son of Anteros. Former Centurion of the Fourth Cohort. Completed his ten years of service after the conclusion of the Great Imperial War.

And the current bane of her existence.

Rolling her eyes at the older boy’s attempts to chastise her, Annabeth squared her shoulders, letting the door shut behind her and moving to side-step the stuck-up former Legionnaire without so much as a backward glance.

Or at least she attempted to anyway.

Not one to be deterred so easily, the son of the love god swiftly shifted his position to block her from entering further into the room, crossing his tanned muscular arms over his chest in a move that Annabeth supposed was meant to be intimidating, though it hardly registered to her.

The intention however was clear. He was not going to just let her dismiss him like some annoying gnat (even if the description was an apt one).

“That's the sixth time this month” Caleb snapped at her. His prismatic eyes a whirlpool of deep blues, purples, black, and just the barest hint of red. "Julian is going to have our hides for this! Why can't you just knock like a normal person?!”

And there he goes again, Annabeth sneered.

He was always harping on her for something.

If it wasn’t her “disregard for his and Percy’s privacy” or her “unnecessary casual vandalism and rule-breaking” it was him trying to constantly stick his nose into her and Percy’s relationship.

She had tolerated his advice with grit teeth and false smiles at first, figuring it was just an impulsive innate instinct as the child of a love deity. She’s seen how the children of Aphrodite can get when scorned and she had no intention of getting herself cursed thank you very much. That was Percy's MO after all.

But after the first month his advice started feeling more like critiques and judgement.

Specifically directed at her. Pointed. Intentional. Not unlike an archer taking aim at a target.

No matter what she did, it seemed like Annabeth Chase could do nothing right in the eyes of Caleb Darling.

He disliked her. And she disliked him. It was the only thing the two of them could mutually agree upon.

Well. That, and their care for-

“Percy!” Caleb called, his voice echoing through the room. Though his irate gaze never left hers.

Not five seconds later Percy exited the bathroom in a small cloud of steam. His hair still tousled wildly from the shower and a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips.

And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Annabeth took the moment to appreciate how Percy had filled back out after his time there had cost him a chunk of his bodyweight and musculature. His time on the AHS swim team really had done his physique wonders.

“What’s u-Annabeth?”

She watched as Percy’s expression immediately transformed into one of delight at the sight of her.

Annabeth resisted the petty urge to give Darling a smug smile at the single-focused puppy dog joy that was now centered smack on her and not him.

“You’re early! How did-”

“Tell your girlfriend that she needs to stop breaking our locks! Julian reamed us out the last time and told us if it happened again there’d be consequences,” Caleb exclaimed. His eyes morphing into a dark mass of swirling blacks and navy with his anger as he zeroed in on her stormy gray. “A fact I know I told you the last time you were here!”

Annabeth bristled. Her hackles rose immediately at the accusation. Baring her teeth at the haughty demigod, she opened her mouth to show him the definition of reaming.

Likely sensing the impending danger, Percy immediately sprinted the short distance across the room, placing himself between the two of them.

“Easy Cay. I told you, Annabeth doesn't mean anything by it. She just prefers to challenge herself rather than take the easy route,” Percy attempted to reassure him.

Annabeth couldn’t help but scowl when Percy placed a hand on Darling’s shoulder. Not pushing him away, but not welcoming him in further either.

And Darling let him.

No.

Not just let him.

The bastard had the audacity to lean into it. Into Percy’s space. Close enough where the two of them were just merely an inch away from breathing each other's air.

The flimsy plaster covering over her fury was immediately torn down.

Annabeth Chase may hate Caleb Darling, but Percy Jackson did not.

And Annabeth loathed how casually physical the two of them were.

Oh, she had nothing to worry about with Percy of course. His fatal flaw was loyalty after all.

Her stupid, kind, loyal, empathetic, pretty, and oblivious Seaweed Brain who drew people to him like Icarus to the Sun.

No. It was literally everyone else who always needed to learn that Perseus Alexios Jackson was hers and hers alone unless she deemed fit to share him.

Stupid gods and their stupid vanity. Pushing all their best genes onto their children without regard to how it may cause their children’s partners grief.

“Except it's not a challenge!” Caleb retorted. Inadvertently bringing her back to the conversation at hand. “It's just inconveniencing everyone and amusing her!”

Annabeth scoffed, For being the child of a love god he really doesn’t understand relationships does he?

“A girl's gotta keep her boyfriend on his toes,” Annabeth smoothly exclaimed. Taking her hands from her hips and crossing them over her chest in an intentional parody of Darling’s own stance.

“That doesn't even make any sense!” Caleb declared. The exasperation in his tone clear as he threw his arms up in frustration. “Not unless you're admitting that you get a kick out of stressing Percy out or getting him in trouble”

This time Annabeth made no attempt to conceal the small laugh as she huffed out a disbelieving breath before jabbing her thumb into Percy’s ribs. “I'm the one keeping Seaweed Brain here out of trouble”.

Percy winced slightly at the force of her jab, but the amused smile never left his face as he faced Darling’s now pitch black eyes, bared teeth, and white knuckles.

“Annabeth's right Cay. She's saved my bacon more times than I can count,” Percy assured him.

“Percy’s right,” Annabeth said. Not able to resist the urge to tease her boyfriend a bit. “I've definitely saved him far more than five times”

“Ye-Hey!” Percy exclaimed, whipping his head around to her in mock hurt. His bottom lip extended in a pout.

Annabeth merely raised an amused eyebrow at him.

He really was unfairly cute when he was being a Seaweed Brain.

“Was the insult really necessary?” Caleb demanded. His tone darker than the abyss of his eyes that were trying to swallow her in.

“Cay, Annabeth was just teasing-”

“Her teasing leaves much to be desired,” Caleb cut off. Clearly finished with being civil. “Besides, you might attract trouble, but she incites it”

“Excuse me?” Annabeth demanded.

All pretense of good-natured teasing gone, Annabeth immediately shoved Percy out of her way, paying no mind to the sound of him stumbling slightly into the wall. He was fine. And at the moment nothing else mattered. Not when her target was right in front of her.

“You heard me Chase,” Caleb challenged right back. Dropping his arms to his sides as she stepped right up to him. Annabeth lifted her chin so that they were now nose to nose. “You think you’re hot shit. That you’re above everyone else. Including the gods. I hear how you talk. And so does everyone else. It’s hardly a wonder why you don’t have any friends here”

Annabeth snarled, refusing to let Darling see the mortification burning her face. Letting it instead fan the flames of her anger instead. Her knuckles clenching white as she shifted her stance, like a viper slowly coiling itself back, readying to strike.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Caleb exclaimed. Not sounding sorry at all. “Did you think it was everyone else that was the problem?”

They are, Annabeth wanted to scream back.

She didn’t. She wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction.

“What am I saying? Of course you do,” Caleb scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. His unfairly pristine chestnut curls swaying against his forehead. “Hubris right? That’s your fatal flaw?”

Count to ten, Annabeth reminded herself. Don’t punch him. Don't stoop to being juvenile like him. He's not worth a mark on your record.

“Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, if the whole world smells like shit then check under your shoe?” Caleb sneered. His voice haughty as his eyebrow rose up mockingly at her.

Screw the penalties, Annabeth thought, readying her knee to nail Darling square where the sun doesn’t shine.

“That’s enough!” Percy declared as he shoved the two of them apart. The finality in his tone left no room for contestation.

“I understand that you’re mad about the lock, but taking cheap shots is uncalled for,” Percy exclaimed, his jaw tight. Annabeth could tell he was clenching his teeth together. Barely keeping his anger reigned in if the intensity of his eyes were any indication (They weren't glowing. Percy's eyes don't glow).

“And you hold her on too high of a pedestal,” Caleb snapped back, not unkindly.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Percy deadpanned. Looking for the world like Darling was the crazy one. “Of course I think the world of her”

Annabeth’s heart swooped at the casual omission. Easing her fury back down into a simmer. Gods, she never got tired of Percy’s endless praise. How he would unfailingly always defend her. It was a heady feeling to have all of someone like she had all of Percy. Like a drug she couldn’t live without. (She already had. The withdrawals weren’t something she was ever going to allow to happen again).

“She needs to be held accountable for her actions,” Caleb retorted. “She should be the one to have to deal with the consequences of her actively choosing to repeatedly disregard us and the university’s property and not us!”

“I’ll handle the matter of the locks with your RA,” Annabeth scoffed, waving her hand dismissively in the air.

She was sure it would be a simple matter to get them to understand the situation. And if it got them off Percy’s case then that would just mean one less thing that Darling had to use as ammo in whatever vendetta he apparently had against her.

“See, Cay? Annabeth's got it handled,” Percy said, exhaling a sigh of relief. His tone mirroring her own confidence.

“Thrilling,” Caleb stated blandly. Some of the deeper blues had returned to his irises, though his teeth and fists were still clenched tightly together.

Without another word Darling had side-stepped Percy, clipping her shoulder out of spite as he stalked past her and opened the door to the dorm.

“Where are you going?” Percy inquired, sounding concerned.

Annabeth rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s obliviousness, Clueless as usual Seaweed Brain. Read the room.

“For a walk,” Caleb stated shortly. “I need to clear my head from…all of this”

Annabeth made sure to keep her eyes on the door until it settled seamlessly back into place.

“Hey. I'm sorry about Cay. He's just worried that-”

“I'm not here to talk about your roommate,” Annabeth pointedly cut off, dropping her backpack amongst the disorganized clothes laying atop Percy's bed.

With a disapproving frown she kicked a lone sneaker out of her path. Her anger at well…everything unintentionally causing her to use more force than she intended.

The shoe sailed over to Darling’s side of the room. Landing with a resounding thud against the wall and sliding down onto the other boy’s pristine fluffy white pillow.

A curl of satisfaction rippled through her. Though she refused to be so childish as to let it show on her face.

“Right,” Percy huffed out, the sarcasm in his tone clear as he removed the shoe from his roommate’s bed.

Annabeth merely gave him a pointed glare, daring him to say anything.

“So how did it go with your professors?” Percy inquired instead, plopping down in the chair in front of his desk.

Annabeth sneered.

Figures, she thought. Leave it to her selectively perceptive seaweed-brained boyfriend to choose now to use his brain and tactlessly cut right to the heart of her fury.

It’s moments like this she swears Percy just acts oblivious and stupid just to annoy her.

“Apparently I'm not doing bad enough to warrant “special treatment” and be allowed extra credit when it isn't being offered to anyone else” Annabeth spat out. Throwing her arms up in the air in exasperation. “Which is stupid! If a student is being proactive about their education and volunteering to do more work you'd think they'd appreciate the effort, but nooOooOo”

Decidedly beyond caring whether the clothes were dirty or clean, Annabeth fell back against Percy’s bed. The standard comforter and collections of fabrics being the first to truly embrace her all day.

To her relief, the scent of ocean air and fresh linen wafted up her nostrils. Like a pavlovian-trained dog, the tension in her muscles relaxed slightly as Percy's overwhelming ocean scent surrounded her. For just a moment, if she closed her eyes, she could pretend that she was just relaxing at the beach. That everything was going right as she planned.

“Whatever. I'll wear them down,” Annabeth declared. Eyes stubbornly still closed as she took a few more deep inhales through her nose. “I just need to make sure to seal all the cracks in my argument. That way they don’t have any room to refute anything this time around”

Percy’s subsequent laugh felt like sandpaper on her ears. Disrupting her serenity and bringing her pack to the harshness of reality.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said. The likely well-meaning but misplaced good-natured humor in his tone only caused her anger to start bubbling back up again. “In the meantime, just relax. It is spring break after all”.

“Not until my grades are up to par with what is expected of a child of Athena” Annabeth stated firmly. Her jaw clenched tight as she glowered at the ceiling like it was the one to offend her. (Though to be fair the layer of eggshell paint was pretty horrid. Note to self: convince Percy to let her change it to a light gray).

“You're being too hard on herself,” Percy exclaimed. “You're enrolled in two different colleges at once. You have double the workload everyone else does and yet your lowest grade is a B-minus. Cut yourself a little slack”

“That's no excuse” Annabeth bit out sharply. Percy’s continued blasé attitude only incensing her further and further.

“Then maybe you should try eating some more blue food like me?” Percy teased, his sea-green eyes glittering with mirth.

His words, so clearly a joke, snapped the final frays of her patience. Her anger now boiling over once again as she shot up from the bed.

“This isn't a joke, Seaweed Brain!” Annabeth growled. “Gods, how are my grades worse than yours when you clearly aren't taking your education and future seriously like me!?”

“Hey!” Percy exclaimed. Annabeth ignored the shock and hurt on his face as he stood up to meet her. Forcing her to have to look up for the third time today.

“Look, I'm sorry for joking around. I know you're stressed out right now,” Percy expressed. His voice was as tight as his gaze as he met her glower. “But you're wrong in thinking that I don't care about my education. For once I actually have all the tools and accommodations I need to succeed, and the teachers willing to be patient enough to work with me rather against me”

Annabeth resisted the urge to snap back with a sarcastic, Good for you.

“You’re also forgetting a few important things,” Percy declared.

“Oh yeah?” Annabeth challenged. The derision in her voice clear as she raised an eyebrow at his audacity. “Then by all means. Grace me with your wisdom, Seaweed Brain”

Percy clenched his teeth. Not rising to her bait. Though his eyes did darken. His expression tightening further as his eyes narrowed at her challenge. Not backing down like most sane people would.

“Most of our classes are different,” Percy proclaimed. Meeting her glare without fear. “Sure we might both be taking Roman Finance 101, but that's it when it comes to our shared gen-ed classes this semester. You're in a higher level class for everything else. Not to mention, unlike you, I'm not overworking myself by dual-enrolling”

With an exasperated exhale, Percy closed his eyes as stepped backwards, putting some distance between them as he likely counted to ten.

As if he had any right to act like she was the one who’d provoked him.

“Look, Annabeth, you might be the most brilliant person I know, but if all the coursework is stressing you out so much, then maybe you need to take a step back from the number of classes you're doing at once” Percy stated, sounding exhausted.

“So it's my fault then?,” Annabeth demanded. Closing the distance between them once again so that she was right back in Percy’s face. “I'm the one not acting wisely? Is that what you're trying to say, Seaweed Brain?”

Percy placed his hands up between them in a placating gesture. His eyes annoyingly gentle as his voice went soft. As if he were talking to some feral animal. “I feel like you have it in your mind that you have something to prove when you don't. Not to your professors. Not to New Rome. Heck not even to yourself”.

Percy placed his hands in hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze before bringing them to his lips for a kiss.

Annabeth’s traitorous heart did backflips at the gesture.

“You're Annabeth Chase. The smartest and the strongest demigod of our generation bar none. You don't have to prove anything to anyone” Percy exclaimed, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Then again, maybe it was.

Exhaling a frustrated breath, Annabeth glared at him. Though even she could tell the heat in it was gone.

“Apparently someone paid more attention than I thought during our literature essay tutoring sessions” Annabeth barbed.

Though from his smug smile she supposed Percy could tell he’d won this round. Though she’d never admit it out loud.

Maybe. Just maybe, Percy had a few good points.

As loath as she was to agree.

Perhaps she was being too hard on herself.

Of course it didn’t seem to help that New Rome just seemed to bring out the worst in her.

“You're…You're right,” Annabeth ground out.

Rolling her eyes, she elbowed Percy a little harder than usual when his smug smile got a mischievous edge to it. Effectively cutting off whatever smart-ass comment he was about to make.

“Don’t let it go to your head Seaweed Brain” Annabeth stated before leaning into her ridiculous boyfriend. Burying her face into his defined chest, greedily inhaling ocean air and salt as he wrapped his arms around her. (She wasn’t hiding her face. She wasn’t). “It's just…I'm the first child of Athena to attend New Rome’s university. Minerva might be a respected deity here, but she doesn't have any children. I'm an anomaly to them”

“A child who shouldn't exist” she heard Percy hum in consideration above her, his voice sounding distant. Solemn.

“Right,” Annabeth stated. A bitterness that she hated existed weaved within her words. “Minerva still has her wisdom and crafts but she's not a war deity. Not even now. What I'm trying to say is-”

“You just want to make sure you're doing your mom's name justice by being here. I get it”

Annabeth doubted it.

While he maybe had a semblance of an idea how she felt when he'd been a Child of the Big Three during the time of the Oath, it wasn’t the same.

Doubly so here in New Rome. There was no legacy he needed to live up to for being the son of Neptune because he wasn’t one. (Not that Neptune was a respected deity here anyway so regardless the matter was a moot point).

Unlike her, Percy had never cared about his father’s approval.

Nor had he ever needed to work for it.

No matter what stupid or disrespectful things he said or did, Percy always held his father’s favor.

He had no demigod siblings he needed to compete with either.

He didn’t know what it was like to feel both overwhelming acceptance, and yet searing hatred for the very same people you slept next to. Ate with. Commiserated joy with.

He never had to learn how to toss aside his morality so that he could do whatever he needed to do, including stepping over his own friends and family members, crushing them underfoot in order to gain just that shred of recognition from his godly parent.

He had no expectations that he needed to uphold either.

Not that he would have cared if he did.

Just like the ever-changing tides, Percy did things his own way.

It was one of the many things that aggravated her about him. His at-your-own-pace tempo clashing against her literal in-born need to plan and schedule everything in her life.

Piper would say that’s why they worked so well together. Like how she and her did. Logic and emotion together.

But that didn’t mean that they didn’t still butt-heads.

It was no secret that she and Percy worked best with her at the controls. Percy was the strong and steady ship, and she was the captain manning the helm, directing the ship where it needed to go.

And right now she needed to steer Percy to understand the logical half of whatever explanation his emotion driven instincts thought he understood.

“It’s not just about upholding the honor of Athena. I feel like everyone is watching my every move. Just waiting for me to mess up and prove that all their stupid biases are right and that the children of Athe-Minerva are mistakes” Annabeth relayed bitterly, her words slightly muffled between Percy’s pectorals.

“Well they're wrong,” Percy exclaimed, holding her tighter.

“Tell them that” Annabeth groused.

“I will”

“Fine”

“Good”

Annabeth unwittingly barked out a laugh. “Alright Seaweed Brain I get it”.

“Good,” Percy stated. As she lifted up her face to look at him she was met with a soft smile. “No matter what you decide to do I'll support you”

With a kiss to her forehead Percy stepped back. “Why don’t you take a bath? We can worry about lunch after”.

Annabeth wasn’t about to disagree. After her emotional rollercoaster of a day she could use some me-time to decompress.

“Your stuff is still in the caddy under the sink” Percy called out to her as she shut the bathroom door.

Sure enough, as Percy said, her lemon-scented bath products were right where they were supposed to be.

Placing the caddy on the windowsill, Annabeth turned on the tub. Deciding that yes, today did call for her lemon-scented bath bomb, once the water was high enough she dropped the cartoon lemon shaped mixture into the tub, watching as the water immediately started fizzing and turning yellow. Turning off the water, Annabeth slowly sunk down into the bath, the heated water immediately relaxing her muscles while the aroma of lemons soothed her to a place of ease and security.

It was a shame that Percy wasn’t with her. Sometimes she’d have him jet the water around like a hot tub. But that would defeat the purpose of her much needed alone time.

Besides, there was always tonight. And there were other ways that Percy could help with her tension.

She must have dozed off as before she knew it her bath timer was ringing. Her thirty minutes of relaxation were up.

With a slightly disappointed hum she unplugged the drain, raising herself up out of the tub and grabbing her fluffy gray towel to wrap herself in.

Hopefully Percy planned for something other than a picnic for lunch, she thought as she redid her hair into dutch braids.

If not, there was a Thai restaurant she’d been wanting to try near UCB that he could take her to for dinner to make it up to her.

Securing the towel around her chest, Annabeth made her way back into the main living area of the dorm room.

Percy's back was to her as he typed away on his laptop.

Considering how he had boasted about completing all his assignments before break he was likely working on one of his manuscripts.

So engrossed in whatever it was that he was doing, Percy hadn't even so much as noticed her presence.

Not even when she dropped her towel to the floor with a resounding thud.

With an amused huff, Annabeth opened the top left of Percy's dresser and pulled out some of her spare clothes. A pair of jean shorts that shaped her legs and rear nicely, and a gray camouflage halter top that made her eyes pop.

Ready to go, Annabeth debated the pros and cons of throwing her towel at Percy's head to get his attention.

On the one hand it would be hilarious to see his face when he turned around thinking she was naked.

On the other hand, she would feel slightly bad if the dampness of the towel ended up accidentally damaging any of the drafts, notes, or papers scattered about in the chaotic mess Percy called his desk.

She would never understand how Percy could function in any capacity with his personal space being so cluttered all the time.

Just visiting his room made her ADHD brain go haywire.

Of course she'd already tried multiple times to get him to adhere to a more appropriate organizational structure (not unlike her own). But she has long since accepted that until they start living together she won't be able to properly enforce it. So she let her boyfriend have his “organized chaos” (for now).

Regardless, seeing that unless she snapped Percy out of his own mind, lunch would be but a forgotten memory, Annabeth padded her way across the room. Intentionally keeping her steps light and soundless.

She still wasn't sure if when she wrapped her arms around his neck whether she would kiss him or put him in a chokehold.

Finally at his back, Annabeth paused. Her eyes went from Percy's neck, to the screen in front of him.

Suddenly unable to contain her curiosity at what had entrapped Percy's mind so deeply that he still hadn't registered her presence, Annabeth leaned over her boyfriend’s shoulder to get a glimpse of what it was that he was typing.

She assumed it was one of his drafts for his latest manuscript on the minor Greek Gods.

Or as Percy had dubbed it: Percy Jackson's Greek Gods volume III.

Annabeth stamped down on the errant bubble of irritation that she pointedly refused to name and focused instead on reading what she could.

While the ridiculousness of his writing style grated on her factual sensibilities, the books themselves weren't meant to be used for research or scholarly purposes, and were at least good for a laugh or two where Percy's satirical humor was concerned.

Honestly, it still amazed her how he hasn't been blasted by the gods yet for authoring the series.

Sure the books were published “anonymously”, but if the gods really wanted to it would take almost no effort to figure out who the audacious brat was that wrote the books from the text alone.

She supposed she would have to come up with a plan for that too.

But first…

Annabeth stiffened. Her eyes widening in disbelief as her eyes roamed over the text.

The Lightning Thief.

No.

No.

Surely Percy knew better than to write about-

Scanning over the text again, Annabeth's mouth tightened as a scowl quickly made its way onto her face.

“What's this?” Annabeth demanded, her tone brisk as she let her displeasure be known.

Percy jumped slightly in his seat. His head whipped around to her in surprise.

“Well?” Annabeth stated impatiently, tapping her foot in annoyance.

“Wha-I…What?,” Percy exclaimed dumbly, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“This, Percy. What is this?” Annabeth hissed out, reaching around to grab the laptop from him.

Percy swiftly closed the laptop, his hands desperately blocking hers from lifting it off the desk in a vain attempt to try and to hide things from her. Something he should already know better then to do.

“Nothing,” Percy exclaimed, distress evident in his tone. “It's stupid”.

“Seaweed Brain” Annabeth growled. The warning in her voice was clear enough that a deaf person could hear it. “Let go”.

“Fine, just…let me explain first” Percy grimaced, reluctantly removing his hands from the laptop.

Annabeth immediately placed the laptop securely under her arm and out of Percy's reach as she glared down at her troublemaking boyfriend who very aptly looked as if he just got caught with his hand in the blue cookie jar.

“I'm waiting,” Annabeth demanded, eyebrow raised.

Percy sighed, averting his eyes from her gaze and awkwardly rubbing harshly at his face and neck.

“During my last meeting with my publicist and editor…My publicist suggested that I write an autobiography,” Percy began. “Of course my editor loved the idea. But I refused…At least I did at first…”

She counted to sixty.

When Percy didn't continue Annabeth pointedly kicked him in the shin.

“Geez! I got it, okay!” Percy hissed out.

Annabeth rolled her eyes and merely impatiently gestured for him to go-on.

Percy sighed again.

“Writing a book all about myself is the stuff of my nightmares,” Percy proclaimed quietly. His eyes distant as he gazed unseeing out the singular window in the dorm. “But then I started thinking about all the quests…Everyone we lost”

“Percy-”

“Before I knew it I was eight chapters into a story I hadn't wanted to tell,” Percy exclaimed. Finally turning his gaze back to hers.

Annabeth wondered if her eyes were also reflecting the ghosts of the past that haunted her just as Percy’s did.

“It's not an autobiography. Not really,” Percy said. “But after everything. All the quests. All the wars. Luke, Ethan, Chris. Zoe and Bianca. Beckendorf, Silena, and Michael. Jason and Leo. Dakota…The whole reason I agreed to do more books on the minor gods was for Jason. To honor his memory. But this? This? This is for us”

The sheer intensity in Percy's eyes was suffocating. His passion dragging her in like a whirlpool, sucking her beneath the depths with no hope of resurfacing.

“You want to build a monument to last a thousand years. Well, this will be my monument. Something permanent I can leave behind. Something that future generations of demigods can use in order to hold the gods accountable. To remind them of their oath to me. To all of us. No matter how much time passes” Percy declared.

Not for the first time Annabeth was rendered speechless by Percy Jackson.

Her Seaweed Brain always had a way of surprising her. Keeping her on her toes the same way she liked to do to him.

She never liked surprises.

Surprises disrupted plans.

And as a demigod, surprises generally never meant anything good.

Though sometimes the surprises worked in her favor.

This though?

Annabeth didn’t know how to feel about Percy’s declaration.

Though she supposed it would be more accurate to say that she was feeling too much.

A cacophony of emotions tangled and knotted within each other, wound so tightly she did not know where one thread began and another ended. Nor could she decipher which thread connected where.

Butterfly flutters weighed down by stone. Surges of pride coiled with an undercurrent of simmering coals. The bubbles of the unnamed irritation she had pushed down earlier rising with the heat. The thrum of excitement pounded through her veins…Or perhaps it was dread.

She should be gratified. Overjoyed even, that Percy was taking inspiration from her.

So then why…

“-beth”

So then why did the gratification feel more like apprehension?

“-nabeth”

Why did the joy feel like fear?

“Annabeth!”

“What?!” she snapped back.

When did Percy get in front of her?

“Annabeth…Are you okay?” Percy asked, sounding uncertain and wary. His hands held outstretched, but not touching her. As if she were some fragile piece of glass that would shatter upon contact.

An emotion Annabeth did recognize surged up: Anger.

“I’m fine Seaweed Bra-”

“Annabeth, your hands are shaking,” Percy exclaimed. His voice soft as he cut her off.

Annabeth followed his gaze. Sure enough, there was the slightest tremor in her hands.

Immediately clenching her hands into fists she glared back up at her ridiculous boyfriend once again causing her anxiety because of his big heart and well-meaning gestures.

“I’m fine, Seaweed Brain.” Annabeth firmly declared (She was. She needed to be. She would be). “Just overwhelmed with the litany of plans that I’m going to have to come up with in order to keep the gods from smiting you”

Percy gave her a half-hearted smile. Obviously not believing her, but he knew better than to challenge her on it.

“I’d expect no less,” he said, reaching out to give her hand a brief squeeze before pulling back.

“If you want, you can read over what I have so far. Right now I have about twenty chapters drafted out of the twenty-two that I have outlined,” Percy offered. Clearly doing his best to extend an olive branch to her.

Sweet. But unnecessary. Offered or not, it wouldn’t have changed her decision.

“Obviously I’m going to read it over, Seaweed brain. Between the two of us I’m the one with the better memory. Can’t have you mixing up the details with something as important as this,” Annabeth deadpanned.

Percy laughed. “Have at it then. With the speed you read, by the time I’m done getting ready you’ll be finished”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the small uptick making its way to the corner of her lips.

“Make sure you brush,” she told him. Settling atop Percy’s bed once more as she watched her boyfriend meander his way back into the bathroom.

“I’ll have you know that I already brushed my teeth this morning,” he exclaimed with a pout. Though she did catch him subtly trying to scent his breath.

She didn’t fight the smile this time. “I meant your hair, Seaweed Brain”

“Oh,”

“Get dressed,” she said, shooing him away with a dismissive hand. “I’ll critique”

“Hey!”

“Percy”

“Fine”

The moment she heard the bathroom door click closed Annabeth immediately got to work.

Flipping the laptop open she scrolled back to the title page.

The Lightning Thief.

This time she knew the force pounding through her veins was anticipation.

Not yet good or bad.

She wouldn’t learn the answer to that until she started reading.

And that was the question wasn’t it?

What she would find.

She didn’t have high expectations. Not with what she knew of Percy’s writing style and the gravity of their lives. His storytelling didn’t generally allow for the darker connotations to thrive without levity disrupting it. Hiding the darkness behind a mask of comedy.

But she was curious.

No.

This building hunger was something she was very familiar with.

Insatiability.

She knew she would not be able to leave this room until she has dissected every word he’s written.

And so she began.

She should have known that Percy would have thrown her for a loop in the opening sentence.

He could be so dramatic sometimes.

But giving credit where credit was due, she was pleasantly surprised that the story was reading like, well a story. (She ignored the bubbles multiplying. Shoving their way up the surface once again).

Only pausing to huff out a laugh at Percy’s less than flattering description of Grover.

Suddenly, an uncomfortable feeling stabbed at the back of her skull.

If that is how he described Grover, then what will Percy say about you?, her brain unhelpfully questioned.

Shut up, she told it right back.

But the damage was already done.

Once thought, she couldn’t erase the question from her mind.

Her very being demanding an answer.

She should read the story chronologically.

Don’t you already know what happens though?, her traitorous brain challenged. You’re just confirming that the details align.

True, she thought.

Though she did always want to know more about what happened with Alecto…And she just knew that Percy got all the statues and art pieces wrong.

She loved him, but Percy couldn’t tell the difference between Greek and Medieval armor even if the display case labeled it for him.

Still…She could always go back…

Decision made, Annabeth started scrolling quickly through the pages. Her eyes hyperfocused on catching anything that would tip her off to her entrance into the story. (She would have to go back to that part about Gabe. Percy never did talk about him. Probably because aside from his disastrous school record his own childhood struggles paled in comparison to hers. He was considerate of her feelings that way).

Scrolling faster, she suddenly halted mid-flick when her eyes caught a singular word.

Minotaur.

Much like Alecto, nobody knew the details of how Percy had defeated the infamous monster. Not even Grover.

Worrying her teeth on her lip, Annabeth hesitated.

She was so close to her part.

So close…And yet…

Unable to deny herself, Annabeth scrolled back up. This time more carefully. Halting at the ridiculous chapter title that was 100% a Percy Jackson special.

My Mother Teaches Me Bullfighting.

Of course Sally was the reason he won. She should have known.

Regardless, she was already committed to the chapter and so, she started reading.

Despite already having an idea of the bare-bones of what happened, it didn’t stop her from experiencing the anxiety of the characters as they begged, pleaded, to make it to the boundary line. To safety. All the while knowing their prayers were fruitless.

Sally Jackson would never make it to Thalia’s Tree.

Knowing that she was still alive and thriving in the new life she’d clawed out for herself was only a cold comfort to the reality of how terrifying it was to read in detail how she disintegrated into a shower of gold dust.

If Sally didn’t help Percy…then maybe Grover?, she questioned. Thoroughly stumped on how Percy could have possibly pulled such an upset when he was weaponless.

She got her answer soon after.

“What?” she muttered, completely dumbfounded.

No. I had to have read that wrong, she thought. Her eyes scanned over the passages again. Once. Twice. Three times before sitting up with a scowl on her face.

“Catch a mistake?”

Annabeth startled.

Looking up she saw that Percy was now standing in front of her. His hair swept to the side more purposefully, with an evergreen short-sleeved Henley that brought out his eyes, and a dark wash pair of jeans that hugged his legs without clinging so tightly that it would restrict his movement.

He really was unfairly pretty.

“You ripped off the Minotaur's horn with your bare hands?” Annabeth questioned. The skepticism in her tone was unmistakable as she lifted up an eyebrow at him in a silent demand to explain.

“I'm pretty sure I got a boost from the rain,” Percy shrugged. As if his words were no big deal. “Plus I was pretty pissed off at the time”

“The rain's never given you a power boost before…Has it?” Annabeth interrogated, narrowing her eyes sharply at him.

Percy shrugged again. The movement making Annabeth’s eye twitch in her steadily growing ire.

Clearly Percy noticed as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't know Annabeth, maybe storm rains from my dad are different? Besides, does it really matter? I still ripped its horn off. And I’m pretty sure I didn’t clarify where the surge of power came from in the story, so it shouldn't make a difference either way, right?”

Annabeth didn’t deign to respond. Satisfying herself with making Percy squirm at her silence before returning her gaze back to the screen.

Did it really matter?, she sneered.

Yes! Yes it did!

It didn’t fit with the rest of her data!

Percy could create storms. Within these storms Percy could control the rain and thunder and winds etcetera. Similar to Jason, though weaker. Percy didn’t have the full gambit of control over the weather. Just the parts associated with storms. Certified. Check.

Despite having limited control over storm rains, Percy was proven on several observed accounts that he was not immune to getting wet in the rain like he was with other water sources. Nor was he ever observed to gain a surge of power from them. Certified. Check.

So yes. Percy hypothesizing that it was the rain that gave him a power boost is a big deal!

It went against all her data!

Just like with Elisson.

Daedra and Phaedra.

The Underworld Rivers.

Akhy-

Annabeth gripped the keyboard so hard she swore it would start cracking apart from the force.

“We’ll talk later,” Annabeth said briskly. Not even bothering to look at him (She couldn’t-She could. She just didn’t want to).

Committed to finishing the chapter, Annabeth read through the final lines. Her eyebrow twitching as her lips unwittingly quirked up in a half-smirk.

Leave it to Percy to unknowingly score himself some brownie points, Annabeth huffed.

“Princess curls?” Annabeth teased.

Percy’s face lit up a delicious red.

“Hey! I was half delirious! Cut me some slack!” Percy squeaked.

“Oh? So my hair isn’t as pretty as a princess’s?” Annabeth jokingly teased.

“That’s not-You know what I meant!” Percy exclaimed.

Seeing her boyfriend turning even redder she supposed she would throw him a bone.

“I’m just going to read a bit more,” she told him, shifting her gaze back to the laptop once again.

“Go ahead,” she heard Percy say. “It’s not one o’clock yet. We have time”

I Play Pinochle with a Horse.

Of course he would explain it like that, Annabeth scoffed. He better hope that Chiron never reads this.

Annabeth would never admit to speed reading through the sections that didn’t include her.

If asked it was purely coincidental and because she was short on time.

She should have known that Percy’s physical description of her would be the only flattering thing he described.

The infirmary. The tour. Capture the Flag.

It was all written in such a way that whomever read it would think that she was just some self-centered bitch!

Yes, she interrogated Percy when he was barely conscious, but that was only because Chiron and Mr. D weren’t telling her anything! She knew something serious was going on and that she could help, and they were just brushing her off! And it’s not as if she didn’t nurse Percy back to health!

And how was it her fault that she didn’t know that Chiron hadn’t shown him the orientation video?! That was standard protocol! Everyone saw the video!

Of course leave it to Percy to be different and make her look like a snobby brat.

Percy had always made her life more difficult than it needed to be from the onset, so really she shouldn’t be surprised. It was par for the course really.

But Capture the Flag.

How dare he reduce her brilliant strategy to a flawed and misguided plot!

Making it all about him and how he was used as bait instead of how the sacrifice of the few outweighed the lives of the many.

Suddenly, a tingling sensation went up Annabeth’s spine.

If this is how he portrayed me in the beginning...How did he portray me during the quest?, Annabeth wondered gravely.

Percy’s concerned inquiries faded to background noise. Nothing else registered except the click of the mouse and the low mechanical zip as she resumed scrolling, reading, and skipping with laser focus.

It was worse than she imagined.

Each scene Percy had himself painted as the hero. As carrying the whole quest on his back.

He took out two Furies while she and Grover struggled with one.

He dreamed of the Titan Lord.

He had sensed that something was wrong at the Arch that she made them visit.

The only time he gave her any credit was when she and Grover saved his hide from Medusa!

And then there was Waterland.

Deep breaths. One. Two. Three, Annabeth told herself. Desperately trying to hold the fraying bits of her self control together.

“How dare you”

“Annabeth, wha-”

“Perseus Alexios Jackson! How dare you make me look like a fool!” Annabeth roared. “How dare you make it seem like you were the only hero! That you did everything on the quest! You and I both know that if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t know anything about the Greek mythological world! The fact that you have the gall to write such lies disgusts me!”

“Lies?! Annabeth, I’m-I’m so confused right now. Please just tell me what-”

“Stop lying,” Annabeth bellowed, just stopping herself short of punching Percy in the face. “I thought I knew who you were Perseus Jackson, but clearly I was wrong”

Percy opened his mouth to no doubt spout some more drivel.

He no longer had such privileges.

“You wouldn’t have gotten a quarter as far as you have without me, Jackson” Annabeth jeered. Relishing in Percy’s flinch at her appellative. “I guess all those times you’ve called me the “smartest and strongest demigod of our generation bar none” was just pretty words meant to placate me to how you really thought”

“Bravo,” she said snidely, even giving him a mocking clap. “Star-studded performance. Ten out of ten won’t watch again”

“Annabeth, stop! I don’t understand where this is all coming from! What do you mean I made you look like a fool? If anything I was the fool-”

“EXACTLY!” Annabeth roared, charging at her intending target.

Percy immediately backed away from her, wincing and he nailed his leg on the corner of his desk.

“YOU were the fool! And yet, somehow, I was the one portrayed that way!” Annabeth snarled. “You made me look like a brat! A naive child! A foolish coward!”

Her fury finally reaching its apex, Annabeth threw the laptop down onto the vinyl flooring with every bit of strength she had. The sound of the chassis shattering, its contents scattering across their feet like a failed firework, gleefully soothed the wounded bits of herself still licking their hurts.

Swiveling back, Annabeth moved so that Percy was cornered between the desk, wall, and her. The fake tears in his stupid baby seal eyes would never affect her again.

“I did just as much as you on our quests. If not more,” Annabeth growled, harshly jabbing her finger repeatedly into Percy’s chest. Ensuring that he felt her pain with each and every word she said. “And I’ll make sure that you and everyone else remembers that”

“Is that right?”

Fury blazing hot once again, it took Annabeth a second longer than she’d like to admit before she’d realized that it wasn’t Percy who said those words.

No. If Percy’s horrified gaze was any indication the perpetrator was behind her.

Darling, Annabeth sneered. Figures he’d come back now.

Steeling herself for yet another battle, Annabeth wheeled around to finally give Caleb Darling a piece of her mind.

Except it wasn’t Caleb Darling.

No.

Standing in front of her was a nearly indistinguishable writhing mass of matter and energy.

The longer she looked at it, the more features she could make out.

The agitated wings of a hawk. Eyes slit like a snakes’ with the tongue and fangs to match. Gold and silver scales reminding her of coins shimmered across smooth brown dirt colored skin. Rooster feathers adorned what she thought were elbows. Ram horns poking out from underneath a golden winged helmet.

Annabeth’s eyes hurt.

“-op!”

Why did her eyes hurt?

“-top!”

Why couldn’t she breathe?

“Stop!”

Percy was screaming.

Why was Percy screaming?

Annabeth watched helplessly as Percy stupidly flung himself at the monster, wrapping himself around it as if it wouldn't disintegrate him upon contact.

“Hermes, stop!”

Hermes.

The monster…No. The predator in front of her was an Olympian.

One whose horrors she’d only read about in stories. Myths.

This was wrath.

This was the vindictive vengeance that would stop at nothing until everything good in her life was crumbled into the dirt beneath his winged shoes.

And It was staring right at her.

And Annabeth couldn’t move.

Not even when It stepped forward towards her.

Once.

I’m going to die, Annabeth realized.

Twice.

“-ad day! She--n’t mea--it”

Thrice.

“Ple--ait! I’ll---thing!”

It suddenly dawned on her with a harsh clarity.

Quarce.

She didn't want to die.

Suddenly. Just as it began, the crushing pressure abated.

Her body gasped, violently sucking in as much air as it could as she collapsed to her hands and knees.

Annabeth didn’t know how long she was forcefully prostrated like that. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time held no meaning anymore.

Once her body was no longer spasming out of control, Annabeth ever so cautiously lifted her head.

Sky blue eyes met storm gray.

While the god was no longer a terrifyingly ethereal eldritch mass of concepts and beliefs, she felt no more safe within his sights than when he had been.

She would never be able to picture anything but the inhuman features cloaked beneath his false human skin and UPS uniform.

And seeing Percy wrapped possessively within said god’s arms only made her fear spike further.

She had to save him.

They had to get away.

But where could you possibly go that the god of travelers could never find you?, her traitorous brain reminded her.

Alaska!

The land beyond the gods!

If she could just-

“It seems you have yet to temper your pride,” Hermes declared. “Ĭ̵̠ ̸̩͐w̴͙̚ò̵̡n̷̡͛ď̵̹ë̷̡r̵̳̓ ̵͖̈́ḧ̶̳́o̵̯͌w̵̦̿ ̴̖̆l̸̏͜o̴̳͆ṋ̵͊g̷̙̏ ̸̳̊i̵̮̐t̴͖́ ̷͉̓w̶̰̅i̷̳͆l̶̲̕ḽ̸̐ ̴͎̓t̴͕̀à̸̡k̸͕̀é̸̢ ̵̜̏f̶̖͐o̵͇͝ṟ̷͆ ̵̬̊y̶̙̏o̴͕͐ů̵̡r̷̪̈ ̷̤̑l̶͚̃ṷ̵͘c̴̦̈́ḳ̸̕ ̷͉͆t̶̀ͅo̴̩̎ ̷̺̎f̵͓̅í̶̜n̶̝͝a̴͎͠l̷̗͠l̶̠̅ÿ̵̻́ ̸͙͋r̷͉͒u̴͕͆n̸̨͗ ̶̉ͅo̶̝̓ǘ̵̺t̸̠̓”

Before she could even process his words, they were gone.

And Annabeth found herself alone in an empty room.

Chapter Text

Annabeth hated curses.

Or rather, she supposed it would be more accurate to say that she hated being the one cursed.

Annabeth’s fingers tightened along the sides of her laptop, causing the outer casing to make an increasingly alarming creaking noise.

Stupid, arrogant, conceited little… Annabeth swore.

“I’m guessing you still haven’t figured out a way to fix your emails yet?”

Startled, Annabeth glanced up from the screen in front of her.

Her gray eyes met Hana’s brown as they looked warily up at her from where her friend was laying flat on her stomach in her own bed on the other side of their dorm room, her Architecture of Art History textbook lying open in front of her.

Annabeth blinked, her eyes growing almost owlish as she stared at her friend who hadn’t been there just a minute ago…

Hana huffed in amusement. “I got in at twelve.”

Annabeth adjusted her glasses to scan the digital clock next to her bed.

Twenty-five minutes.

Annabeth frowned.

“I was wondering what had gotten you so lost in your own head this time,” Hana said. “I should’ve figured it was the email thing again. I’m telling you, there’s this computer-wiz in the IT department that can-”

“Hana.”

The other girl’s mouth clicked shut.

“I already told you.” Annabeth said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. It wasn’t her friend that she was mad at after all. “It's not just some virus or coding error. Even if I get another laptop and make all new email accounts, I still won’t be able to send messages.”

And that was the kicker wasn’t it?

Email. Text messages. Phone calls. Letters. Dreams. Spirit mail. Scrying oil. Ravens.

Nothing worked.

Not even methods of communication from other pantheons.

She couldn’t so much as use smoke signals or morse code without the wind blowing away the smoke and the batteries in her flashlight dying (Yes, she had gotten that desperate at one point).

Hades, even when she attempted to use naturally reflected light, the rays of the Sun Chariot miraculously refracted from every glass surface except the ones she was using (Her skin was still peeling from the sunburn she received from stupidly cursing out a certain biased Sun God in broad daylight).

As it was, all forms of communication were currently blocked from her accessibility.

Including speech.

The second she realized that Hermes was blocking all means of messages and technological communications she went right to Hazel and Frank in order to tell them what was happening.

She’d been a fool.

She had angered…no…infuriated the Greek God of communication, language, messengers, and orators (And liars).

She should have known that he wouldn’t have left such an obvious loophole.

When she had burst her way into the praetors’ office, the first thing she had planned to say was that Percy had gotten himself kidnapped again.

…Except that wasn’t what had come out of her mouth.

“Hermes took Percy because of me!”

She should have known it was a trap.

Frank’s expression pinched in confusion. “What?”

She should have noticed the convenient ease by which she had slipped past the guards.

“Why would Lord Mercury do that?” Hazel inquired.

Realized that the doors hadn’t been locked.

“Not Mercury. Hermes!”

It was a misunderstanding. Percy and I were arguing.

“I was yelling at Percy and broke his laptop.”

She’d been a fool.

“You what.” Hazel demanded. The concern in her tone was consumed by a fierce protectiveness. Her molten gold eyes burned into her. Judging her. Weighing her worth (No. No, not gold. Not like Kro- His. Metallic gold. Like gold bars).  

She should have known it was a trick. And yet she had fallen headfirst into it.

“Why would you do that?” Frank implored.

She could practically hear the laughter in the light breeze echoing into her ears.

“Annabeth?” The hurt desperation on his face practically pleading for her to reassure him that what he had heard was wrong.

It was. ( It wasn’t ).

She had been played by the god of tricksters.

But even still. She wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

She would flip Hermes’ petty little trick on its head. She just had to be careful of what she said.

The god was trying to twist her words. Make her look like the enemy in the scenario (She was).

So if she played into that just enough, she could beat him at his own game.

“There was an argument. He came at a bad time.”

At least that had been her plan.

“An argument?” Hazel inquired carefully. “About what?”

Annabeth didn’t like the suspicion in her voice.

She was going to show that pesky overgrown cock why Athena was the cleverest between them.

“Percy’s new manuscript. I was already stressed from classes and I let my temper get the better of me.”

Why that even in a battle of wits against the Night herself, she had been the one to come out victorious.

“Okay. Okay. So you-You just lost your temper and Lord Hermes saw and took Percy, right?” Frank said, looking like he was trying hard to convince himself of something. “It’s all just a misunderstanding then? You didn’t mean it?”

Gods she hated being proven wrong.

Of course not.

“No, I did.”

She should have known that with the god listening in that she wouldn’t have been able to weasel her way into a self-made loophole so easily.

Hazel’s eyes darkened to a more antique golden shade. Her expression hardening to one sharper than the diamonds she’s seen her effortlessly summon from the Earth.

Frank wasn’t any kinder. His subconscious slouch straightening. The teddy bear was now a grizzly.

She shouldn't have snapped at them.

“Look, I’ll explain more later! Are you going to help me find Percy or not?!”

But her fears were starting to consume her.

“Maybe you both need some time to cool off.” Frank said flintily.

The cold tension in their stances reminded her of the first time she’d met them. How they had kept Percy securely between them as they walked through the forum.

The distrust and fury in their eyes when she and Percy had reunited. Standing with their weapons drawn and pointed at her head (As her arm had been pressing into Percy’s throat).

But she couldn’t let Hermes win.

“We’ll consult the Temple of Mercurius Interpres.” Hazel declared. Though neither her expression nor her words were reassuring. “If we learn anything we’ll tell you.”

Lies.

“Leave us.”

Annabeth didn’t need to be told twice.

She vowed to salvage the misunderstanding caused by the god of liars later.

In the meantime she needed to concoct a plan to somehow get around whatever curse he’d inflicted upon her.

Except nothing worked.

Nothing.

No matter what she did. No matter what she tried. For all her strategies and plans, all her cleverness and wits.

There was no loophole.

And on top of everything else, when she tried entering Percy’s dorm so she could grab an item of Percy’s from his room in order to have Mrs. O’Leary track him down; She was instead immediately stymied by a smug Darling and an irate Julian Law. The supercilious Twenty-one year old Roman Legacy of Justitia and former member of the First Cohort turn RA.

Or in simpler terms. The newest resident pain in her podex.

Banned.

She was banned from the boy’s dormitory.

Effective immediately. Until further notice.

She didn’t even have the chance to defend herself from their ridiculous accusations!

Every time she tried she quickly found herself hacking up a lung.

It had gotten so bad that the two of them had no choice but to call the campus doctor once flecks of blood began dotting the crook of her elbow, tears streaming from her still burning and blurry eyes.

Learning she had a severe and unexpected sudden bout of laryngitis and possible permanent damage to her eyesight had been the absolute cherry on top of her already horrible day.

The doctor had sedated her when she started screaming the remainder of her voice hoarse.

Waking up to the quiet sterility of the campus infirmary was annoyingly more peaceful then she’d ever admit aloud.

For once she’d managed to rest without having nightmares plague her dreams (Probably because she was already living one).

Sneaking out had been simple. They hadn’t had the foresight to take her bag, so with one flick of her cap she was off.

Despite everything, for just the barest of moments she had breathed a little easier knowing that her cap’s invisibility magic hadn’t been stripped away (again).

That, at least, was something no other god could touch.

But she had to move quickly.

The sensation of spid- ants. Of ants, fire ants, crawling across her skin only increased with every step she took (Why?).

Her cap’s in-built disincentive (Why?).

One that hadn’t been in place when she was first gifted the cap on her twelfth birthday, but was included upon the magic's return when Athe-her mother had returned the cap to her during her quest with Sadie Kane (Why was she still being punished?).

She understood the change (She didn’t).

Athen-Her mother wanted to teach her a lesson about using power wisely (She hated it).

That all power came with a price (It wasn’t fair).

As if she didn’t already know that from Per-

No.

She needed to focus.

To ignore the fire slowly spreading throughout her entire body.

Percy needed her.

Her stupid, loveable, oblivious, trouble-bait boyfriend had just gotten himself kidnapped by the gods again (Taken from her again).

And nobody, no mortal, no demigod or Legacy, no god, Titan, Giant or Primordial, was going to stand in her way of getting him back.

Plans of war and vengeance, of spilled ichor and a claim clear enough that not even the gods could deny, had swirled like a tempest in her mind.

However, the moment her hand touched the cool metal of the door handle to room 411, she was hit with a wave of wrong, wrong, wrong.

She paused just for a moment, obeying the instincts that had kept her alive for so long.

And then pushed through.

The second her eyes roved over the room the hair on the back of her neck had stood up as the horrifying realization sunk in.

It wasn’t just Percy that was gone.

His entire half of the room was completely bare.

Everything. Every trace of Percy was gone.

The comforter and fitted sheets. The picture frames and pillows. All his clothes, toiletries, and knick-knacks. Every pen, pencil, sheet of crumbled paper, and notebook. (Even the shattered fragments of the laptop had disappeared).

Annabeth had shuttered when a gust of wind had whipped around her, blowing her cap right off her head (That vicious mockery of a cackle whispering into her ears).

Hermes.

The god had literally taken everything in the room that was Percy’s with him. Leaving absolutely nothing behind (Nothing except her).

It was as if Percy had never lived there.

As if he would never be coming back.

No, Annabeth firmly resolved, gripping her bedsheets so tightly she was sure they would rip at the seams (Or maybe it was her that was tearing apart).

One breath.

No.

Two breaths.

She wouldn’t allow it.

Percy was hers.

She had been his mortal anchor.

Percy gave up immortality to be with her.

It was the memory of her that the Queen of the Heifers couldn’t completely erase.

Percy chose to fall for her.

Annabeth sucked in another final furious breath, pulled her comforter over her face, and screamed (The fraying bits of her sanity were suddenly and forcefully pulled taut, keeping them from breaking completely).

Annabeth ignored Hana’s concerned voice.

The gods have taken her boyfriend from her for the last time. (He couldn't leave her too. She wouldn't let him).

“–beth!”

Annabeth reluctantly removed the sheets from her face. Fixing her glasses as she did. “I’m fine.”

Hana just looked down at her like she was mentally reciting the phone number for Crisis (She wasn’t crazy).

Annabeth snorted (She wasn’t).

She waved off her friend’s concern (Not yet~).

“Really. I’m fine. A friend once told me that screaming helps.”

Hana just sighed before trudging back to her half of the room once again.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Percy Jackson is a loser and you can do so much better than him” Hana declared. As if it were so simple.

“Percy isn’t a loser,” Annabeth automatically snapped back, giving her overprotective friend a withering glare. “While he can be an annoying idiot-”

“You’re not helping your case here.”

“-He’s never intentionally been malicious. He’s just an oblivious seaweed brain. Besides, the real issue is his stupid cousin.” Annabeth groused out.

“The ex-con mailman?”

“That’s the one,” Annabeth nodded.

A sudden shiver ran up her spine (Like a snake slithering underneath her clothes).

Memories of suffocation, of paralyzing helplessness and inescapable fear caused her heart to momentarily seize in dread.

Desperately shaking her head to refocus herself, Annabeth took a breath. (She could breathe. She could breathe).

“Percy only left because of him. If his cousin hadn’t interrupted us we could’ve already talked things out,” Annabeth said firmly. Her fists still clenched around the plush fabric beneath her.

Gods this whole situation was such a nightmare.

And all over the gods once again sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.

Yes, both she and Percy had handled things poorly.

And while she had every right to be furious with him, even she could admit that smashing Percy’s laptop was a step too far.

Of course this whole situation could have easily been avoided if Percy had just made me his beta writer from the start, Annabeth lamented.

But she supposed that’s why hindsight was 20/20.

However, instead of them working out their problems, Percy had gotten himself kidnapped by the god of thieves for ten days. And counting.

And the worst part was, she was entirely alone.

She couldn’t contact Chiron, Grover, Rachel, Thalia, or Piper.

Hazel and Frank were ghosting her.

The fauns wouldn’t take her bribes.

Tyson and Ella had magically been called away.

Mrs. O’Leary was missing.

Hades, she’d even risked the trek to her father’s house.

Ignoring His sole warning that, “Traveling would not be wise for you right now”.

But she’d done it.

Arriving dirty, beaten, bloodied, exhausted, and half-alive after four days of wandering in circles with monsters tailing her every step of the way.

But she’d done it.

And just when the barest embers of hope had started to flicker back to life when Sally had answered her father’s call…

“That is certainly a relief to hear! When Annabeth showed up telling me that Percy had been taken I was incredibly worried! Glad to hear that this whole thing was just a huge misunderstanding.”

…They were ruthlessly smothered.

“I’ll let Annabeth know that Percy will be returning from his guys’ trip with Mr. H some time within the next two weeks. And with a new long-term book deal to boot! Though I’m sure he’ll want to tell her the details himself. He certainly takes after you in that regard!”

She’d lost all the battles thus far.

She kept telling herself it didn’t matter so long as she won the war (And she would).

“You’re not actually serious about moving to Alaska are you?”

Annabeth turned to where Hana was now sitting at the edge of her bed, her textbooks closed and lying forgotten behind her.

“You thought I was mapping out potential viable open lands to survey and sketching out the blueprints for a self-sustaining cabin for fun?” Annabeth challenged back, raising an eyebrow at the red-head as she gestured to the geological map of Alaska currently pinned to her cork board, thoroughly covered in tacks and red thread.

“You once spent a week designing the blueprints for your own carnival. Complete with an entire dossier on the architectural history of theme park design,” Hana deadpanned. “On a whim. It wasn’t even for a class!”

“Fair,” Annabeth allowed. “But this is different. This is for Percy and I’s future”.

Hana pursed her lips again. This time her nose scrunching up in distaste. Like she had just sucked on a particularly sour lemon.

Hana got that look whenever they talked about Percy.

“Maybe you should do something for yourself.” she said. The steel in her voice surprised Annabeth.

Though considering Hana’s general dislike of Percy it really shouldn’t have.

As Annabeth opened her mouth to comment back, a ding echoed throughout the room.

It'd been so long, that for the barest of moments Annabeth couldn’t place the sound.

“Seems like your emails are working again.” Hana exclaimed, jutting her chin at her laptop.

Annabeth’s eyes slid warily to where her laptop laid cradled on her sheets.

Trap, her brain screamed. Another trick.

Annabeth gingerly lifted the laptop off her bed as if it were one of the landmines underneath the Ares’ cabin.

With a hesitant hand (She wasn’t shaking. She wasn’t), she glided her mouse over to her windows…And clicked.

Annabeth blinked. Her eyes narrowing at the screen.

It was…a response. To the email she had sent to her History Professor the Friday before everything had gone to Hades.

Did that mean the curse had finally been lifted?

Annabeth swiftly chided herself for being so naive.

If the curse had been lifted, it was because Hermes chose to lift it (And somehow, that terrified her even more).

“Well?”

She glanced up at Hana who was now hovering over her, bending her screen back just enough to read the email.

Annabeth tamped down on her instinctive reflex to grab at her friend’s wrist (She hated people touching what was hers).

Instead, she watched as Hana’s expression shifted from curiosity to thoughtfulness and finally, understanding.

Annabeth briefly wondered if the Mist was plastering itself over her vision. Adjusting certain words to allow her mortal mind to make sense of what she was reading without catching on to anything amiss.

While it could sometimes be frustrating to have a roommate that wasn’t aware of the mythological world, it was always interesting to see the Mist work itself around her roommate in real-time.

Her favorite was when Hana had mistaken Mrs. O’Leary for a black Honda Civic with a horrifically loud engine.

“Perfect timing.” Hana announced, cutting off her train of thought. “Isn’t Modern History your next class of the day?”

Annabeth glared suspiciously at the screen.

It was perfect timing.

Too perfect.

“Well? Are you going or not?” Hana asked, sitting back down on her bed with a whoosh. “I thought Dr. Olde was one of the professors at NRU you wanted to talk to about getting some additional extra credit?”

Well, she isn’t wrong, Annabeth thought. Even if it is a trick, following up with my professors was something I had intended to do this week anyway now that spring break is over.

“I say go.” Hana proclaimed. The sudden fiery determination in her eyes surprising her once again. “What’s the worst that can happen? That he says, no?”

“You have a point, I suppose” Annabeth hummed, drumming her fingers along her keyboard thoughtfully.

It could just be a coincidence.

She had emailed her professor before all this started after all.

“Then go. You can’t keep letting Percy dictate your life.” Hana spat out.

This time Annabeth narrowed her eyes at her friend.

“Hana–”

“You can’t tell me I’m wrong.” Hana challenged. “Ever since you came back from your dad’s you spent the entirety of spring break holed up in our room–”

“Hana.”

“Half the time I can’t tell if you’re plotting revenge, a rescue operation, or a kidnapping!”

“Hana!”

“What?!”

“I’m not letting Percy dictate anything.” Annabeth proclaimed, having gotten to her feet mid-way during her friend’s rant.

“Really, now?” Hana scoffed.

The sarcasm in her voice made Annabeth grind her teeth.

“Then prove it”

“I will.”

Chapter Text

Annabeth was thirty minutes ahead of schedule.

Most would be delighted with the events of their day going exactly as they planned.

Annabeth was usually one of those people.

Usually.

Taking a bite of her olive and pesto breakfast roll, Annabeth flipped through yet another page of her Modern History text. Her eyes not having read a single word. Taking care to ensure that her carefully crafted mask of nonchalance disguised her true intent.

Leaning back against the defensive cover of the brick wall behind her, Annabeth inhaled sharply before breathing out through her mouth. Projecting the image of a stressed college student cramming before their next class.

An act nobody who knew her would have fallen for, but it kept her from standing out amongst the crowd of students ebbing and flowing throughout the main street of the college.

From her vantage point, Annabeth surveyed her surroundings. For the most part, students were going about their business as usual. Some had their noses crammed in a textbook, scribbling out assignments long procrastinated with a desperate fervor as they made their way to class, with other mindful students carefully weaving their way around them in the streets. Though in her expansive peripheral vision she had spotted a collision or two as the more distracted individuals made their way around the side corners of the shops. Though the images were blurry seeing as her glasses didn’t have the same visual range she did.

A swell of sudden anger nearly made her puff up her chest in indignation at having yet another defect to work around and conceal.

No escape. I go to Tartarus, and you will come too.

Annabeth grit her teeth as a phantom twinge made her ankle spasm.

It had never quite been the same since there. But with some physiotherapy courtesy of Cabin Seven, and a hyperfixation on adjusting her combat stances so that it wasn’t too obvious that she sometimes favored one leg over the other, she was certain most of her enemies would be hard pressed to notice such a weakness.

Her eyes on the other hand…

Annabeth crumpled her napkin. The texture’s soft and easy give failed to give her any satisfaction as it crunched together in her palm with barely a sound. Tossing the ball with perfect accuracy into the trash can two feet to her right.

Unlike her ankle, the glasses were a glaringly obvious weakness that even lesser intelligent monsters would know to exploit. And unlike Jas-

Annabeth sucked in a harsh breath. Her anger making room for a more mournful emotion that she didn’t have time to dwell on at the moment.

So Annabeth swiftly contained her ever errant thoughts and shoved into a box marked for ‘later’.

When everything was taken care of she’d just have to talk to Leo about inventing demigod specific contacts, or maybe making a pair of glasses that only seemed to be more of a stylistic choice than necessary or something.

Though she’d never let the hyperactive elf come up with the design himself. Not after seeing the engraved Leo+Percy 4ever ♥ dog whistle he’d made for Percy. While it was hilarious to see the whistle light up in flashy rainbow colors whenever Percy did use it, she knew she would not nearly be as amused if Leo handed her some ridiculously gaudy glasses that, knowing him, would be bedazzled and spell out wise girl and shoot out little bursts of confetti at random intervals.

As if hearing her thoughts, the sound of raucous laughter snapped her back to attention. Her eyes immediately re-scanning her surroundings as Annabeth redirected her thoughts back to more important matters.

Her gaze falling upon the students clustered together on the green spaces situated parallel to the main cobblestone street. Each of them engaged in idle chatter. A few of them gesticulating wildly at the others. Likely recounting the wonderful events of their spring break their companions. 

Around them she spotted quite a few students amongst the masses resting about. All engrossed in a particular novel. Though the cover wasn’t one she recognized. And she was too far of a distance to make out the titles with her current temporary prescription.

“How dare you!”

Annabeth’s head whipped around, her body instinctively readying itself to flee or defend.

Though the tension quickly left her shoulders. Instead her lips quirked upwards into an amused grin as she watched an angry dryad chase around a student with what she thought was an empty coffee cup in their hand.

Unsurprisingly the student’s laughing friends weren’t spared either.

The group soon found themselves spritzed with water from the nearby fountain.

The giggles of the crinaeae sounded like the pitter patter of water on stone as the nymph disappeared with a flourish. Leaving a rainbow in her wake.

Washing down the last of her roll with her Brain Booster smoothie, Annabeth briefly debated going back to Bombilo's café for more before immediately nixing the idea. Silently chastising herself for being so easily lulled by the everyday flow of life.

Not when it was all just an illusion meant to give her a false sense of security.

Annabeth shook out the loose threads in her brain.

She wasn’t here to rest. She was gathering intelligence. Completing a recon of the greater NRU area and scoping her environment for the hidden traps she knew had to be waiting for her.

There has to be a catch, Annabeth thought as her eyes tracked yet another group of students hunched together as they walked by holding that same novel.

The Trickster wouldn’t stop his little game just because classes were back in session.

Annabeth knew better than that.

Everything up until now had mostly been petty fun for the god.

The snake merely taking its time. Playing with its food.

And now? Annabeth got the terrifying feeling that the snake was no longer satisfied just watching her squirm. That it was bored of her futile struggles as she attempted to escape its vice-like grip within its coils.

The fact that the snake was now retreating-

No.

No. It wasn’t retreating.

The snake was only pretending to slither away. Laying in wait and out of sight for the right time to strike and finally swallow its prey whole. Ending the suffering once and for all.

So no, Annabeth knew that the game was far from over.

She knew that. Logically and instinctively…and yet …

And yet, everything thus far has been painstakingly and unnervingly normal.

She had made it out of the hallways in her dorm without walking in a circle for over an hour.

It had taken the usual one-minute eleven seconds to make her way down to the ground floor.

No infinite stairwell.

As she made the trek from Stern Hall to the bus stop she hadn’t tripped on any random objects that just so happened to appear out of nowhere while traversing along the sidewalk.

The bus had been on time.

Not late. Not early and already long gone. On time.

It hadn’t even broken down mid-transit!

Even the skies had remained overcast.

Just as Weather Every Twelve had forecast, the Sun Chariot remained behind the cover of the resting Nebulae, rendering her precautionary layer of Medea’s sunscreen SPF 5000 unnecessary.

By the gods, she hadn’t even gotten lost when hiking along the new faun path connecting New Rome to the area surrounding UC Berkeley.

For the first time in two weeks she had stepped onto the copplestone streets of New Rome University without needing to change out her shoes or clothes for the spares she had packed away in her bag.

The whole thing was almost surreal.

As if the last two weeks had just been a fevered nightmare meticulously crafted by Morpheus (It wasn’t. She had already made sure).

But Annabeth knew something was coming.

She felt it in her very bones.

Annabeth shivered as a wisp of wind curled around her shoulders. Her body immediately tensed. Her hand started slowly reaching for the tableware she had grabbed from the two-headed baker’s café, silently cursing the city’s stupid no-weapons rule.

Hearing soft whistling giggles, Annabeth shifted her gaze just in time to see a mischievous aurai above her vanish.

Without warning, a sudden kick of wind whipped around a student that Annabeth vaguely recalled was a Legacy of Venus. The wind tearing his notes from his hands and blowing them about the street. Leaving the poor boy to scramble and collect each of them before they were irreparably trampled by the masses.

Of course, not finished with their little game, Annabeth watched as the aurai startled their unsuspecting victim, reappearing directly in front of him as he was bent over collecting his work. Startled, the Legacy fell onto his backside in the middle of the street.

In true fashion, the nymph flirtatiously kissed the young man’s nose before vanishing once again.

Annabeth couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the display, releasing her white-knuckled grip on the stainless-steel knife atop her remaining napkin.

Shameless, Annabeth derided.

The aurai at Camp Jupiter were ridiculous flirts. Even moreso than the naiads at Camp Half-Blood.

Annabeth scoffed, turning, mouth open to comment on the like to Percy…But was left gaping like a trout at the air.

Face hot, Annabeth shoved her face into her textbook, propping it up as if it could shield her from the world.

A sharp pang stabbed at Annabeth’s heart at the thought of her missing boyfriend.

You’re not getting away from me. Never again. (Then where are you?)

Annabeth gripped the sides of the text.

You’re part of our family now. And I promise I’m not going to fail you like our families did us. Deal? (Liar).

Breathe, she commanded.

Please remember, you always have a home with us. We will keep you safe. (They’re all liars).

Breathe.

Annabeth forced the air into her lungs. Holding it for a count of ten and then exhaling. Once. Twice. Three times.

Ridiculous, Annabeth scolded herself. I’m just letting that stupid pigeon get to me.

Hermes was trying to twist her thoughts around. (Gone).

Preyed on her insecurities and doubts. (Everything, everyone was gone).

Percy would never leave her. (Hermes took everything from her).

Not willingly anyway.

“Are you sure about that?”

Every fiber of Annabeth’s being was pulled taut at the hauntingly familiar voice.

A singular shadow stood above her.

One that hadn’t been there a second ago.

Despite every cell in her body screaming for her to put distance between her and the thing in front of her, Annabeth lowered her textbook and raised her head to meet the two voices who’d spoken in perfect unison.

“Lord Janus.” Annabeth acknowledged.

Unlike the doorman’s uniform he had been wearing the last time they’d crossed paths, this time the god was clad in the fluorescent orange and yellow vest of a crossing guard. Grasping a green Go sign in his left hand, and a red Stop sign firmly in his right.

But for the briefest of moments…Just as the sun peaked out from the clouds, its rays making her wince as they temporarily overtook her vision…The god had flickered.

For a moment. Just a moment. Annabeth was lost in a floating realm of doorways.

Some were open. Some closed.

Others were cracked just a sliver. As if enticing you to come and look at what was inside.

And then there were the ones wrapped in chains. No door handle to be seen.

Suddenly, two doors rushed to meet her.

Before either of her hands so much as twitched, a golden light flashed.

As if no time had passed, Annabeth found herself back in front of the god of crossing guards.

The sun slipping back behind the cover of the clouds.

“Well, Annabeth Chase?” the left face said, raising an amused eyebrow at her. “Shall you hear us out?”

“Or shall we go?” said his right. “Choose!”

Still not quite trusting herself to speak, Annabeth gestured to the empty chair in front of her.

“A wise choice, daughter of Athena”

“A poor choice. I love it!”

“Lord Janus.” Annabeth forced. Her hands clasped together in front of her so that the god would not see them tremble. “To what do I owe the…honor?”

Both faces gave her a sharp indulgent smile. As if they knew that honor hadn’t been the descriptor she’d wanted to use.

“You never answered my first question.” the left side scowled. “You did that in the Labyrinth too.”

One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends. But no pressure, Annabeth. Choose!

“Is that why you’re here?” Annabeth demanded, her voice as sharp as steel.

“You little Athena spawn are always so interesting. So intelligent, yet your kind can be so blinded by your hubris that all your plans, no matter how complex, blow up in your face!” the right side exclaimed with a laugh. “It’s always so entertaining to see the decisions you make when poked and prodded.”

With twin nefarious smirks, Janus raised his hands. The traffic signs left abandoned on the table.

Annabeth didn’t have time to react.

Janus clapped his hands together.

The sound echoed loudly around her. As if a door had just been slammed shut.

Ananbeth jolted back in her seat. Only vaguely registering the light blow to the back of her head from the bricks behind her as the world changed.

As if she was sitting in a theater, Annabeth watched as her life passed her by in full technicolor reels.

“You’re lucky you live with your momma.” Annabeth watched herself say as she stacked yet another domino onto her miniature temple as her cousin Magnus watched her in awe. “I’m going to run away.”

And run she did.

Annabeth could do nothing but watch as her younger self quickly figured out just how useful her pathetic little hammer wasn’t.

Desperate and hiding.

Only to find a much scarier type of monster.

One that wore a kind face.

“You’re…you’re not going to take me back to my family? Promise?”

Luke put his hand on her younger self’s shoulder. “You’re part of our family now. And I promise I’m not going to fail you like our families did us. Deal?”

“Deal!”

Annabeth wanted to scream. To rage.

"O Oracle, the time is at hand. I ask for the Great Prophecy.”

Why was Janus showing her this?

“I’m thinking,” her twelve year old self said, “that I want you on my team for capture the flag.”

Why was he forcing her through all her old memories?

“You set me up,” a twelve year old Percy sneered. His tone colder than she remembered it being.

Annabeth watched as her younger self flippantly shrugged off his words. “I told you. Athena always, always has a plan.”

Realization struck Annabeth like a freight train.

“So if the gods fight, will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?”

Annabeth watched her younger self lay down on her pack. As if closing her eyes would shield her from the weight of the words she was about to admit aloud.

“I don’t know what my mom will do. I just know I’ll fight next to you.”

Suddenly she understood. Janus wasn’t just making her relive her memories.

“Join us and you’ll be rewarded. We have powerful friends, sponsors rich enough to buy this cruise ship and much more. Percy, your mother will never have to work again. You can buy her a mansion. You can have power, fame—whatever you want. Annabeth, you can realize your dream of being an architect. You can build a monument to last a thousand years. A temple to the lords of the next age!”

A shiver went down Annabeth’s spine as she watched her younger self curse the monstrous zealot who wore her brother’s face.

“Go to Tartarus.”

Annabeth screamed at the unjustness of it all.

But of course Janus wasn’t done yet.

"Thanks."

Annabeth clenched her fists as Luke rolled out from under the weight of the sky. Leaving her to bear the burden alone as she always had.

"Help me hold it."

He won’t.

"I knew I could count on you."

"HELP ME!"

She wanted it to stop.

“He told me Kronos was going to use him to take over the world. He said he wanted to run away, like the old days. He wanted me to come with him."

"But you didn't trust him."

"Of course not. I thought it was a trick. Plus...well, a lot of things had changed since the old days. I told Luke there was no way.”

He’d made his point.

"Percy, the blade!"

"The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap."

"Family, Luke. You promised."

She understood now.

“You’ll bring down the whole cavern and kill us both!”

“Better than seeing you win!”

She didn’t need to see any more.

“Percy, let me go. You can’t pull me up.”

“Never”

She didn’t want to see any more!

“Percy, please don’t ever...Some things aren’t meant to be controlled. Please.”

She had never wanted to see Percy look as Luke had with Kronos ever again.

“Yeah…Thing is, as I was choking just now, I kept thinking: this is payback for Akhlys. The Fates are letting me die the same way I tried to kill that goddess. And…honestly, a part of me felt I deserved it. That’s why I didn’t try to control the giant’s poison and move it away from me. That probably sounds crazy.”

Wha-That’s- No!

Percy didn’t-

Jason didn’t say-

No.

No. No. No. No. No!

This was a lie!

It wasn’t true!

“One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends.”

Stop.

“Percy, promise me.”

“I promise.”

Please stop!

“You okay, cuz?”

“I will be. We...we got some bad news when we got out here.”

“We found out when we arrived. I still can’t…”

“I still wish…I wish I’d been there for Piper. I hope she’s doing okay.”

“Jason. He was the best of us.”

Stop it!

The sound of a chassis shattering echoed in her ears.

“I did just as much as you on our quests. If not more.”

“And I’ll make sure that you and everyone else remembers that.”

“MAKE IT STOP!”

As you wish.

The deafening echo of a slamming door halted the reels.

With a jolt, the theater was gone, and Annabeth found herself crumpled and dry heaving over her textbook. Her muscles spasming as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

Her entire body felt like it’d crashed into a wall at one hundred miles per hour.

Naturally, the cause of her violent bout of vertigo and nausea didn’t bother lifting a finger to help.

When her stomach was no longer trying to exit her body via her esophagus, Annabeth, slowly, lifted her head to give the god of beginnings and end the nastiest glare she could muster.

“What was that?” she demanded, ignoring the quaver in her voice.

Janus’ smile wasn’t kind. Neither of them.

“Why, your choices my dear.” the left side proclaimed.

“And their consequences.” the right side added with, in her opinion, an inappropriate amount of cheer. “Don’t you recognize them?”

She had.

But that wasn’t what she needed to know right now.

“Did Lord Hermes send you?” Annabeth queried.

A sudden horrific screeching sound very nearly had her plunging her fingers into her ears. Like a hinge in need of greasing.

It was then she realized that the god was laughing.

Both faces contorted in a twisted mirror of one another. As if what she had said was the most riotous thing in the world.

“The Greek messenger does not govern what we do.” the right side snickered.

“Doesn’t like to linger about our presence.” the left scoffed.

Annabeth understood the sentiment.

“Then why are you here?” Annabeth just short of demanded. If Hermes really had nothing to do with this then-

“You know why we’re here.” the left side declared. All the earlier amusement in his voice was gone as he stared at her with the same crazed look he had back in the Labyrinth.

“Or you can continue to pretend otherwise.” the right side offered, his half of the shared body shrugging while the other half remained inert. “The choice is yours.”

Annabeth’s mind immediately flashed to the plots of land she had planned to survey in Alaska.

A surge of dread rose up from her gut. Her stomach once again felt like it was twisting its way back up into her throat.

“Oh no, no. Not that, my dear. You’ve already made up your mind on that.” the left side said, waving its hand dismissively as if that would somehow reassure her.

“Ha! Amusing choice, that one.” the right side mocked.

Annabeth grit her teeth so hard she was sure they would crack.

So a new choice then. One she hasn’t made yet.

Annabeth thought back to what Janus had said when he’d first shown up.

“Are you sure about that?”

Annabeth wanted to stab the god in both his smug faces.

“This is about Percy.” Annabeth grit out. “Or at the very least something stemming from him.”

“Still disassociating yourself from your choices I see.” the left side tsked.

“Why something else of course!” the right side unhelpfully contradicted.

“You’re not getting away from me. Never again.”

“Bravo. Star-studded performance. Ten out of ten won’t watch again.”

“Percy won’t leave me.” Annabeth declared. Her tone unwavering. Final and resolute as she glared up at the current obstacle in her way of her future.

“You’re awfully confident about that.” the left side hummed. “Decisions involve more than one person.”

“I—we thought you were dead, Seaweed Brain!”

“I’m sorry. I got lost.”

“Perseus Jackson—if you wish it—you shall be made a god. Immortal. Undying. You shall serve as your father's lieutenant for all time.”

“No.”

“Percy, let me go. You can’t pull me up.”

“Never”

“He won’t.” Annabeth stated harshly. “Percy isn’t like Lu-”

Annabeth sucked in a ragged breath. Her throat felt like she had just swallowed a handful of glass.

“Percy isn’t like other people.” Annabeth proclaimed once more. (She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince anymore).

“I don’t mind being the bad cop.”

“Family, Luke. You promised”

"I will not turn sixteen tomorrow. I will never turn sixteen. I won't let this prophecy be mine. I stand with my sister Artemis. Kronos will never tempt me again."

"Anyone who helps Rome must perish. If you would join them, you are no child of mine. You have already failed me."

“He promised he wouldn’t leave me.” Annabeth emphasized. (Because it was true. She needed it to be true).

“Yes, yes. Perseus Jackson. Fatal flaw: Loyalty. Bah. So boring.” the left side scoffed.

“Straightforward.” the right side groused. “No entertainment whatsoever.”

“But when betrayed?” the left side chuckled darkly.

“That’s when things get juicy!” the right side agreed.

“I’ve never betrayed Percy.” Annabeth declared tightly.

Just then, a gust of wind whipped around her shoulders as a familiar whisper echoed into her ears. (Liar ~)

Annabeth observed in growing terror as both sides of Janus’ face grinned in harmony.

“That choice has already been made, my dear. Whether you own up to it or not.” the left side exclaimed. “The real question is, what will you choose from here on out?”

“Handing out relationship advice now? Should the goddess of love fear for her job?” Annabeth retorted, a sneer maring her face as her nostrils flared in her anger.

“A choice is coming Annabeth Chase.” the right side continued undeterred. “One that will determine your future for the remainder of your mortal existence in the world of the living.”

“Then I’ll make the right one.” she declared.

“Right. Wrong. You mortals like to place labels on everything. There is only the beginning.”

“And the end.”

“And the start of something new.”

Naturally having gotten the last word in, Janus then rose up from where he had been seated.

Annabeth had thought her audience was over. That the god had said his piece and would vanish in a flash of blinding light. Leaving her to deal with each and every bit of trauma he’d so helpfully drudged up.

But for one disturbing moment, both heads turned in tandem to face her.

And for the first time their voices blended seamlessly together as they gave her one last harrowing warning.

And with a snap of his fingers, Annabeth found herself in the corridor outside of her Modern History classroom.

Janus’ final words seared into her brain.

“Choose wisely.”

Chapter Text

“Choose wisely.”

“But no pressure, Annabeth.”

“Choose”

“Choose!”

As if the threads holding her together had been severed, Annabeth collapsed forward. Only having just enough presence of mind to catch herself before she face planted into the door.

Memories collided with reality. Plans frayed to the endless assault of the unknown. Doubts confronted sureties. Guilt long buried by pride and selfishness clawed to the surface. A million emotions knotting together with infinite possibilities.

“Choose”

“Choose”

“Choose”

A broken, ugly guttural sound rang in her ears. (Pain. Pain. Pain).

Annabeth didn’t know how long it took for her to register that the noise had been coming from her. (Was she imagining her nails stitching back together? The darker stain to the door disappearing?).

Stop.

She wanted it to stop.

For the first time she prayed for the blessed silence her brain had never once given her.

It never stopped.

The countless thoughts and ideas constantly interweaving within each other. Facts and plans threading and unthreading themselves as her brain processed each sound and sight. Every sensation experienced joining and finding its own place in the tapestry of knowledge that was her mind.

It never rested.

For better. Or worse.

Athena always has a plan.

Annabeth hated choices.

Annabeth hated not being in control.

Athena always has a plan.

She hated how much that phrase seemed to come back to haunt her.

Luke used to tease her mercilessly in her younger years for having such a childish little catchphrase. Equating her to the superheroes in the comic books he would sometimes steal from the dime store newsstands scattered across New York.

But it wasn’t (hadn’t been) just some silly little catchphrase to her.

It was a mantra. A way of life. (An obsession).

She had always been decisive. Even from a young age.

Annabeth knew what she wanted. And it never took long for her to figure out how to get whatever it was.

She wanted a snack from the cabinets? Easy. She would use her chubby little toddler arms to push a chair closer to the counter.

Child locks on the handles? No problem. All she had to do was watch how her father opened them.

Toys? Games? Museum Visits? Child’s play.

She wanted to be the top of her kindergarten class? Almost effortless (She hated her Dyslexia).

Her father’s attention? More challenging with his dedication to his work, but he was always quick to cave in to her requests.

That is, until she came along.

Azami Satō.

Annabeth had always achieved what she wanted in the end. Even if her initial plan didn’t succeed, she wouldn’t rest until her objective was complete.

But for the first time in her life, Annabeth encountered a variable she had never anticipated or planned for.

For the first time in her life, none of her plans worked.

No matter what she did, or what she said, no matter what plan she had come up with, she could not rid Azami Satō from her and her father’s lives.

For the first time in her life Annabeth didn’t have control.

And she hated it.

She hated not having her father’s sole attention.

She hated how her father would listen to Azami and not her.

How he so easily moved on with his life and had a new normal family and just expected her to go along with it all. To go along with his plan without her having a single say in any of it.

When the spiders started attacking her she knew she needed to do something drastic.

So she ran away.

She hadn’t meant to leave for as long as she had.

Just long enough to make her father understand what his actions had caused. To show him the rift that Azami and her sons had torn between them.

In choosing to run away she thought she was regaining control of her life.

She was naïve.

For the second time in her life, Annabeth lost control.

Monsters bigger and scarier than she ever imagined sulked out of alleys, emerging from the shadows like real-life boogeymen. Sometimes they looked like people. Sometimes they didn’t.

She watched as Argos, her beloved Doberman her father had gifted to her for protection when she was a toddler, ever loyal to the end, was torn apart and devoured. (His pained howls haunt her even now).

She was terrified.

She wanted her father.

But she couldn’t go home.

It wasn’t safe anymore. (She hadn’t been gone long enough for her disaster of a plan to have had the impact she wanted).

So she did something she never had before.

She prayed to her mother.

And her mother answered.

Her mother cared. (Did she?)

And she was led to Luke and Thalia. (Or was it all just the Fates’ design?)

After Thalia’s ‘death’ she joined Camp Half-Blood and learned more about her heritage.

Athena always has a plan.

It wasn’t just a catchphrase. It was a vow to herself. A vow to do better.

Azami Satō and Frederick Chase would be nothing but a forgotten blight.

From then on she would ensure her plans never failed (No matter what).

That she would always be in control (Because if she was in control she couldn’t be hurt).

And she was.

She made sure of it.

Becoming a Senior Counselor by the time she was twelve only cemented it. 

But Annabeth hadn’t been satisfied with just that.

No. She knew she was meant for more than just rotting away inside the boundaries of Camp.

She wanted to be like the heroes of old.

Not in action (No, she would do better than them). But in legend.

She wanted to be remembered like they were.

To be a permanent mark on history.

She would create a future for herself that would stand the test of time.

She wanted to be an architect and create structures that would last a thousand years. (Permanency).

She wanted a quest. To lead a quest (Like Luke).

She would prove her worth (She would succeed where he had failed).

Prove that she did have what it takes to survive in the unforgiving mortal world (She would succeed this time).

She would be legendary.

Her mother’s favored champion.

Just like Odysseus had been.

Only she wouldn’t make the same mistakes he did (She had).

And Annabeth always got what she wanted in the end (No matter what).

Everyone (except Luke and Chiron) was just a means to an end. An asset she could use, or a liability she needed to dispose of.

Athena always has a plan.

Annabeth had written off Azami Satō as a one-off. An error born from her inexperience. One that wouldn’t stand as she was now.

Then came Perseus Alexios Jackson.

And suddenly, all the control that Annabeth had clawed out for herself was threatened.

And it was all she could do to sink in her talons as deep as they could go in order to maintain some semblance of control.

Perseus Jackson was change. Fluctuation. Unpredictability and recklessness.

And he refused to be contained.

He didn’t care about glory or the gods. Nor for the tales of old and long held traditions and expectations.

He challenged the status quo as if it were as easy as breathing.

Percy Jackson was the perfect personification of the seas (Of his father).

And the seas couldn’t be controlled.

Annabeth should have known that the Fates would be so cruel.

Of course her Hero’s Journey would involve her having to overcome her intrinsic opposite in order to achieve the greatness she knew she was meant for.

Annabeth was never so prideful that she believed that she could tame something as old and powerful as the seas.

But Percy Jackson wasn’t his father.

Percy Jackson was mortal.

Annabeth might not be able to tame the seas, but she could tame Percy Jackson.

She had to.

Because he was the one. Her chance. Her out. Her path to achieving the glory she knew she was meant for.

And if she ever wanted to achieve her goals, then she needed to find a way to get him to listen to her.

To control his direction like a dam controlled the release and flow of the water it contained.

She needed to be that dam.

Athena always has a plan.

And it worked…As well as it could anyway.

While Percy could be changeable and unpredictable, she realized that he was also loyal and compassionate too.

Unwittingly, Percy slowly became more than just a means to an end for her.

While their polarity was annoying and grated on her nerves, Percy’s loyalty and trust was an easy enough thread to tug on to keep him in line more often than not.

Together they balanced each other out as much as they challenged one another (Not unlike their parents she supposed).

Athena always has a plan.

And through it all she managed to achieve everything that she had wanted. (But at what cost?)

“You're in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That's what you wanted isn't it?”

“Family, Luke. You promised.”

"Anyone who helps Rome must perish. If you would join them, you are no child of mine. You have already failed me."

“You’ll bring down the whole cavern and kill us both!”

"Better than seeing you win!”

“Percy, let me go. You can’t pull me up.”

“Never.”

“Percy, please don’t ever...Some things aren’t meant to be controlled. Please.”

“Jason. He was the best of us.”

Annabeth hated choices she had no control over.

She hated the god who represented those choices even more.

How he could just play with her life and future as if she was just some 2D cut-out playable character in the godly version of the Game of Life.

Her desire to scream and rage were at odds with the increasingly overwhelming anxiety that was causing her lungs to seize and hyperventilate.

“Choose wisely.”

"You are brave beyond measure, my girl. You will do what is right."

“You found the answers, as I knew you would. Your quest was a success.”

"You should've saved him when you had the chance. You're the only one who could have."

“Wisdom’s Daughter walks alone.”

“You're in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That's what you wanted isn't it?”

No.

It wasn’t just Janus.

It was all the gods.

Treating them all as if they were those prize goldfish in a bag that you could win at the fair. A momentary novelty. Something they could maybe teach a few tricks to in order to amuse themselves.

And if they shook the bag too much?

Well, they could always replace the fish.

Sure, some of them reached guinea pig status. But in the end it was all the same story.

She and Percy were guinea pigs.

Not so easily replaceable. But still placed on spinning wheels.

Percy’s disappearance and the War against Gaea made that abundantly clear.

Before then, Annabeth had never thought of having the gods’ favor as a bad thing (A certain meddling Goddess of Marriage notwithstanding).

It was everything she had ever wanted after all.

Sure she knew from the myths how having the gods’ attention could be a double-edged sword, but she wouldn’t be as foolish as those mortals had been.

And she wasn’t as foolish as them.

She was more.

She had foolishly believed that with the conclusion of the first Great Prophecy that she and Percy could bask in the glory of their story’s end and finally be together without anything else getting in their way.

That they would know peace. Have that fabled happily ever after that so few heroes and demigods ever got.

She was wrong.

If anything the gods became more involved in their lives.

Which was understandable considering who they were.

It was to be expected really.

And it hadn’t bothered her…At first.

When she wasn’t with Percy or at school she was rebuilding Olympus and creating the new cabins at Camp Half-Blood.

Exhausting, but to be expected. She was the Architect of Olympus after all. She was living her dream! The gods needed her and she would deliver as she always had.

But Percy?

Unlike her, Percy didn’t have any official duties aside from being a senior counselor. And yet, every god seemed to be popping out of the woodwork to ask him for help.

Whether he was at school, on the subway, or even out celebrating Grover's birthday. It didn't matter.

Quest after quest.

Hermes was a regular offender. Dead-set on sending Percy specifically to retrieve his younger children and get them to Camp.

Chiron had to draw a hard line when Pete had…visited Percy while he was using the showers at Camp (She still had contingencies ready if either of the Palikos ever dared to do something like that again).

At first she didn’t mind too much. Thinking the novelty of Percy’s status as Savior of Olympus would wear off soon enough and the gods would move onto the next shiny thing.

But when Hermes had interrupted their one month anniversary a silent fear had unwittingly buried itself deep inside the recesses of her mind. Like a needle stabbed into a ball of yarn.

Was this what their future would be like?

The two of them constantly trying to steal moments alone with each other away from pesky interfering gods?

Their stories were over…Weren’t they?

It was their time now…Right?

Wrong.

She had never been more wrong. (And she hated being wrong).

The gods would never be done with them.

She understood why. Prided herself on it even.

In making themselves necessary, in making themselves valuable, the gods would always need them.

And the conclusion of the second Great Prophecy proved that. Following much of the same pattern as the first.

So Annabeth decided that if she and Percy were going to get their happy ending, she needed to take back control once and for all.

And she did. (Did you, now?)

After they secured Percy’s recommendation letters from the gods so that he could attend NRU, it was easy work to convince Sally and Paul to sit Percy down with her and make him promise never to disappear on them again (She wouldn’t lose him again. She wouldn’t). Percy needed to focus on school. To make up for the six months that he had lost because of Queen Bitch so that the two of them could attend NRU like he had wanted. Like they dreamed of doing together.

And her plan had worked.

That is, until Lester had shown up.

She should have known the Fates would take advantage of her leaving to search for her cousin to try involving Percy in the gods’ problems once again.

And she was pissed.

Fortunately it hadn’t taken too much to convince Percy that this was Lester and Meg’s quest. Not his. (It helped that Sally and Paul didn’t want to lose their son any more than she did).

Camp can handle themselves, she had told him. Trust in them. Let the others have their time to prove themselves.

So he did.

Reluctantly.

But he did.

And for a time that was that.

Sure, the communications blackout worried her, but she was confident that Camp would be fine. If they really needed her and Percy they would know (They were fine. They needed to be fine).

They were not fine.

Learning that Jason had been killed while she and Percy had been road-tripping across the US felt as if someone had stabbed her with her own knife. (The last time she had cried herself sick like that was when she had confided in Piper after Tar- there).

Percy hadn’t spoken to her for a day. His guilt eating him alive from the inside out (Her fault. Ḯ̷̡t̴̜̑ ̴̭̊w̶̻̎ǎ̴̮s̶͚̑ ̸͐͜h̶̳̐è̴͍ṙ̷̡ ̵̼̆ḟ̴̦a̷̯̋ú̸͖l̶̢̔t̷̟̉).

They comforted each other. Assured each other. And by the end, Percy had surprised her with his declaration to write a sequel to his Greek Gods novel. This time one for the minor gods.

She had kissed his cheek and jokingly teased his six years late desire to finally follow her advice and research the Greek myths.

When Lest- Apollo had shown up and confirmed for them that the Emperors and Python had been defeated, she thought that now she and Percy could finally have their peace.

That the gods had finally realized that while she and Percy were still among the best of the best, that they didn’t need to immediately use their top-shelf products on ants anymore, and that the two of them would be left alone barring emergencies and ‘special occasions’ only.

Combined with the fact that she and Percy were now in Roman territory and that the Roman gods weren’t anywhere near as present as their Greek counterparts, she thought they were finally in the clear.

So from there on out she thought for sure that everything would finally go as she had planned out for them.

No more quests. No more gods. Just her and Percy.

They would attend NRU. Graduate with their degrees. Settle together in a home of her creation. Maybe adopt a few dogs. Have the one or two miniature versions of them that Percy wanted. And then grow old and die together, meeting forevermore in Elysium for their eternal rest.

…She should have known that it wouldn’t have been so easy.

From the moment they’d settled into New Rome it was as if the gods’ non-interference laws had suddenly been magically lifted (As if everything she’d done to keep Percy away from the gods meant nothing. As if they'd just been humoring her efforts).

If it wasn’t Hermes taking Percy on some spontaneous trip, it was Apollo casually popping by his dorm room at random with a plate of Sally’s blue cookies and offers of archery or guitar lessons. Or even to help him with his classwork (She put her foot down hard on that last one).

Ares-Mars would interrupt their training sessions and demand a spar. Venus popped in everyone once in a while, inviting Percy to have tea and cupcakes with her. 

Even Hecate had called upon Percy to pet-sit Hecuba and Gale once (She grudgingly agreed so long as she went with him in order to keep him out of trouble).

Ganymede, though, had been a surprise.

She hadn’t minded his visits at first. Having already gotten used to the teenaged god showing up on occasion when she and Percy would stop at Himbo Juice when they still lived in New York.

But after one too many date nights with the younger god appearing in place of their waiter (And not so subtly trying to proposition her oblivious boyfriend while she was sitting right in front of him), she had permanently placed him on her blacklist (Right below Hera and Hermes).

And that wasn’t even getting into his family visits to Atlantis.

Annabeth hated hearing about Atlantis.

She didn’t want to hear about how she would love the architecture (It wasn’t fair).

Or how his step-mother makes him cookies (It wasn’t fair).

Percy had grown so accustomed to the gods inserting themselves into his life that he had gotten complacent.

No longer able to see their presence slowly closing in around him for the threat that it was. (A threat to her-their future).

Percy wasn’t a god.

“How much misery can the goddess of misery take?”

Percy wasn’t a god.

“Phaedra! You paralyzed her!”

He wasn’t a godling. He wasn’t immortal.

 "You are . . . turning down our generous gift?"

And yet, all the gods seemed to treat Percy as if he belonged with them. (As if he belonged to them).

As if his choice to remain mortal and be with her was just a phase that he would eventually grow out of. (No. No. She would never allow it. Percy couldn’t leave. S̴̻͇͂h̶̖̰͉̍͛ẹ̷̀͂ ̸̧̦̮̓w̶͓͇͐͛̋o̷͍̐ṷ̵͚̓̐̕l̵̢̩̓͝ͅd̶̜̗͓͌̃̚ñ̴̹̯̪'̶̼̾̽͂t̸̛̪͊ ̵̟̿̽͝ĺ̴̯̩̹͒é̵̦̱̝̏ţ̸̲͔̀̊ ̶̰͚̟̀̿̚h̵͖͍͇̆͂i̴̬̿͆ḿ̷̪̱̼̏́).

With everything going on between her and Hermes it honestly wasn’t a surprise that more of the gods were suddenly paying more attention to them then they usually were.

And if they knew about her plans to escape with Percy to Alaska…

Well, then Janus’ interference made sense.

If they left, Olympus would end up losing two extremely valuable pawns after all. So naturally they wouldn't want her plan to succeed, and were not so subtly trying to dissuade her from following through.

But she wasn’t going to back down now. (Very well then).

Annabeth hunched over, her hands clenched knuckle-white on her knees.

One breath.

Two.

If she let Janus succeed in rattling her, allowed for his little show to shake her resolve, then she and Percy would never truly be free of their control (If the gods wanted to use her, use them, it would be on her terms. Not theirs).

Annabeth ignored the faint reverberation of a hawk's chattering screech echoing past her ears, the sound reminiscent of mocking laughter.

Breathe.

Breathe.

She couldn’t stop now (She wouldn’t).

Not when she was so close to finally getting that happily ever after sh-they deserved.

Breathe. (Again).

Breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

With a final inhale Annabeth stood up. Holding for a count of ten before exhaling out her nose.

She wasn’t going to let Janus scare her.

While his warning did weave a knot of terror in her gut, she would do as she’d always done and push forward.

“A choice is coming Annabeth Chase.”

“One that will determine your future for the remainder of your mortal existence in the world of the living.”

This wasn’t the first time in her life that the balance of Fate had hinged on her decisions.

She would make the right decision when it came down to it.

She always did (She needed to).

But first things first, Annabeth thought. Her gaze finally zeroing in on the wooden door in front of her.

Whatever this supposed choice is that I will have to make, I’m not going to be encountering it just yet, Annabeth rationalized. So any mental breakdowns over potentially life altering decisions can wait a few hours.

She had time. She had time. (Do you?)

She did.

She just needed to get through class first.

Taking one more deep breath, Annabeth pushed down on the lever of the handle and pulled open the door.

Upon entering the lecture hall, Annabeth paused to quickly scan the room for her target.

Her gaze swiftly slid down the tiered rows laid out in the shape of a modified fan. An arrangement that allowed for more optimal seating and viewing for those situated in the back of the hall. The faded gray carpeted stairs offset the equally faded eggplant cushions on the benches.

As she expected, standing at the podium at the front of the lecture hall, the SMART board already displaying the PowerPoint for the day’s lessons behind him, was Dr. Olde.

As the door closed shut with a muffled bang-click, Annabeth watched as her professor slowly lifted his head from whatever he had been sifting through to see who had entered the room.

Unsurprisingly, his expression seemed wholly unsurprised as he took in her form. Nodding his head to her in greeting as he waved her down to the front of the room.

Annabeth would never admit aloud the knot of relief that had untangled with such a simple gesture.

Maybe this wasn’t a trick after all?, she thought. Before silently berating herself for the lack of caution.

Focusing instead on the matter at hand, Annabeth swiftly made her way down the stairs while simultaneously pulling out her report from her bag. Mentally reciting all the points of her argument as well as all the possible rebuttals and counterpoints she had prepared should her Professor challenge her further. (She could do this).

In the seconds it took for her to walk from the foot of the lecture hall stairs to the podium, Annabeth took stock of her current adversary.

Much to her surprise, Dr. Olde had actually seemed to take the time today to gel back his generally loose mahogany brown curls. His pastel orange button down was completely tucked in for once. He wore a burlwood colored vest with brandy colored trim and it was covered in little cartoonish temples, statues, and scrolls. Giving him a less strict and professional air and provided the image of someone calm and laid-back. Less stressed. While Annabeth could say that he didn’t exactly look fresh and chipper, his hazel eyes didn’t have any noticeable bags under them either, though the large coffee on the podium next to him hadn’t escaped her notice.

While Dr. Olde was never unkempt by any means, his position as the Lead Archivist of New Rome coupled with his duties as a professor typically left him visibly exhausted, giving him the stress-lines of someone above his thirty-one years of age, and noticeably disheveled on some days.

This was not one of those days.

While Annabeth would have preferred to have their conversation on a day he was less rested, catching Dr. Olde on one of his more relaxed days was rare and could be equally as advantageous if she played her cards correctly.

Closing in on the last couple feet, with her target now in reaching distance, Annabeth strategically positioned herself askew to the podium, just a step from where she and her Professor would have stood side to side. Instead, her position forced the man to turn just enough away from the podium so that he wouldn’t be distracted by the papers he was preparing for class.

And ensured that she would have his full undivided attention during their conversation.

“Dr. Olde.” Annabeth addressed. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Her professor nodded.

“I figured you would come to see me sooner rather than later.” Dr. Olde exclaimed, resting his elbow on the podium as he shifted himself to face her more directly. “Now. Seeing as we don’t have all that much time before class, let’s cut right to the heart of your concerns shall we?”

Annabeth nodded.

That was the one thing she appreciated about Dr. Olde over all her other professors at NRU. He didn’t waste his time mincing words. While he was a diligent and fair teacher, willing to hear out any of his students, he respected facts and logic and didn’t waste time on flowery language.

“You disagree with how I’ve graded your report,” he stated. His expression was carefully neutral so as to not visibly relay how he felt on the subject.

“I do.” Annabeth replied firmly, resolutely locking her eyes into his.

“And why is that?” Dr. Olde questioned, a subtle edge of curiosity peaking into his tone as if he was challenging her to convince him. (She would).

“You claimed my report was insufficient.” Annabeth began, her voice as steady and unrelenting as steel.

“I’ve been studying architecture for years. I know Daedalus' Labyrinth better than anybody.”

“Insufficient. Over fifty pages of comparison and documentation deemed insufficient. Believe me when I say I have combed over every sentence, every word in an attempt to find just what you have claimed to be lacking and found none.” Annabeth proclaimed, clutching her report like a tether. “I have documented everything from that fateful Winter Solstice meeting to the direct aftermath of the Battle of Manhattan. I have every major event, and even the smaller missions between the conclusion of the Battle of the Labyrinth to the final battle of the Second Titan War, accounted for and described. For both the Greeks and the Romans.”

“That’s not enough.”

“So you tell me.” Annabeth challenged back.

“It has to be!”

“It isn’t!”

“Where exactly is it that my report is insufficient?” Annabeth all but kept herself from snarling as she closed her opening statements. Leaving her professor the opportunity to say his piece.

Dr. Olde crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the podium. An unreadable expression in his eyes.

“You are a very thorough young woman Ms. Chase. Of that, I think we can both agree isn’t in question.” Dr. Olde said. His words cautious, assessing. As if he were still determining the best course to proceed.

But Annabeth didn’t want worthless platitudes. She wanted answers.

“Then how-”

Dr. Olde held up his hand, causing her to immediately click her jaw shut in annoyance.

“You are focusing on the wrong details Ms. Chase.” Dr. Olde exclaimed, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “As I noted in my corrections as I was marking through your report, it was not the comparisons and details in your report that were necessarily insufficient, but rather your references.”

Annabeth firmly stamped down on the bubble of anger rising in her chest. Reminding herself that she had planned for this.

“How do you figure?” Annabeth demanded not unkindly. “I have countless secondary sources listed that are straight from the shelves of your own campus library. Primary sources in the form of interviews with former Praetor Reyna Ramírez-Arellano and even New Rome’s current Praetor Hazel Lev-”

“It is not your sources detailing the Roman side of the Second Titan War that are lacking.” Dr. Olde swiftly cut off. His tone equally as unrelenting as her own. “It is your references for the Greek accounts specifically that are insufficient.”

“That is impossible!” Annabeth exclaimed. “I have documented-”

“Exactly.” Dr. Olde stopped her, his gaze matching her steel for steel. “You have documented. But you did not provide any references for said documentation.”

“I am the reference.” Annabeth declared icily.

Annabeth stopped herself just short of snarling at the disappointed look her professor was giving her.

“While that may be true. The fact of the matter remains that you are the only source cited for all the information regarding the Greek side of events during the Second Titan War. And while primary sources are good to have, in using yourself as the only source of information there is the inherent issue of reporting bias and hearsay throughout much of your report which you have misrepresented as a secondary source.” Dr. Olde matter-of-factly proclaimed.

Fury roared in Annabeth’s ears.

“How dare you make me look like a fool ! How dare you make it seem like you were the only hero! That you did everything on the quest!”

No.

No way.

“A shame truly.” Dr. Olde stated, settling back against the podium. “The topic was of great interest to me. Unfortunately, as you can understand, I cannot give you full credit without the appropriate sources cited to back up your claims.”

It wasn’t possible was it?

“I did just as much as you on our quests. If not more. And I’ll make sure that you and everyone else remembers that ”

“Is that right?”

“Do the Greeks not keep records in the same way as New Rome?” Dr. Old inquired, sounding genuinely curious as to the answer, though it only made Annabeth grind her teeth further at the insinuation. “I’d imagine with the structure of a camp that documentation may be different from how we do things here, but I would have thought some kind of record keeping was being done. If informally.”

“No.” Annabeth managed to grit out. “Not in the way New Rome does it. All sitreps by the campers are provided verbally to Chiron. He then documents the situation, what he is reported, and the aftermath as a result. All records are kept in his office.”

Dr. Olde let out a hum of disapproval that caused Annabeth’s hands to curl completely into fists at her sides. She ignored the sound of her report crumpling irreparably in her palm.

“It seems you have yet to temper your pride.”

“While less than ideal, the reports were still an option you forwent. I’m assuming due to distance?” he inquired, unknowingly dragging her back from where she had been starting to lose herself in her hypotheses.

Annabeth didn’t trust herself to do anything other than nod.

“Had you come to me sooner regarding the issue I could have provided you with an extension or resources if needed to ensure that you received copies of the written reports or even the reports themselves to have for your paper. I have eagles specifically trained by the Legion to aid me in this very kind of task.” Dr. Olde scolded. “However, the fact remains that you did not. Not only that, you hadn’t even bothered to interview other potential primary sources. One of which I know you have at your immediate disposal. And yet you took no advantage of the fact.”

“I wonder how long it will take for your luck to finally run out.”

Ṭ̶̟̳̈́̀͠ḧ̸̖̣̫̎́̌͊ͅą̴̨̎̎ť̸̥̯̕ ̸̢̯̹̹̫̉́́̓d̷̠̗̭̈͝e̷̠̮̣͙̞̾s̴͚̗̅̔͝p̷̟̥͂̎̀̿̋i̸̢͙̰͍̝̓̓̊͂͠c̸͈͖̓͛ä̵̲̙͖̓ḃ̷͓͍̯̤̈́́̇͜l̷͓͕̓͒̋͊͋e̵̗̺͔͎͙͗̀́͝,̷͎̞̥̖̈͆̚͠ ̴͚̳̝͒m̸̹̳̮͑̆̈́i̵̩̘̭̜͖̾͒̏s̷͉̓e̶͙͋͝r̷̦̔͐̑̏͆a̸͚̗̟̺̣͂̏̅͋͠b̸̖̉̄̎l̵̺̦̎̄̕͝e̴̳̻͇̯̓̈,̶̣͚͈̝͊̽ ̸̼̀̄̒͘i̶̱̔̒͠n̶̤͉̊̑͐́ͅt̴͕̮̲̝̝̓̇͌ë̸̦̤́̔̓̍ͅr̴̖͐̃̎̊f̵̜̥̼͉̜̏̔ë̴͙͇̤̖́̉̔ř̷̛͈̆̉ḭ̸̦͔̃́̐͘n̸̝̹͌̌̊̒́g̶̦̱̖̃̔̇̚ ̷̺̤͙̥̉̉͝ͅs̸̞̬̝̾n̸̰̾͘ą̴̨̢̹̱͗̋̅́̉k̸̛̩̟̬̙̥̊̈́̀è̶̤̝̲̞̎!̷͈͓̻̗̻̒́͌͂

“I was involved in every prophesied quest.” Annabeth barely registered the sound of her own voice.

S̶̋̓̀ͅh̴̠̦̗́̍̀ê̴͖ ̴̬͚̋͂w̶̮̤͈̑̓̈á̵̖̗̦š̴͙̳̖ ̶̛̉̏͜g̸̯̙̯͐̚o̸͙̰͒͆͝i̶̻̤͎̓͝n̶̖̼͛͂ḡ̸̩͔̫͆͂ ̶͈̮͑ṱ̷̤̉ͅo̷͇̐͆̄ ̷̨̙͌̐̕s̸̗̈́͌k̸̡̛̠͆i̵̞͕̐n̶̢͇̭̂ ̶͈͓̍͒h̶͉̞͑̿̓ḭ̵̬͆m̴̻̱̦̌͑̀ ̴̘͂ḁ̷̡̖̎l̸͚͘i̷̧͉̚͝v̸̫́͆e̸̥͌̈ ̴͕̙̑̃͠a̶̡͗͛̕͜ñ̴̛̻͎͝d̸̨̳̖̂ ̷̨̧̔͂̋ṭ̸̇͊͒u̶̡̡͔͊̚r̸̞͉͈̄͋̀ņ̵͗͑ ̵̣͉͇̏̏͒h̸̠̥̹̽̎͑i̶̲̎̔m̶̧̛̭̠̐̀ ̸̞̫͆͋i̷̥̓͘͠ń̷͉̉͠t̴͉̤͌̽ò̷̪̪͓ ̵̛͎̙͛͛a̵͖̟̖͆̆ ̶̮̃̓p̸̙͈̈́͑̋ả̴̬͐i̸̳̇ř̶̼̖̉ͅ ̸̝̳͎̈̚͘o̷̰̔̉̀f̵͖̺̲̉͘ ̵̗͖̪͘b̵̤͛̽ö̵̞͇́̑͝ȯ̶̘͛̇t̷̖̎͐s̴̩̊̐͘ ̶̰̒̕͠a̵̢͆́ṅ̶̪͕̞́̒d̸̦́̒ ̴̧̌͛͌r̵͙̙̂ű̶̳͓͛̓b̷͖͉̘͒͠ ̸̖̹͖̅t̶̢̝̭̓ḣ̷͙e̵̛͙͠m̵͙͖̓ ̵͎͎͍͂̔̈́i̸̻͑̎n̸̛̩͚͒t̶̛͕̱͗̈ͅo̷̧͇͖͑ ̶̨̭̄͑ț̶͍̔̀͘h̶̫̽͝e̵̗̿͗ͅ ̸̲͔͔̀͠͠d̷͍̖̽í̶̞͂͊r̶̞̿͝t̶̖̠͕͌͝ ̸̘̰̅̎̚a̷̢̲͛̈͊ņ̴̯̈́̍d̵̗͔̋͊ ̵̡̜͛̓m̵̮͊̈ư̸͙͖̱d̴͔̼̝̐ ̶̼͈̼̊̽̅o̷̧̓f̷͖͍̔̎͝ ̷̗͍̹̾t̴̬͖̫̆̚h̵̯͙̋̀ẹ̷͈̝͌ ̴͙̆r̷͕͚̾ò̶̹̘͝a̷͚̣͆̎ͅd̸͓͊̿͜s̸̻͠ ̵̥̣͐̐h̴̼̏́͂ͅȅ̴̤͉̘̃̓ ̶̯͘r̶̭̗̩̽͝e̴̘̰̐̑̑p̷̭̠̼͗̕r̴̙̔̀̀e̴͈̳̮̊̚s̵̲̎̓̆e̵̟͔̘͗̓̽n̶̙̩͐t̵͖́̊̈́ë̷̢̯́̏d̶̛̘́.̶̰̅̚

“I led my Cabin in the Battle of the Labyrinth. I fought in the Battle of Manhattan.”

P̴̣͈̦̊̆e̶̟̔ͅr̶̙͗c̴̢̫̥͂̒ỷ̴̪͌̇͜ ̷̭̖̻̅̐͛ŏ̷̯̯ͅw̵̳̫̓̾̐e̵͚̽̇̕d̵̺͎̎̅ ̴̳͚̘͝h̷̘́͛ê̵̗͕̕r̸̝̈͝ ̶̼͐h̸̢̨͉͛͐ḯ̷̤̠̀s̵̛͎͓͗̈ ̷̞̺͊͊̆l̶̮̲͚̒ị̷̾́͊f̵̧̋̑̂e̴̟̭̤͒͘.̵̜͍̼̎̿

“I was in the throne room of the Olympians when Luke Castellan sacrificed his life to scatter the Titan King’s essence.”

Ś̸̛͉̗͚h̷̼̼̪̾ȅ̵͚͇̯ ̴͎̭̘̿̍̀w̶͔͋͋̕a̴̩͋̑͠s̶̢̲̋̏ ̸̥̤̹̄̒t̷͈̬͕͆̾̚h̷̢͋̃̓ę̸͉̎̕͝ ̸̼̓t̴̫̰̮̒r̴̳͛̓̈́u̸̹͂̑ē̸̙ ̵͖̮͌S̸̪͓̓̈́a̷͙̱͍̽̏v̷̢̲̱̄̏͝i̵̡̓̾o̷̢͖̓̇r̵̯͉͎͝ ̷̽̈́ͅo̵̡̩̐̀̕f̶̛̖̔̌ͅ ̸̥̘̓̃O̷̙͕̯͆l̶̢͔̆̈͘y̴̼̩̹͗m̷̟̽͌͝p̸̦͋́̎u̸͚͘̕͜s̵͖̝̮̅̒!̵̨͍͐̔

“I attended the awards ceremony of the gods and directly aided in Camp half-Blood’s restoration efforts”

S̷͓͔͊͠ͅḧ̶̹̰̣́e̵̻͝ ̸̤͕̫̅̈́͌r̵̡̫̱̐̚ȅ̶̻͌͐͜b̶͓̏̉̌ǔ̷̳̫̽̊î̶͕̤͂̑l̴͉͛̊̊t̴̰̓̃͝ ̵̠̭̮͂̑Ọ̵͋͝͝l̸͉̘̦̋͊̾ỳ̸͕̣̉̕͜m̸͓͉̃͛͗p̶̡̥̳̒̈́̒u̸͚̪̹͂s̵͋͌͜͝!̵͚̜̟̊̐

“Are my accounts, are my experiences, lesser just because they are not Percy Jackson’s?”

“But I’ve heard all about you, Percy Jackson. Oh, yes, the young man who saved Olympus. And his faithful sidekick, Annabeth Chase.” 

S̸̺̣̈́̈́̔ḥ̴͖̾̎ẹ̸̝̆̆ ̴̣̕ŵ̶̝ä̷̘̌s̶͑ͅ ̶̟̔̂n̷̲̣͔̑̈́ǒ̴̩͗̋b̸̫̻̋͆̆ȯ̵̮͋d̵̪̀̒̉y̸̲̓̀'̶̞̹͛ś̵̰͙͐ ̶̙̫̆͝s̶̈͝ͅi̵̧̼͚̎̅̊d̷͈̱̄̍ͅè̸̹̮̣̐k̶̬̼͕͊i̵̢̙̅ĉ̴̮̪͛k̴͇̰͒.̵̛̠̖͎

“You have the gift of sensing the truth in all historical accounts you see, hear, and read, do you not?” Annabeth growled out. Long since discarded any pretense of civil kindness. “Even if I am the only source of information, surely you can sense that none of my accounts are false?”

Dr. Olde merely looked at her as if he were appraising some wild beast, his body tense and arms at his sides as if he were preparing himself to attack or defend at any moment’s notice.

“I do not enjoy repeating myself Ms. Chase.” he declared, his tone even yet stern, with a calmness that betrayed his ingrained training.

Annabeth wondered if his voice would still be so calm if she cut off his airway.

Dr. Olde narrowed his eyes at her as if he’d just read her mind.

“While not strictly false, you are only one piece of the puzzle. One perspective. One set of experiences speaking for the whole. That inherently comes with biases that pings my senses as incomplete or off.” Dr. Olde lectured harshly. “While it is true you’ve been involved in many important events, unless you are secretly a god and are able to divide yourself near infinitely, you could not have feasibly been a part of every battle. Fought in every skirmish of the war. Participated in every quest. Every mission. Attended every war council meeting. And so forth and so on. While you may have had those events reported to you, that does not automatically make you a reliable nor a credible secondary source.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Annabeth snarled. (Oh, you know you are~).

“BE QUIET!”

“Ms. Chase-”

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK!”

“Ms-”

“YOU ARE THE LITERAL GOD OF LYING SNAKES!”

“ANNABETH!”

“WHAT?!”

“I didn’t say anything.” Dr. Olde proclaimed. The harshness in his eyes had dissipated into one of concern and confusion.

Annabeth caught the furious screech in her throat before it could completely form.

Don’t look at me like that, she thought. Her mind toeing the edge of desperation and something else that she refused to admit aloud. Don’t look at me like I’m crazy. I’m not crazy!

“I’m not crazy.”

Dr. Olde looked like he’d just aged twenty years in the span of minutes. “I never said that you were.”

“You were thinking it.”

“I was thinking of the cruelties of the gods.” he corrected softly.

He started to lift one of his hands, as if to place it on her shoulder before thinking better of it. Wringing his hands together in front of him instead as he looked upon her with an annoyingly pitious gaze.

Fine, she sneered. She didn’t want him to touch her anyway. She didn’t need his pity.

“So Hermes did have something to do with this, then.” Annabeth grit out. Ignoring the biting pain in her palms.

Dr. Olde immediately shook his head. “The gods are not to blame for every choice that we make. You’re report…Lord Mercury had nothing-”

Bang-click.

Annabeth very nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound. Her body already on a hair-trigger.

Swiveling her head around, Annabeth saw her classmates slowly starting to pour into the room and claim their seats.

“Ms. Chase-”

“I can see that we’re done here.” Annabeth clipped. Not even bothering to turn her gaze back to her professor before moving to find her own seat.

“Thank you for your time.”

Chapter Text

“Thank you for your time.”

The lie sounded hollow even to her own ears.

She wasn’t fleeing (She wasn’t).

She was retreating to regather herself. Regroup. Reassess. And devise a countermeasure.

That’s what she needed to do right now. (Whatever you need to tell yourself).

She knew that.

She knew that. So then why…

Why did everything feel so numb?

Why did every step feel as though it was someone else steering her body?

Like she was looking at the world through an opaque window. An outsider looking in.

Annabeth felt nothing as she brushed past her peers.

The sounds, the colors, everything was muffled. As if her ears had been stuffed with cotton.

As Annabeth slid into her seat, she wondered if this was what it felt like to be possessed by an Eidolon.

“Welc-eryone-pl-take-our-ats”

Her professor’s voice reverberated as if she were hearing the words secondhand.

“The gods are not to blame for every choice that we make.”

Except that wasn’t true now was it?

At least not for her.

Not right now.

“-ope that-ou all-ad a-ood-eak”

Right now she was just a pawn in a much larger game.

One that she had fooled herself into thinking that she could play alone. (As such is hubris).

“Today we-re-ing to do-thing a-tle diff-”

It never ended well for the mortals who challenged the Gods.

She knew that.

And yet she had let the past victories blind her into thinking she could succeed once again. (Whose victories?).

“The purpo-of this cla-is to discu-modern events-nd how-hey-ave shaped how we-ive today.”

If she was going to continue participating in the Gods’ games, then she needed to change tactics.

“As such, I ha-prepar-a special lecture for tod-”

Hermes had isolated her, yes.

But only from the mortal end of the equation.

If the gods wanted to be involved, then maybe it was high time for her to even the playing field a bit.

To use them like they used her.

“Pleas-welcome special gue-lecturers, Claud-Locke an-Janice Durward”

A sudden roaring applause jolted Annabeth back to reality.

As if the opaque window had been unceremoniously smashed, Annabeth was suddenly overwhelmed by a cacophony of sounds and lights.

With the sudden thunderous noise, Annabeth only just kept herself from leaping into a crouch onto her seat. Her right hand was grasping her pencil as if it were her celestial bronze knife.

What happened? What was going on? What did she miss?

Annabeth winced as her eyes adjusted to the light of the room, her heart pounding in time with the applause.

Breathe, she told herself. Breathe. What do you see?

Students. Some standing. Most sitting.

They were facing the entryway.

No.

Their bodies were shifting with their gazes.

Someone new had entered.

They were clapping for someone walking down the stairs.

Two someones, Annabeth corrected herself as she finally tracked the two new heads above her elated peers.

One girl, perhaps thirteen or fourteen years old, had wavy brown hair, brown eyes, a more prominent nose, and was waving awkwardly to the crowd. Her face beat red in contrast to her fairer skin tone.

Unlike her, the other girl next to her looked to be maybe a year or so older and held a confidence that came from experience to match. Her skin was a smooth brown tone and her tight cornrows were tied into a ponytail behind her head. Both were wearing the purple Camp Jupiter t-shirt.

By the time both girls had reached the podium the applause had thankfully died down. The crowd returned to their seats.

“Thank you all.” Dr. Olde addressed, “For those of you who may not be aware, Claudia and Janice are currently legionnaires of the Fourth Cohort. Both of them played an integral role in one of the many significant historical events that have taken place in the last several years. Specifically the return of Rome’s stolen ancile.”

With the remainder of her sudden adrenaline rush finally dissipating, Annabeth leaned back more comfortably in her seat.

The ancile, Annabeth mused as she twirled her pencil between her fingers. She remembered overhearing some of her classmates talking about that in the library when she had been writing her comparisons report (Ị̴͓̟̓t̷͓͔́ ̸̝͒͋̿ẃ̵̞̅ā̸̠s̴̉̒̀͜n̷̝̬̅͒̋'̵̥̭́̕t̶̺͙͌ ̶̹͍̅ì̸̢̟̹̉n̵̬̔̕s̵̻̞̺͠ư̶̠̈́f̴̞̌f̶̱͐i̴̡̱̔̇̓c̶̩̟̓͝ị̴͐e̵͓͚̕n̵̺͌́t̸͈͊!̷̱̋̒).

Apparently the ancile was Camp Jupiter’s equivalent of Thalia’s Pine Tree. Only unlike Thalia’s Tree, if the ancile was destroyed then Rome would apparently cease to exist completely. And with it, so would all of the Roman mythological creatures and even some of the minor Roman deities.

Now that was a terrifying kill-switch to have.

“The two of them have graciously agreed to partake in today’s lesson and answer questions regarding the event.” Dr. Olde detailed.

The zing of excitement that had zipped through her at the reveal stunned Annabeth briefly. Having been on edge for so long the more pleasant sensation was almost foreign in its nature.

Refusing to let the moment be ruined, Annabeth immediately started sifting through her brain for the questions she had mentally filed away back from when she had first heard of the event. Having been too busy at the time with her report to look more into it (S̸̔ͅh̵̓ͅè̸͕ ̶͍͝w̷̝͝a̴̲͂s̵̹̄ ̵͇͌g̴̦̕o̵͠ͅô̶̱d̶̨̍ ̶̮̀e̵͇͛n̵̢̒ő̶̥ȕ̷͚g̸̳͠h̵̬͝!̵̹͆ ̵̣̑S̸̯̈́ĥ̸̜e̵̹͘ ̵̝͊ẁ̸͍a̸͓͋s̵̰̐!̷̼͒). But now was the perfect opportunity to gain more information straight from the source! (The perfect distraction).

Reaching into her bag, Annabeth pulled out her notebook with every intent of documenting the answers to each and every one of her questions.

The notebook itself was completely custom made. A joint gift from Percy, Grover, and Rachel for her last birthday before they left for NRU.

Everything from the cover to its very pages, was made from the wood of the fallen branches of Thalia’s Pine Tree, all bound together by spiral coils of celestial bronze. Similarly, the ruling on the pages was also inked in the glittering metal and contained a clear coat of magical paint that allowed her to change the color of the page where she touched with a thought. Enabling her to highlight her notes without the cumbersome use of markers.

The cover, painted by Rachel (of course), was a soft gray color adorned with large cartoonish lemons, and three different shades of green swirls scattered across the page. Forest green for Grover, a bright green for Rachel, and sea-green for Percy.

For protection. Percy had said.

He knew she could protect herself, but of course Percy being the thoughtful loveable idiot he was knew that what she was most worried about was her notes getting destroyed by a random monster or mishap.

Sure, New Rome was within the borders of Camp Jupiter, but she still had the trek between Berkeley and NRU to contend with.

The notebook had been one of the few things she hadn’t needed to worry about throughout the entire mess with Hermes.

Annabeth couldn’t help but run her hands along the cover, a swell of affection rising in her chest.

Without realizing it Annabeth had also reached up and started rolling the red coral pendant Percy had given her on their two-month anniversary between her fingers.

Seaweed Brain, Annabeth thought tenderly. The tense coils in her lungs slowly starting to unravel for the first time in hours.

With a deep exhale Annabeth recentered herself.

She knew she was slipping under. That her sanity was likely on a razor’s edge by this point. (Indeed).

But she wouldn’t break. She refused to break.

I am Annabeth Chase. The daughter of Athena. Architect of Olympus. Member of the Seven and one of the Saviors of Olympus, she thought resolutely. My mind is my own. It is as durable as steel, yet pliable as willow. I will not break!

Annabeth imagined a filing cabinet. Sorting each and everyone of the series of unfortunate events that she’d experienced in the last two weeks into their own separate folders, color coded and labelled.

Before she slammed the cabinet shut and locked it behind her, Annabeth pulled out a grey and sea-green swirled file labeled ‘For the Future’.

Memories of her and Percy flooded Annabeth’s mind.

Memories of Capture the Flag and drool. Of illegal zoo trucks and tunnels of love. Of chariot races, dances, and grey-streaked hair. Of firework dates to stolen underwater kisses and a night in Paris. Their promise to Bob, a horrific duet, and carrying literal torches side by side.

Together.

Together they could do anything. (She wasn’t alone. She didn’t need to do everything alone).

She was the brain and he the heart.

Now she just needed to get her heart back.

And she would.

But for now, Annabeth put the folder back and locked everything away.

Coming back to reality, Annabeth opened her notebook to a fresh page and compulsively started clearing her desk space of all the distractions she could.

As she grabbed her report to stuff it into the bottom of her bag like the failed trash it was, Annabeth paused briefly to examine the red spots scattered in a line across the pages.

Blood stains. They were blood stains.

Annabeth’s gaze slid from the previously immaculate sheets to the dried flaky crescents on her palms.

A spark of annoyance flickered before she unceremoniously jammed the papers into her bag. The cuts weren’t deep. She’d deal with them later.

Having finally organized herself, Annabeth looked up to see that Dr. Olde had pulled out a collapsible table and chairs for the two legionnaires to sit.

Good, she thought. I haven’t missed anything.

“Alright class.” Dr. Olde began. “Thank you for your patience. We will now begin our Q&A.”

“Professor?”

Annabeth resisted the urge to groan at the familiar annoying cadence.

“Yes Mr. Saber, what is it?” Dr. Olde inquired, a not-quite frown etched on his face.

Annabeth could relate. Though she silently applauded the professor for not letting the exasperation he was likely feeling show in his expression.

“I don’t mean to question your teaching choices, professor. But aren’t you wasting an invaluable opportunity to have someone who’s lived through the Greek version of the Second Titanomachy partake in this Q&A?” the young man asked, not even bothering to try to hide the condescension in his more cavalier tone.

Doing her best to quickly finish stitching back together the patchwork mess that was her shredded mask of indifference, Annabeth (like the rest of the class) turned her attention to the speaker.

Aurelius Saber.

The twenty-two year old son of the godling scoundrel Chrysaor. Former Fifth Cohort Centurion.

And Caleb Darling’s best friend.

As usual his gold dyed hair drew her eyes in first as it shimmered in varying metallic-like hues in the overhead lighting. The color intentionally reminiscent of the imperial gold his father prided himself on.

The golden double chain earring in his left ear glinted just as brightly, with little pearls adorned at the connecting holes, and a small golden sword dangly earring at the lobe. His almond shaped eyes, bored and half-lidded, were highlighted by a golden brown glitter eyeshadow that contrasted annoyingly well with his hair and his lighter caramel skin tone.

In contrast to his overdone and gaudy appearance, Saber was the picture of aloof and disinterested. Looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else than sitting here in class. His head propped up against his palm as he awaited their professor’s response to his query.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at the demigodling, trying to parse through exactly what the older boy was plotting this time.

To make the understatement of the century, the two of them were not friends.

The former centurion was just as arrogant, uncouth, and self-obsessed as his father. Thinking himself above all those he’d deemed lesser than him.

The two of them clashed nearly as much as she and Darling did. Though, whereas she and Darling were pointed spears and choppy waves, she and Saber were more akin to gasoline and matches.

Darling might be the bane of her existence, but Saber had made himself her nemesis. The older boy constantly, with intention, pushed every single one of her buttons and was always trying to bait her into some kind of conflict with him.

How Percy could tolerate being around him for any length of time was beyond even her scope of comprehension (Especially with who his father was).

And yet somehow, much to her annoyance, he and Saber (Or Aurie as Percy so affectionately called him. Only he and Darling could get away with calling the other boy that) were regular sparring partners. With Saber even taking Percy with him and Darling to visit his family’s marina.

She’d tried in the past to explain to Percy that he needed better friends, ones that weren’t so toxic and intentionally trying to come between them, but Percy always countered her arguments by throwing Hana and Dave in her face. Reminding her that they didn’t like him either, but that she didn’t see him telling her that she couldn’t hang out with them. Even being so bold as to say that she could grow to like some of his NRU friends like she did Rachel despite not liking her at first either.

She hated it when he actually tried to use some semblance of logic against her.

Regardless, the topic always left them at an impasse.

It didn’t help that she had to endure occupying the same class with them without Percy around to act as a buffer between them.

Which brings her back to her current problem.

For Saber to make such an overt query to their professor in front of the entire class, Annabeth knew that whatever scheme he was cooking up was just another one of the older boy’s attempts to bait her somehow.

Whether or not he was just trying to embarrass her in front of all their peers by placing her and, by extension, their professor on the spot, or if he had something more nefarious in mind, was still left to be seen.

Evidently Darling seemed to be equally as suspicious as her. Annabeth saw him not so subtly elbowing Saber from where he was seated next to him, proceeding to give his friend a rather impressive eyebrow that he usually only reserved for her when the other boy had finally deigned to acknowledge him.

However, instead of giving Darling any indication of his thoughts, Saber instead merely shifted his gaze to her. His hair rippled like waves of gold in the light as a few strands fell over his face.

Personally Annabeth thought he looked more like a cheap walking advertisement for Cabin Seven than a demigodling, and she never understood his popularity with the retired legionnaires at NRU.

Brushing the strands out of his face, Saber’s watered-down sea-green eyes zeroed in on her stormy grey.

Annabeth wasn’t sure what the son of the pirate bastard was looking for as they appraised each other.

But she knew when he found it.

Saber’s bored expression contorted into a malicious smirk. His eyes glinting in sadistic amusement.

As if he knew something that she didn’t.

Annabeth felt a shiver crawl up her spine at the sight. Though she didn’t let her reaction show on her face.

For just a moment, Annabeth couldn’t help but imagine those same twisted features on someone else.

“The Gray-Eyed One did this to me”

“Turned me from a beautiful woman into this.”

“She is my enemy’s daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust.”

If she could look upon Medusa’s face. Annabeth had no doubt she and Saber would be near mirrors of one another.

Suddenly, a loud clap echoed throughout the lecture hall. Immediately, everyone’s attention snapped to the front of the room.

Dr. Olde’s dour expression pierced through each and every one of them, causing even the more lackadaisical students to wince as he lowered his hands.

“While I can appreciate healthy curiosity and taking an interest in your education, I will have to decline your suggestion for now.” Dr. Olde exclaimed, redirecting his piercing gaze toward Saber specifically. “Today’s history lesson will be centered around recent events such as the ancile. Topics such as the Second Titanomachy will sadly have to wait for another day.”

“But wouldn’t you consider the Second Titanomachy recent events?” Saber questioned with a false innocence belaying whatever his true nefarious intent was. “While I think we can all agree that the recovery of Rome’s ancile is imperative and certainly a topic we’d all like to know more about, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we are all just as curious about the Greek half of the Second Titanomachy, and I see no reason why we can’t have two different Q&As running at the same time. And so I implore you to reconsider your stance.”

Annabeth felt her eye violently twitch.

“Mr. Saber-”

“If I may, Dr. Olde?”

The entire room, Annabeth included, zeroed in on the younger legionnaire.

“Janice and I don’t mind sharing the floor.” Claudia exclaimed, looking slightly nervous with everyone’s attention back on her. “I’m actually a big fan of the seven and I…personally wouldn’t mind knowing more about the Greek Camp and their quests either.”

Annabeth could see the shift in Dr. Olde’s jaw where he was likely clenching his teeth at his plans being derailed so quickly.

A sentiment Annabeth understood annoyingly well (Especially as of late).

Annabeth watched as Dr. Olde pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an exasperated exhale.

Was it just her imagination, or had his hair shifted a bit? (As if there was some kind of breeze blowing past it).

When he removed his hand and opened his eyes once more, Dr. Olde looked resigned. Though there was also a spark of…something else that Annabeth couldn’t quite name.

Intrigue, maybe?

Though it vanished just as quick as it came.

“Very well.” Dr. Olde groused.

The hair on the back of Annabeth’s neck stood up.

“So long as Ms. Chase agrees, then we can have a Q&A on both topics running simultaneously.” Dr. Olde exclaimed.

The entire class swiveled their heads like a bunch of owls to face her. Waiting. Staring.

As if she were some caged circus monkey they were waiting to see juggle and dance.

She wanted to say no.

She wanted to throw her pencil into Saber’s eye.

Trap, her mind screamed. There’s no way that this wasn’t a trap.

And even if it wasn’t, the entire situation was far too good of an opportunity for Hermes to pass up.

She wasn’t going to fall for the same trick twice.

“While I appreciate-”

“Come on, Chase. You’re really going to let an opportunity to talk all about yourself go to waste?” Saber derided. “Honestly, I thought you’d thank me.”

Annabeth had to remind herself that in New Rome murder constituted similarly equal consequences. Including expulsion.

“With those criteria in mind, then I must insist that you join me.” Annabeth sneered. “As a former Centurion who participated in the Siege of Mount Othrys you must have some equally insightful advice to impart to everyone.”

“And take away your spotlight? Perish the thought!” Saber exclaimed with a mocking gasp. “Besides, the Siege of Mount Othrys is already well documented and everyone here already knows how good I am with a sword.”

Annabeth duly ignored the blatant eyebrow waggle at his crude double entendre.

“Now that is quite en-”

“While normally I’d be more than happy to answer any questions about how the Greeks endured years of plots and battles against the Titan King, it would be disrespectful to the two legionnaires who were brought here to discuss their own feats and accomplishments.” Annabeth fired right back.

“Do you even hear yourself when you talk?” Saber questioned, a small scoff echoing throughout the room.

“How can I?” Annabeth retorted. “Your outfit is so loud it drowns everything else out.”

Saber’s eyes sharpened like a blade.

“Mr. Saber, Ms. Chase-”

“At least I’m not pretending to be something that I’m not.” Saber sneered, his words slicing through her as he aimed for her vitals.

“How did that saying go again? Oh, that’s right.” he gibed. “The ones who shout the loudest have the most to hide.”

Annabeth’s grip on her pencil tightened. (Hook ~).

“So tell us, Annabeth Chase.” Saber jabbed. “What is it that you’re trying to hide?”

A snap echoed throughout the hall as Annabeth’s pencil broke in her palm. (Line ~).

“I don’t have anything to hide.” Annabeth declared. Glaring at the Apollo-wannabe with such heat that even the Sun Chariot would burst into flames.

“Then prove it.” Saber challenged. That same sadistic smirk adorning his face once more.

“I will.” Annabeth growled out, immediately pushing herself to her feet.

(And sinker ~)

“ENOUGH!”

The entire class jolted, turning wide-eyed and speechless to where their usually even-toned professor stood.

Never before had he ever raised his voice in such a way to them.

“This behavior is absolutely unbecoming of all of you.” Dr. Olde chastised. “This is not some elementary school playground. You are all young adults. Veterans. Whether or not you are active military combatants you are still expected to uphold the honor and values of your upbringing and service.”

Annabeth fought the embarrassed flush that was creeping across her skin. Silently cursing Saber all the while.

“So if everyone here is quite finished with their…dick-waving contest, we will be moving onto the actual reason we are all convened here today.” Dr. Olde scowled.

While the silence primarily reigned, Annabeth’s ears picked up on a few muffled snickers.

Whoever those poor souls were who had the actual gall to snicker at their professor’s words were either the bravest or the most foolish bastards in the room…Probably both.

“Now,” Dr. Olde continued. “I will not go back on my word. Ms. Chase, if you still wish to participate, peer pressure aside, then you may do so. If not, then please take your seat.”

Annabeth felt a bit of relief and appreciation for the glare that her professor was currently giving the gold-wannabe bastard.

So she did in fact sit down.

At the Q&A table.

“Very well then.” Dr. Olde exclaimed, sounding very much like he was regretting his life’s choices at the moment before his eyes took on a much more serious glint. “The next person who interrupts the lesson will be joining Mr. Saber and Ms. Chase with me after class.”

Annabeth balked at the declaration.

What?! she thought, disbelieving of her professor’s words. She wasn’t even the one who started it!

“Now that we have wasted enough time, we shall begin with the questions. I should not need to remind you all to be respectful in your queries.” Dr. Olde proclaimed none too harshly before he gestured to the two girls next to her. “Ms. Locke and Ms. Durward will start things off.”

“Uh, sure. Thank you Dr. Olde.” Claudia addressed, sounding a little uncertain. “So, uh, who would like to go first?”

Annabeth almost felt sorry for the two girls. They looked completely out of their depth with everything going on.

“How about…” Janice trailed off. Her wide set eyes almost seemed to be looking in two separate directions.

After a solid minute of awkward silence while Janice struggled to decide who should go first, Claudia gently tapped the girl on her shoulder, giving her friend an indulgent smile.

“Oh! Sorry, everyone! Daughter of Janus and all that. Sometimes choosing can be difficult!” Janice laughed.

The sound reverberated up Annabeth’s spine as if someone were playing xylophone with her vertebrae.

Janus.

She was sitting next to a daughter of Janus.

Annabeth went stiff as a board as she glanced at the demigod next to her out of the side of her eye (or lens she supposed).

Was she in cahoots with her father?

Or was this just another mind game by the Trickster?

“You! The woman in the fourth row with auburn hair.” Janice finally decided.

Gwen, Annabeth realized, desperately trying to distract herself from her spiralling thoughts. The former Fifth Cohort Centurion that retired after dying and resurrecting thanks to the Doors.

“Hi! Yes. My question, I guess, is for you or Claudia I suppose.” Gwen stated. “Is it true that you really captured the thief using bottled scents from Bombilo’s cafe?”

Both Claudia and Janice laughed.

“It was Claudia’s idea.” Janice giggled. “She’s good with traps.”

Claudia blushed. “I had hoped the bottles would be able to help block Mimi’s…unfortunate natural odor. And they did!”

Annabeth hummed. Certainly not the weirdest plan she’d ever heard of.

“I have a question for Annabeth.”

Annabeth’s gaze snapped to the third row. The seat almost directly behind hers, with Hank’s hand slightly raised.

“Yes?” Annabeth addressed, the muscles in her body still tightly coiled in anticipation.

“You said earlier that the Second Titanomachy for the Greeks lasted years. We know of the Battle of Manhattan as you call it, but when did the war for you first begin? After all, you couldn’t have been fighting the entire time, right?” Hank inquired, sounding like he was trying very hard to keep the skepticism out of his tone.

If Annabeth recalled correctly (which she almost always did), he and Larry (who unsurprisingly was sitting right next to him) were two of the Centurions who had originally supported Octavian back during the War with Gaia. At least politically anyway. Supposedly they’d gotten over most of their prejudices against the Fifth Cohort. At least that’s what Percy claimed since Larry apparently wanted to be a pirate for whatever reason and was friends with Saber of all people, making him a part of the friend group that Percy hung out with on campus.

“If we're being technical the Second Titanomachy first began whenever Luke Castellan started receiving dreams from the Titan King.” Annabeth began, her voice going into ‘lecture mode’ as Percy called it. “But to make things easier to pinpoint, it’s much simpler to say that the war itself started during the Winter Solstice of 2005 when the Masterbolt and Helm of Darkness were stolen.”

Annabeth could help but peer at her professor out of the corner of her eye. A smug satisfaction blooming at the sight of his rapt interest, as if he was soaking in every detail and scrap of information he could.

Annabeth fought the urge to smirk. She would show the Legacy of Clio just what he had thrown away in dismissing her report so unjustly.

“While it’s true the war was not a constant string of battles or skirmishes until after the Queen of the Underworld had issued a quest in the winter of 2008; Arguably that is what made the war so dangerous. As it was not a war of brute force, but rather a war of attrition. The Titan King over several years chipped away at our defenses, our resources, our personnel. He poisoned loyalties and planted spies. While the culmination of his multifaceted plans usually correlated with prophesied quests, we still had to deal with the effects of them until the quests were issued and in many cases, completed.” Annabeth detailed.

As Hank opened his mouth to ask yet another question, he was stopped by Dr. Olde. “While I can understand your curiosity, we must be fair to our other ladies here as well.”

Taking that as her cue, Claudia pointed to who Annabeth vaguely recalled was a son of Vulcan.

“Hi, uh. I don’t really have a question, but uh. I just wanted to say thank you for getting Mamurius Veturius’ name added to the Memorial Wall” he said. “My siblings and I had been trying for centuries.”

“A poor choice on the Legion’s part.” Janice stated matter-of-factly as she nodded in agreement with herself.

Annabeth was slightly surprised with how open the other girl was in opposing the Legion’s choices.

Though maybe she shouldn’t be with who her father is.

Maybe the girl wasn’t part of some nefarious plot against her after all.

“Blaise was a big part of that too.” Claudia stated.

Was it just her, or did Claudia seem to be blushing a bit?

The older boy nodded. “Still. My siblings and I are rarely ones for the spotlight. It’s appreciated to see one getting the recognition they deserve.”

Claudia nodded, looking for all the world like she wanted to ground to open up and swallow her whole, before glancing over to her.

Annabeth nodded and turned her attention back to the crowd. Unsurprisingly, numerous hands shot up.

Annabeth’s eyes landed on one in particular.

Indecision warred within her as she debated how wise such a pick would be.

But Annabeth was no coward.

Steeling her spine, Annabeth pointed to Naia Aukia. The twenty-one year old daughter of Delphinus and another one of Percy’s new college friends.

While Annabeth wouldn’t go so far as to say they were friends, more like acquaintances, the older girl was one of the few of Percy’s NRU friends whom she could tolerate being around.

While Naia had made it known that she didn’t approve of her relationship with Percy, she was still civil enough and stated that so long as Percy was happy and Annabeth never judo threw him in her presence, that they didn’t need to be at each other’s throats as Percy was allowed to make his own choices in life. Something Annabeth appreciated. Even if she suspected that Naia was reporting back to her father about Percy’s time and experience at NRU.

Annabeth wondered if she would try to use the Q&A to fish for information on what happened with Percy.

Despite Annabeth’s tension, Naia looked completely at ease. Her long chocolate brown hair braided off to the side and her v-neck white t-shirt highlighting her surfer’s tan and the traditional Kākau uhi tattoos that ran above her clavicle like a necklace. The tattoo was made up of repetitive geometric designs and included her family's ʻAumakua, the dolphin.

“How did Luke Castellan steal the Masterbolt and the Helm in the first place?” Naia inquired, genuine curiosity weaved within her words. Something that eased a knot within Annabeth’s shoulders.

“Some of the year-round campers were given the opportunity to visit Olympus during the Winter Solstice as a field trip of sorts. Luke Castellan, a son of Hermes, was among them. The Titan King had been whispering in his ear and haunting his dreams for some time by that point. He convinced Luke to steal the Masterbolt and Helm and bring them to him.” Annabeth explained, trying hard not to let the long buried bitterness, anger, and guilt resurface.

“Yes,” Naia said. “But, how did he steal them? Gods always keep their symbol of power close to them, correct? Greek son of Mercury or not, there is no way he should have been able to steal them without some kind of additional assistance. Magical, godly or otherwise.” Naia questioned, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Yeah.” another voice joined in.

Annabeth’s eyes snapped to Larry.

“You’d have to be invisible in order to get past the gods like that.” Larry hummed. Annabeth’s hackles rose at the emphasis the other boy placed on the word invisible. “Something that would allow the thief to go unnoticed or seem unimportant to the Olympians. Did Castellan have access to anything like that?”

“I promise I’ll give it back to you” Luke swore. “I just want to look around Olympus without Chiron playing babysitter and the gods keeping us penned in areas they choose. I’ll even tell you about any Temples I see.”

Annabeth didn’t like the sharp look in the son of Mercury’s eyes as they bore into her. Like a hawk staring down its prey.

It reminded her too much of-

No. No. It was just a coincidence. An unfortunate wording choice. That was it.

But as Annabeth was about to respond how Luke’s theft was pulled off due to the Titan King, a cacophony of voices sounded at once around her.

“Wasn’t it the Titan King who helped him though?”

(He did).

“Don’t you have a cap of invisibility?”

(She did but).

“Better yet, did nobody do a head count after you left? How did nobody notice that Castellan wasn’t with your group anymore?”

(They did).

“You were a year round camper, right? You were friends? Why didn’t you notice that Castellan was missing?”

(She had).

“What took you so long?! Chiron was getting suspicious!” Annabeth hissed as she slid next to Luke who had just joined the dinner line to present the burnt offerings to the gods.

“Sorry. Olympus was on lockdown so it was hard to get out without being noticed.” Luke grimaced. Looking paler than usual.

“And my hat?” she demanded.

A small mischievous glint appeared in Luke’s eyes as his mouth quirked upwards slightly.

“Already in your pocket.” he said as he moved forward. “Like it always has been.”

“Alright! Alright! That is quite enough!” Dr. Olde sounded. His voice stern and unyielding. “I do believe that I told you all to keep your questions respectful. Not yell out all at once and bombard the speakers like a flock of Stymphalian birds.”

The hall turned to blessed silence. Giving Annabeth the chance to breathe again.

Well, so much for the benefit of the doubt, Annabeth thought bitterly. That was the last time she was calling on one of the rejects of the sea.

“Now. We will be moving on. And I expect civility from here on out.” Dr. Olde warned, before waving his hand over to Claudia and Janice.

In contrast to the start of the session, Janice quickly selected Michael Kahale out of the crowd.

Annabeth had almost forgotten that the son of Venus was in the class. Despite his larger size he was surprisingly good at fading quietly into the background.

“Do you know what the verdict ended up being on Mimi’s fate?” he asked, a calm yet solemn curiosity in his voice.

For just a moment, Annabeth’s nose scrunched in confusion before she remembered that all those who had sided with Octavian were placed on temporary probation until their loyalties were cleared. So it made sense that Kahale hadn’t been in the senate meeting at the time of Mimi’s trial.

“I do!” Janice exclaimed.

Personally Annabeth thought the girl’s exuberance was slightly misplaced, though perhaps the thought of verdicts excited her with who her father was…To each their own she supposed.

“The daughter of Mefitis was sentenced to death for the conspiracy to destroy not only New Rome, but what would have potentially resulted in the destruction of much of the Roman pantheon as well.” Janice revealed.

The casual and unbothered bluntness of her tone caused a shiver to run up Annabeth’s spine.

"Don't kill him!"

"He's a traitor. A traitor!"

“I argued to give her a second chance. The whole reason she succumbed to her fatal flaw of grudges in the first place was because she had been treated like…well, unwanted garbage by the Legion because of something she had no control over.” Claudia stated sadly. “But I guess after the Second Gigantomachy people were less willing to be so forgiving.”

Annabeth could understand why, especially considering everything Octavian had put them through (What Luke had put them through).

Suddenly, an errant thought hit her like a brick to the head.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Annabeth interrupted, trying to tamp down on the urgency of her tone as she shifted to face the girls more directly. “Do you think that Mimi was working with the Triumvirate?”

Both girl’s heads immediately snapped to look at her. Their mouths dropped open in clear shock before they took a moment to glance back at each other in debate.

“It’s…possible.” Claudia cautiously began. “We always did wonder how Mimi had found out about the ancile in the first place since it was a closely guarded secret…”

“The Triumvirate were former Roman Emperors. So it’s possible that they knew about the ancile and encouraged Mimi to act on her desire for revenge against the legion.” Janice gravely agreed. “Especially with the timing…”

A shiver went up Annabeth’s spine. Even now they were still teasing through everything that the Triumvirate Holdings had a hand in. Piper and her father were still dealing with all the financial and legal bullshit those bastards had put them through.

Annabeth let out a heavy breath before turning her attention back on the crowd.

“Next question?” she asked.

When the hands shot up, Annabeth distinctly ignored Darling and Saber and instead pointed to a young woman that she vaguely recognized, but didn’t remember the name of in the first row.

“You said that the Titan King’s plans usually correlated with prophesied quests. How many quests were there?” she asked.

“There were a total of five prophesied quests, including the First Great Prophecy. And one official quest issued by the Queen of the Underworld, though no prophecy was attached to it.” Annabeth replied.

“Were you on any of the quests?” Saber inquired out of turn.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at his falsely innocent expression before turning to Dr. Olde.

“I’ll allow the interruption this once Mr. Saber seeing as Ms. Chase did similarly, but see to it that you do not speak without permission again.” Dr. Olde sternly addressed.

Annabeth felt her eye involuntarily twitch at being called out once again.

“You have my word professor.” Saber cheerfully replied.

Annabeth calculated how much force she would need to ensure the trajectory of her chair would hit Saber and only Saber.

“Yes. In fact I was directly involved in each of the prophesied quests.” Annabeth answered, trying very hard not to grit her teeth when the golden bastard raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Saber?”

“No need to address me so formally in public Ms. Chase.” Saber taunted in a low husky voice.

Screw college, Annabeth decided. I’m killing him.

“Mr. Saber-”

“Alright, alright. I can see when I’ve pushed my luck.” he exclaimed, before leaning forward, a sharp glint in his eyes. “You said that you were directly involved in every prophesied quest. Do you mean that you provided supplementary support in the background to the main questers? Or that you were a member of each quest? Because if so, that’s some major nepotism going on there.”

“Yes. I was in fact an actual participant in each quest.” Annabeth grated out. “And by your logic Percy would be in the same boat seeing as he was a member of every quest, not just the prophesied ones.”

“How curious.” Saber hummed. “You described yourself as a participant while in the same breath saying that Percy was a member. Does that mean you weren’t?”

Death, Annabeth decided, was too good for him.

“Next question.” Dr. Olde sharply declared. “Your final warning Mr. Saber.”

Saber lifted his hands up in surrender and proceeded to lean back in his seat.

Annabeth hoped he stabbed himself with his own earring.

“You! With the pretty green hair!” Claudia called out.

Annabeth was almost certain the girl was the daughter of a dryad.

“What happened to the faun that was working with Mimi?” the girl inquired.

“Oh! Elon? Well with Mimi…gone, the landfill New Rome used needed someone new to run it. And since Elon loves trash he made himself right at home as the new waste manager.” Claudia explained before nodding over to her once more.

In scanning the crowd Annabeth saw that Larry’s hand was actually raised this time.

She had told herself that his previous question was just a coincidence. (Was it?)

That there was no way he could have possibly known. That anyone could know. (Are you sure about that?)

That if anything it was just a dig at her. Likely as a way for him to suck up to Saber. (But what if it wasn’t? Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to see what exactly he knows?)

She did.

 And thus, against her better judgement, Annabeth gestured over to the son of Mercury.

“So if you were a member of each prophesied quest, then what did you contribute to the quest of the winter 2007 prophecy which dealt with the liberation of Atlas from his burden?” Larry challenged, his mischievous elvish features on full display. Like a hawk who’d just successfully ensnared the mouse.

“I did just as much as you on our quests. If not more. And I’ll make sure that you and everyone else remembers that”

Ice ran up Annabeth’s spine as a hawking laugher rang in her ears (Curiosity kills the cat ~).

“You’re asking me to run through a list of comparisons of what I did versus all the others who partook in the quest?” Annabeth barbed, clawing out desperately to regain a semblance of control. “I’m not quite that prideful.”

Annabeth ignored the obnoxious gwaf coming from a certain pirate bastard’s direction.

“Apologies.” Larry acquiesced. “Allow me to change my question then.”

Dread pooled in Annabeth’s gut.

“How was Atlas freed of his burden in the first place?”

A loud ringing sounded in Annabeth’s ears. 

How.

“Luke Castellan took his place temporarily” she heard herself respond.

But of course she was given no reprieve.

“Temporarily? He was just a demigod wasn’t he? He wouldn’t have been able to survive the strain of the burden for long, if at all! And Lady Dian-I’m sorry, Lady Artemis, wouldn’t have taken the burden from a male. Especially not one who was an enemy. So I apologize for being confused on how the goddess ended up taking Atlas’ burden and needed to be saved by questers from Camp Half-Blood.” Larry ruthlessly scrutinized.

“Percy and I took turns unwillingly holding the weight of the sky-”

“Unwillingly?” Darling sharply cut in. His eyes black as the abyss and his tone just as cold. “Last I checked the only way someone can take on Atlas’ burden is if they willingly choose to take it on. And like Larry said, Lady Artemis isn’t likely to stick her neck out for a mortal male. So out of the two of you that means one of you had to be the bait while the other freed her. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out which one you were.”

The ringing got louder.

How.

How.

How!

Annabeth focused on her breathing as she zeroed in on Larry.

How did he-

Annabeth froze.

In Larry’s hands were a stack of papers that looked as if they’d been forcefully flattened after being crushed and crumpled.

Papers with little red stains on them.

“Annabeth Chase, sit down!”

She hadn’t even realized she’d stood up.

“Ms. Chase.” Dr. Olde addressed sternly. “I will not ask again. Sit. Down.”

She…She couldn’t…She needed…needed to get-

Annabeth lashed out, instinctively grabbing the wrist of the person who’d been fool enough to touch her arm.

Janice was gazing at her with a grave expression.

“Don’t.” Janice warned, her voice heavy and unbothered. As if she hadn’t just been almost judo thrown over Annabeth’s shoulder. “Choosing that path won’t go over well for you.”

"You are brave beyond measure, my girl. You will do what is right."

“You found the answers, as I knew you would.”

“One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends. But no pressure, Annabeth. Choose!”

"You should've saved him when you had the chance. You're the only one who could have."

“Wisdom’s Daughter walks alone.”

“You're in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That's what you wanted isn't it?”

“Choose wisely.”

In that moment, the final fraying thread holding back Annabeth’s fury snapped.

“Oh yeah?” Annabeth snarled. “I guess you would know all about that then, being your father’s daughter and all that.”

“Hey!” Claudia furiously exclaimed, standing up in her seat to defend her friend. “She’s just trying to help you!”

“Help?” Annabeth sneered. “All her father does is drive mortals mad for shits and giggles. Who’s to say she’s any different?”

“Don’t take your anger out on her just because you can’t accept the hole you’ve dug for yourself in the past two weeks.” Darling harshly asserted.

Annabeth wheeled on him, ready to finally give the stupid, entitled, arrogant demigod a piece of her unfiltered mind.

Of course she didn’t have the chance before his little barnacle chimed in.

“Just the last two weeks?” Saber scoffed. The older man was laying back in his seat with his boots resting on top of the desk as if he owned it. Looking for all the world that he wished he had some popcorn for the show. “Let’s be real here. Little Miss Hubris here has been walking around NRU acting like she’s the best thing since sliced bread just because she had managed to bully her way onto quests and just so happened to be one of the Seven.”

“But I’ve heard all about you, Percy Jackson. Oh, yes, the young man who saved Olympus. And his faithful sidekick, Annabeth Chase.” 

“Ooookay, now.” Gwen proclaimed, standing to her feet once she realized just how quickly everything was starting to escalate. “Maybe we should all just-”

“I am not just some tag along.” Annabeth growled out. “I am a Savior of Olympus! Their official-”

“Official architect. Yeah. Yeah. Blah, blah, blah. Everyone here has heard it all before. Congratulations, all of NRU knows who you are” Darling sarcastically cut off. “Frankly it's annoying and just plain disrespectful how you always seem to be looking down on all of us just because we may not have the same ‘record’ as you. Everyone here has at least ten years of service attached to their name. And quite a number of us have participated in at least one of the three most recent wars. You’re not the only hero here. By Chaos, you’re standing next to two of the Saviors of New Rome! If you weren’t so caught up in feeling like you need to ‘prove’ yourself all the time, you’d realize that you don’t need to and that you’re actually just pushing those around you away! People who could be your friends if you’d just step off that pedestal of hubris you’ve built for yourself and stop acting like you’re the victim here!”

Heat rose onto her face.

From hatred or shame, Annabeth couldn’t focus well enough to untangle the emotions.

Nor did it matter.

“That is more than enough from all of you!” Dr. Olde proclaimed, his voice somehow rising above the indecipherable noise of whispers around the hall. “This is not the time nor place to air your grievances! Mr. Darling. Mr. Coin. I will being seeing the both of you after class as well-”

“People who could be my friends?! You never gave me the chance to be!” Annabeth raged. All the emotions she’d locked away came bursting forth at the seams. “Judging me as “that” daughter of Minerva without even getting to know me first!”

“Ms. Chase-”

“And I don’t need to prove myself? Ha! Try telling that to every professor and student who looks at me like they're just waiting for the moment I mess up! To jump on me for not knowing something and prove that children of Athena are mistakes!” Annabeth growled out. Unable to stop with the momentum she had now. “I am the victim here.”

The silence that preceded her was gratifying in a way that Annabeth hadn’t felt in a long time.

Naturally it couldn’t last.

“While I won’t sit here and say that everyone here has been exactly warm and welcoming to you, did it ever once occur to you that people return the emotions you project at them? That you had come into New Rome with your armor on and shield already up and a plan in place to protect yourself from threats that hadn’t even attacked yet?” Naia challenged, her voice irritatingly calm and curious as she tilted her head slightly like an inquisitive animal. “When faced with someone already prepared for war, can you truly blame us for arming ourselves in turn?”

A child of Athena should never rely on a blade if she could use her wits instead. Intelligence won wars, not brute force. 

An emotion that Annabeth refused to name or acknowledge swelled up without her consent.

No.

No.

She wasn’t the one in the wrong here! She couldn’t be! (S̵̬̓h̷̠͊͛̾͜ͅe̵̳̘̟͑̂̊ ̶̡͌͑w̷̞̗̐o̵̥̳̊͐ū̷̢̬̺̽̎l̷̮͑ḓ̸̂ń̶̥̏̽'̷̛̜̼͌̓t̶̠̙͗ ̵̛̮͎̀̓b̸̹̾̇ë̶͈̗͉́͆́!̷͓͝͠).

“Regardless of who brought the weapons first, all it takes is one side to reach out their hand in ceasefire” Michael Kahale stated, his voice heavy and wary. “You didn’t try any more than we did.”

Because they had tried stealing Percy from her. (Ṭ̶̡̖͕̓͌̉̈́h̶̦̪̭̬̞̽̀e̸͍̪͕͋̐̏͜͝ȳ̴͎̮͚̳͚̃̀͒ ̷̬̇̋̿́͋s̶̛͙̓ṱ̴̛͕͍̖͓͐̐͘į̸̝̭̫̙͓̅͂̇͠l̴̟̗̪͉̻̖̦̍l̵̨̼̥̬̊̉̃́̚ ̵̼͚̪̄̇̄́̉͋͐w̷͎͛͊̈̀̕͠e̵̳̓͑̅͊͠ȑ̵̢̈́͌́͌̚͠ë̵̙̣̦͙́̈́͐͠).

“Why should we when she’s the one who came here with preconceived notions-”

“Saber, be silent.” Gwen ordered sharply. Amazingly the older boy listened. “Annabeth isn’t the only one who came in with preconceived notions-”

“I’m pretty sure ours are more justified considering the first time she set foot in New Rome she showed no respect for us, our leaders, or her boyfriend. And nearly started a diplomatic incident and proceeded to cockily stand in front of us as if she hadn’t just insulted the legacy and authority of New Rome and act like she was above the consequences of doing so.” Hank declared icily.

Annabeth put her knee on Percy’s chest. She pushed her forearm against his throat. She didn’t care what the Romans thought.

She held out her hand. “I only attack my boyfriend like that,” she promised. “Pleased to meet you.” 

“I think you’re duly forgetting that New Rome were the ones who caused the conflicts with the Greeks in the first place.” Annabeth retorted with a snarl. “The children of Athena may have been influenced by our mother to seek retribution, but the Romans were the ones to steal the Athena Parthenos to begin with. Not to mention it took until after Jason Grace’s death for the lot of you to actually start paying proper respects to all of the gods. Even some of the Olympians! How this place has never been cursed by half your pantheon for all the so-called “respect” you show them still baffles me!”

“Athena!”

“That was my name. Before they sacked my city, took my identity, made me this. I must return home.”

“You’re…you’re Minerva?”

“Don’t call me that! I used to carry a spear and a shield. I held victory in the palm of my hand. I was so much more than this.”

They were to blame.

“Something is wrong with you. What’s happened?”

“Rome happened! See what they have done, making a Roman of me. They wish me to be their goddess? Then let them taste their own evil. Kill them, child.”

They caused her to be all but disowned.

“No!”

“Then you are nothing.”

After everything she had done. Everything she had achieved.

After all her blood, sweat, tears, and the sacrifices she had made.

All of it. Brushed away. As if it meant nothing.

“The gods are busy. They have a lot of kids and they don’t always . . . Well, sometimes they don’t care about us, Percy. They ignore us.”

As if she meant nothing.

“You’re all just jealous that the Gods actually favor us.” Annabeth spat out. (It was true. It needed to be true. Because if not, then that meant she was just a disposable pawn). “And for good reason. I’ve done more than any of you could hope to accomplish in ten lifetimes!”

“Just because you made the right choices on who to piggyback off of and use to elevate herself up the ladder doesn't mean you’re any better than any of us.” Janice retorted. “Not everyone has such potentially fatalistic ambitions.”

“All my accomplishments are my own.” Annabeth vitriolically spat out. “Just because I was brave enough, bold enough, to doggedly reach for the doors put in front of me, doesn’t make that fact any less true.”

“You may hide behind your pride, but I can see through your disillusions and lies.” Janice declared, an eerie echo to her voice reverberated in Annabeth’s skull. As if she were hearing Janice speaking twice at once. “When I look at you, I see all the choices you have ever made, Annabeth Chase. They are laid out behind my eyes playing like a film reel.”

Dread. No. Fear curtled in Annabeth’s stomach.

“And with this knowledge I can say with certainty, that while you are a hero, Annabeth Chase,” Janice stated, her voice sharp with warning. “You are not a hero to the degree that you believe yourself to be. And if you wish to survive your current descent, then you need to pull back the curtains and open the doors that you yourself have closed.”

Annabeth lunged at Janice.

With a speed and reflex she hadn’t thought him capable of, Dr. Olde swiftly wrapped an arm around her torso and pivoted, all but flinging her so that she landed on her feet about five feet away from Janice, and placed himself between them.

“Class is dismissed.” Dr. Olde declared with a cold finality. “I expect a short two to three page essay by Monday on prejudices and how they resulted in lasting consequences for New Rome or Camp Half-Blood. Pick a singular example to highlight. Ms. Chase, Mr. Saber, Mr. Coin, Mr. Darling, Ms. Aukia, Mr. Kahale, Mr. Treshold, and Ms. Durward stay behind”.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

As the class filed out in droves, Annabeth glared down at the daughter of Janus as if she could tease out all the secrets of the unknown just from unraveling the other girl with her eyes.

Curtains. Doors. Descent.

What did it all mean?

“A choice is coming Annabeth Chase. One that will determine your future for the remainder of your mortal existence in the world of the living.”

What choice?

“You are not a hero to the degree that you believe yourself to be.”

She was.

She knew she was. (It seems you still have yet to temper your pride).

She didn’t need to. She wasn’t the one in the wrong here.

“Now. Who here can give me the definition of appropriate classroom conduct?” Dr. Olde demanded stonily.

Annabeth threw her backpack onto her bed with such force that it had actually bounced a foot into the air before landing back down onto her comforter with a fwump.

Suspended.

The NRU disciplinary committee had suspended her from classes for the remainder of the semester.

Lack of adherence to college policies and procedures. Multiple counts of vandalism, the destruction of campus property, and invasion of privacy. Plagiarism. Disruption of classroom operations. Attempted assault.

Fine.

She would just enroll in more classes at UC Berkeley.

And in the meantime, she now had more time to plot her revenge against a certain smug cock who was likely already counting all his chickens.

She wasn’t going to let him win.

She was going to get back everything he was systematically trying to take away from her.

But first she needed to plan this out carefully.

Swiping all the materials off her desk, Annabeth yanked out her notebook and slapped it onto her desk.

She needed allies. Gods who she knew would side with her and wouldn’t be afraid to go against one of the Olympians.

Hecate, maybe. She thought. Aphrodite, too if I play my cards right.

Fortunately Hana was out for the evening or else Annabeth was certain her friend would have called Crisis on her and had her instituted with how deranged she probably sounded in her furious rambles to herself.

So caught up in her planning, Annabeth almost didn’t register the familiar notification ring sound from her laptop.

With an annoyed huff, Annabeth got up and grabbed her laptop from where it had fallen partially out of her bag from when she had roughly pulled out her notebook.

Opening her screen, she pulled up her emails to find that she actually had two new unread ones in her inbox.

The first was from Piper.

The other was from her project manager on Olympus.

For a minute Annabeth hesitated.

Uncertain of which email to click on first.

With how everything seemed to be going in her life, both were likely a trap.

The question was, which one did she want to fall into?

Annabeth chose.

The sound of the click was almost deafening in the silence of the room.

Hope soared in Annabeth’s chest.

This was exactly the opportunity she needed!

Even if it was some sort of trick, she’d still be able to use the trip to gather information on where the messenger had taken Percy and potentially get herself some allies!

Annabeth’s eyes slid back to the email.

The Temple of Wisdom.

Perhaps this was her chance to get more than just allies and information.

Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

Chapter Text

Annabeth was flying.

Winds jetted past as she glided upon their currents with minimal turbulence.

The most breath-taking part?

Being able to admire the expansive terrain as she watched rolling hills turn into lush forests. Expansive lakes dotted the patchwork sections of undeveloped wild spaces. The crisp stripes of the farmlands joined by the geometric patterns of the gridded sections of land surveyed long ago by man. All partitioned by winding dirt roads, flimsy fences, and sparkling waterways.

She wasn’t a painter, but the views made her want to take out a sheet of vellum and start sketching out a blueprint of the land’s layout for herself.

Annabeth watched as clouds zipped past her as she soared through the skies, her wings-

Wait, wings?

Reality hit Annabeth like a Laistrygonian deathball as she finally registered the details around her.

She was flying.

But no longer was she encased by aluminum, titanium, steel, carbon fiber, and fiberglass. She was not surrounded by resting mortals nor was she relaxing in the cushioned wool-blended upholstery of the cramped airline seats.

Annabeth herself was soaring through the air unaided.

Or rather, the person from whose perspective she was seeing was soaring through the air unaided.

I’m dreaming, Annabeth realized with a shock. She was having a demigod dream.

The last time she had an actual demigod dream and not a nightmare was back during that whole Governor’s Island fiasco.

Without warning the world suddenly swooped and swerved as Annabeth barrel rolled beneath a flock of incoming geese, causing her stomach to churn at the expected motion.

Focus, Annabeth chastised herself, trying to soak in every detail should could with her limited periphery.

First things first, she needed to figure out whose eyes she was seeing through. And why.

A giggle escaped her lips, one that sounded of chimes and notifications.

No.

It wasn’t she who was laughing.

What is life without a little drama to spice things up? A distinctly feminine voice echoed. The words themselves trumpeting in her ears like an exuberant exaltation. You’ve been a favorite of mine for quite a few years now, Annabeth Chase.

A chill that had nothing to do with the altitude ran up her spine.

You are quite the little weaver of tales. Altering the patterns of the threads you spin with such a careful, yet subtle, delicate hand. The voice chimed, the volume lowering as if only she were meant to hear the omission, though the sound still rang through the canals of her ears with an uncomfortable clarity that Annabeth was reminded of the child’s game Telephone. Of hushed whispers spoken and twisted as they were passed from one ear to the next until they no longer resembled the original truths.

Most cannot appreciate the delicacy of such things. Everyone wants immediate fame and notoriety. Always crowing about their successes and achievements for all to hear. No patience at all! The voice blared a deep brassy note in harsh condemnation. But you, Annabeth Chase. You understand the importance of me. Of how it is the people who shape whether your legends will be exalted and honored or if you will join the infamous myths warning all those who will come after.

Such art! Such fun! The voice cheered, sounding akin to the high-pitch celebratory trumpets of games and announcements.

Annabeth felt dizzy as she was death spiraled about the air. White feathers, each with a beautiful iridescent sheen shimmering in the sunlight fluttered about around her, having somehow come loose from the goddess’s wings.

And it had to be a goddess, Annabeth determined. The question was, which one?

It wasn’t Aphrodite. Iris was a possibility, but she’d met the goddess before and she hadn’t acted in this way toward her. 

Definitely not my mother, The voice sing-songed. But that is neither here nor there.

Is there a reason you have contacted me via my dreams? Annabeth inquired, trying to remain polite and keep the war impatience out of her tone.

A final gift to a favored mortal. We’ve had such fun over the years that I decided to grant one final boon before everything you’ve weaved unravels! The voice joyously exclaimed, as if each word they had said was not harkening her demise. 

A final boon? Annabeth queried warily, a lump in her throat at the supposed gift she was about to receive.

She’d had enough “gifts” and “special attention” from the gods recently to last four lifetimes.

Yup! The voice childishly exclaimed. I know you’ve been a bit out-of-touch recently, so I figured you’d appreciate a little sneak peek into everything going on before I have to take you to Him.

While a thrill of anticipation swept through her at the thought of finally subverting the Messenger’s wiles, a voice in the back of her head that sounded very similar to her mother warned her to maintain her caution.

Who's Him? Annabeth decided was the wiser of the two questions to ask.

Laughter chanted all around her. And for the first time, Annabeth realized that all the feathers hovering about her were covered with tiny eyes, mouths, and ears.

A jolt zipped through her. A memory buried within the recesses of her mind resurfacing.

A goddess associated with the spread of fame and scandal. A goddess with a trumpet and wings sometimes detailed as being decorated in anatomical features.

You’re the goddess Phe- 

Names have power, child. The goddess whispered conspiratorially. As if she were relaying some untold secrets.

Despite viewing the world from the goddess’ perspective, Annabeth could practically feel the lips against the lobe of her ear, the wind of the goddess’ breath tickling her neck as her hairs stood on end. Now, let’s see where this gossip train takes us, shall we?

With a jolt, the feathers hovering about swirled about the goddess in a tempest of flashing colors.

Annabeth watched through the goddess’ eyes as her form brightened like sunlight before bursting outwards in a flash, the goddess’ essence scattering with its feathers, each rocketing off in a different direction.

And so did Annabeth.

Annabeth was used to taking in lots of information at once. She’d even learned how to regulate her thoughts and mind to a certain degree over the years.

Using the gods’ ability to divide their consciousness as inspiration, she’d even managed to teach herself how to split her mind into two different levels. One part of her mind could be focusing on a conversation with someone while the other part could be drawing up schematics or figuring out a way to get her out of whatever mess she was currently in.

But this?

This?

The sheer amount of input being drilled into her forcibly divided consciousness was beyond any description of agony the mortal world had to compare. 

Annabeth was everywhere. Every sight and sound was a blur of color and noise. Every sensation stabbing needles into her brain as she felt herself tearing apart at the seams.

“̶͎̟̠̐̔̀Ȁ̴͖͖̅͠u̵͔̽̚ȓ̷̲͔̤̃͝î̸̜̼̱̄è̵̩́̕,̵̨̾ ̷͇̠̊y̸̜̽̀̉o̷̧͙̓͋ȕ̷ͅ-̵̭̍-̵͔̊ĕ̴̪̱d̵͚̆ ̸͓̃͑t̶̜͚͚́͗o̶̡̚ ̷̕͘ͅc̵̨̒͊à̶̳̟̫ḻ̶̽̑̇-̸̭͗͌̿d̴͖̖͛o̴̡̟͆͝-̷̛̤͜-̶͕̖̭̚̚!̶̩̘̒”̶̬̗̾̀͠

“̷̙͆-̴̭̆-̵̤̉l̶̡͝m̷̦̅ ̶̭̉d̵̩͛ŏ̴̪-̷̟̓-̴͓̽?̷͙̔!̴̘͆ ̷̭̇C̶̰̎ȧ̷̧l̸̬̍-̵̰̿-̸͙̀-̵̦̌ẅ̵͜n̶͕͛?̸̪̚!̶̦́ ̸͙̾T̵̻̈́h̶̻͗a̴̮̍t̷̗͌ ̴̯̾b̴͔̿i̶̩̿-̵͉̃-̴̠̑-̴̗͛ ̸̠́ä̸̙́l̸̺͛m̶̤͌o̵̥͑-̵͎͐-̵̳̊ ̶̢͂k̴̤̿i̴̼͗l̴̢̅l̸͚̆-̶͛ͅ-̶̧́-̵̱̕i̸̳̚m̵̗̀!̷͉͌ ̵̤̓Ḁ̸͘n̶͙͋d̸͈̀ ̶̳͂t̶̹̅ḣ̴̭-̸̥̓-̸̉ͅọ̸͆r̸̡͑ş̴̛t̸͎̄ ̸̠̿p̶̻͛a̸͕͠r̶̺̂-̴̥̾-̸̠̑ị̴͘s̸͓͘,̴̥̿ ̸̼̀s̷̞̑ḩ̴̾ẹ̷̃-̵̻͘-̶̖̚-̷̝̅s̵̡̿n̷̲͑’̷̩͒t̸̳͘-̵͖̄-̶͇̂-̵̰́a̶͉̅n̴͎̓ģ̷̓é̷̞d̴̫̓ ̴͕̂a̵̡͆ ̷̫̉b̸̠̏i̸̹̓-̸͕̎!̸̙͐”̶̼̕

“̴̠̃T̶̺͘h̸͍̓-̶̘́ ̴̼̑g̴̠̒h̴̦̐ö̸̥-̵̬́t̵͖͛s̵̡͘-̸̻̔-̴̤͝v̸̼̈́e̴̛̪ ̵͚̌s̷̼̄h̷͙͑ö̶͙́-̶̜̍-̷̝͘ ̷̩͛m̸̮͊ę̴̆ ̸̹̏s̴̢̑ô̷̩-̸̰͑-̴͆ͅ ̵͉̈i̵͜͠n̸̪̾-̶̘͛-̵̤̀-̸̱̐e̴͍͌s̴̤̈́t̵̳̎ī̵̼n̶̝̆g̷̼̏ ̴͙͘ṱ̷͛r̷̅͜u̸̮̓t̷̫̑h̶̨̉s̵̥̈.̷̱̀”̸̨̑

“̸̢̅I̶̭͗ ̷̲͊d̴͈̄-̵͍̊-̴̰̊’̵̟̔t̷̤͠ ̶̳̈́k̸̠͑n̶̫͆ȏ̸̱-̷̼̐ ̸͍̍D̷͚͗ą̸̀v̸̙̑ĕ̶̼.̴̜̾ ̷̜̏I̴̳͑’̵̘̍m̸̲͒ ̸́ͅ-̶̤̾-̵̭́a̵̢̚l̷͕̓l̶̄ͅỷ̴͈ ̷̱͝ẃ̷̘ǒ̷̪r̷̜͒-̴̤̓-̴̞̈-̵̩̌-̶̞͑ ̸͈̿â̵̞b̴̛̯ȯ̶̫u̷͔̓-̸͉̏ ̷̨̈́h̶̞̓e̸̖̍r̵̙̃.̸͍̑ ̷̛̺-̶̖̈́-̵̥̽-̸̮͘b̶͔̚ẹ̵̌ ̸̩͠w̴̆͜ė̵̢ ̷̞̀-̷͈͂-̸͇́ë̴̠d̵̦͑ ̵͖̇t̷̥̐ó̶̼ ̴̫̍h̵͔̾a̷̖̓-̴̤̇-̷͙͝ä̴̢ń̸̨ ̴̺̏-̶͖͛-̶̬̉-̴̿͜-̶͖̋-̵͎͂v̸͕̅ȩ̷͗ń̴͉t̷̳̕ḯ̶͖o̸̦̓n̵̡̓ ̸͕̃ó̸̢r̵̡͝-̶̰̎-̴̭̈́-̴͙̈́m̵̱̈e̸̹͛t̷͖͝h̶̛ͅi̶̱͝ṋ̴̉ǵ̸ͅ.̶̟̓ ̵̻́Ȋ̴͙ ̴̘͋-̵̭̐-̷̎ͅo̴̙̿w̷̦̅ ̸̈́͜A̴̙̋n̶͓̑n̷̼̈á̵͉-̵̨͝-̸͇͗-̶̙̀-̴͝ͅ ̶̯̕c̵̦̊a̵͇͘n̵̮͊-̶̙͝-̷̢͝e̸̲̚ ̷̡̂h̷̺̾a̷͇͝-̵̰̕-̸̱̏-̴̬̀ḫ̴̂ẹ̶̇-̵̻̑-̷̹̃ẹ̷͗d̶̹̋,̵̼̀ ̵̣̽b̶͍̓-̶̜͂ẗ̵͉́ ̴̡͋I̴͉̐ ̸̰͠t̷͚̉h̸̲̿-̶̟̅-̵̦̌k̴͎͠ ̶̭̒ḇ̶͒ö̷̤́-̸̟̃-̶̤̆ ̸̠̌s̶͇̅h̵̖̚e̵̞̿ ̷̦͘-̸̣̔n̶̝͗d̶̺́ ̴͚͛P̷͍̔e̸̞͝r̸̯̀-̴̺̎-̴̳̍ ̷̻͝w̷̱͆-̶̆ͅ-̸̭̉l̸̻̓ḓ̸̀ ̸̗̈́b̸̥͛e̷̢͆ ̴͉͒b̵͎̓ë̴̖-̶͎͋-̷̢͘e̵̦̚ŗ̸̊ ̵͔̈́o̵͌ͅf̵̦̉f̴̻͆ ̶͇̏-̸̮̈-̵̫̓-̴̯͠k̸͙͗e̶̠̔n̷̨̅ ̸̯͗u̸̪̓ṗ̶̙.̸̢̀”̴̪̎

“̶̨͔̪̈̐̕Y̸̜͝ő̷̼͕̕-̵̻͎̂ ̷̧̟̇̌͂d̷̮̬̫̍̀-̵͖̟̏͂-̶̡̛̬̈͘’̷̯̇̑̈ẗ̵̡̘̥́ ̶̢͐́̿s̵̩͇̋e̴̘̎̕-̶̪̥͔̏̇m̸̢̽̄̈ ̵̣͠t̶͇̝̮́͗͠ó̴̯̫-̶̫͋͂-̴͍̐̇͛e̸̜̝͊̽͑ ̵̞̠͝͠ā̸̖̟̙̓̒l̴̩̝͎̈ļ̵̣̙̈́́ ̶̧̄̈́ţ̷̍̆ḧ̴̢̲́̐̽-̶̡̀-̵̢͕͋ ̴̞̚ữ̸̩̝-̵̼̰̪̌-̴̢̡̗̀e̶̞̳̭͌̈́t̴̢̤̾̾͜.̴̯̻̖͐͊ ̵̹͖̫̅͘Ẅ̵͕̞̺̔ĕ̵͝ͅ-̷̖̑̿-̸̦̉͑n̴̻̥̪̓͋̿’̴̙͓̅t̵̪̦͈̉ ̷̜̑t̸̠̃͐͠h̸̝͑-̵̜̃̿y̴̞͒̈́̄ ̵̖̠͛̆̊s̷̛͕ù̶̯̠̜̋̕p̷̞̔͜-̵̜̗̓ͅ-̸̗̠͆-̷̲͝ͅȇ̴̼̗͚d̵̝͈̠̈́ ̸̲̎͊̚t̶̠̠̤̾̑-̵̲̞̒̕ ̴̟̤͌͋͑͜b̸̢̾e̶̺̬͒ ̸̠͌ͅṱ̴͒h̷͍͎͇́͝e̵̯͚̱͗̄͊ ̵̬̾-̶̬̙̰̉̿͘-̵̡̤̟̈́x̶̥́̚t̶̥̭̿ ̶̡̜̅͝Ḩ̸̙̑̅̄e̵̞̩̚-̴̺̭̘̃̅-̶͈̲̞̆̽͊n̴̲̟̟͒ ̴̢͓̯̅̚͝a̸̝̒̏ṉ̷̫̈́͘͠d̴͙̝́̀ ̸̢̖̔̔P̸̼͇͝ͅa̷͓̬̳̽r̸̖̋ͅ-̵͍̝̓̓-̵̝̆?̸̜̭͊̆”̶͙͕̀

“̵͓̈T̷͖͊h̴̢̉-̶͙̀y̵̼͋ ̸̨̍s̸̺̓t̶̯̕-̶͉̍-̷̢͗ļ̶̓ ̴̟͊-̸̞̾r̸̺̽-̸̝̏.̴́ͅ”̴͔̽

“̴̟̯͚̀̈́S̵͇̆̓͠a̵̧̪̹͠-̵̯͕͓̇-̴̪͑̎ẏ̶̖̃!̸̳̜͕́̔͂ ̵̖̞̬̔H̸̻̩̗͒̏̎e̷͕̻͌l̸͉̗͓̊̈́̿-̸̲̯̾ò̶͎̗̣̚̕!̷͓̈́̔͑ ̴͓͇̅͝-̶̨͎̔͐ǫ̶̺̌͜ẅ̸̤̙́̏̽ ̸̼̯͊̃̑ȧ̷͉̤̯͆͂ṟ̷̑-̶͈̻̓̚ ̵̲̬̓ÿ̵̩́͒-̵̯̉u̴̬̿̿͆?̸̨̱̊ͅ”̶͉̈͛̄

“̸͎͝I̷͕̔-̶̞̄-̸̿͜-̴̯̔-̵͚̈á̵͓d̷͖̈́y̸̠̒ ̷̟̐s̸͙̀p̶̡̅-̷̦͠-̵̧͛e̸̱̐ ̴̡̓t̷̳̀o̵̦̾ ̶̤͌E̴̱̽-̴̥̔l̸̺̃á̸̖-̶͚́-̸̯́-̴̩̉d̷̝͛ ̶͎͌s̶̼̏h̵͇̿e̸͚͑ ̷̖̓à̸̯ḡ̷͚r̴̛͍-̶͙̏-̴͈̐ḑ̶̎.̶̞͗ ̴̝̒T̷̻̅h̴̪̒e̷͎̔ ̶̢̀p̶̼̾ř̸͇ō̷̱-̷̭̔-̴̫̄e̸̯͛c̴̝͝y̵̘̚ ̴̜͘i̸̮̚s̸͈͝-̴͔̄-̵̢̛-̸͉̃ ̸̮͘f̶̦̂-̸̖͠r̶͖̈́ ̵̼̈́a̸̤͒ ̸͙̾q̵̯̈-̷̺̑-̷͔̈́s̸͕̾t̴̢̆.̷̻͝”̶̯͌

Stop! She begged. Please!

Oops. A familiar chime echoed amongst the cacophony of sensations. I forgot mortals can’t handle so much information at once.

Suddenly, everything went from too much, to as if she were peering out at the world through a pinhole.

Blurs of color melt together into solid shapes and forms with the accompanying harmonies of the sounds around them.

It took what felt like hours for the sheer agony to subside before Annabeth registered exactly what it was she was seeing as she swayed about the wind as a disembodied feather.

A beautiful open field with long grass and flowers. And two young teens sitting shoulder to shoulder, one Annabeth immediately recognized, fiddling with the long blades.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” the dark-haired girl offered, her studded nose ring glinting in the moonlight as she rested her head atop Piper’s.

This must be Shel, Annabeth realized.

“I don’t know what to think.” Piper replied, sounding a mix of defeated and bitter. “Annabeth isn’t answering any of my messages. And apparently nobody’s heard from Percy either.”

Annabeth wanted to scream. Fruitlessly trying to mentally will the feather closer so that she could whisper the truth into Piper’s ear. To tell her that Hermes had kidnapped Percy. That the god had blocked her from being able to contact anyone. That the two of them were currently trapped at the mercy of the gods’ games.

But of course Piper heard none of it.

“Do you think what people are saying are true?” Shel asked, her voice little more than a whisper though Annabeth heard her as clearly as if she had yelled it across the field.

Piper crushed a pappus in her hand, her kaleidoscope eyes shifting between dark brown, blue, yellow, and a shade of burgundy Annabeth had never seen before in her friend's eyes.

“I don’t know.” Piper repeated, her tone now harsher than before. “I know Annabeth better than I know Percy.…At least I thought I did…But…”

You do! Annabeth screeched. You do know me!

The two of them had comforted each other in their darkest of times. Confessed their deepest fears. They had cried on each other's shoulders more than once.

Ever since their first meeting years ago, Piper had unexpectedly become the rocks that steadied her foundation. She’d been vulnerable with Piper in ways that she never allowed herself to be with anyone else, even Percy.

So to hear that her friend was now starting to doubt all of that was gutting in a way that left her as unmoored as when she had seen Percy’s empty dorm room.

“Hey, no matter what she’s still your friend right? And until she and Percy can speak for themselves I think I’d be best to wait before judging who is telling the truth and who is…embellishing in this scenario.” Shel attempted to assuage.

Piper opened her palm, releasing the pappus seeds into the wind.

“I hope you’re right.” Piper whispered into the breeze.

Before Annabeth could try once more to get her friend’s attention and demand to know just what it was that she was talking about and what lies Hermes had been spreading, her vision went black as the eye on the feather blinked.

Panicking at the sudden darkness, Annabeth immediately closed her own eyes. The abject nothingness reminding her too much of the Mansion of Night.

Forcing her breathing to remain steady, it took a moment for Annabeth to realize she could hear again.

“Quiescite et audite!”

Latin?

Cautiously Annabeth opened her eyes to see that she was now floating along the inner murals of the domed ceiling of the Senate House in New Rome.

“Silentium! Contio habetur” Frank commanded crossly, glaring down the senators as if they were a bunch of childish barbarians (Which they were, but still).

The Hall quieted down as Frank and Hazel took the podium.

“I understand that you all have questions. We do as well. That being said, speaking ill of any hero of Olympus without them being able to defend themself remains in poor taste.” Hazel declared, her golden eyes glistening to a boil. “There is always more than one side to any story. And I can assure you that we will be working closely with Dr. Olde to determine fact from fiction with the…developments the gods have gifted to us.”

What developments?! Annabeth demanded. Was this about her comparisons report?

“What’s there to determine?” Leila scoffed. “It’s not like it changes anything in the long run. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together should know to take things with a grain of salt. This meeting is a pointless waste of time.”

“Maintaining civil order is never a waste of time.” Frank chastised. “The…developments have caused an influx of clamoring and unrest amongst the veterans, both in the Legion and the citizens of New Rome. They're claiming it is confirmation of their suspicions and accusations are now starting to circulate.”

“Evidence. They are seeing it as evidence” Ida corrected. “And Praetor Zhang is correct. Many are demanding a formal trial, if only to determine the truth.”

“Will there even be a formal trial?” Terrence inquired, his question bringing the buzzing of the Hall to a silence as all the centurions turned to face their Praetors.

Annabeth watched as Hazel pursed her lips, frustration and the slightest bit of hesitancy clashed in her molten eyes.

“Currently there is no concrete proof of a crime being committed at this time. As I stated before, we will be working with Dr. Olde to determine the validity of events. As well as reaching out to our sister camp for additional details and information.” Hazel exclaimed. “That being said, whether or not a formal trial is held, there is still the court of public opinion to contend with. That is what we are here to discuss today.”

Were the citizens of New Rome truly so bored that the fallout of the Q&A caused such a ruckus?

No, Annabeth shook her head. No. Something else has to be going on.

“Look, I may not personally know the demigods in question here, but from what I can gather they are both heroes. And the satyr too!” Lavinia spoke out. “While being pretentious and embellishing yourself aren't a great way to go about scoring social points, it’s hardly a crime-”

“Maybe not.” Ida clipped. “But there can be consequences to altering a story’s narrative even slightly. Especially at the expense of others. Maliciously done or not.”

Or maybe this was about her comparisons report, Annabeth thought. Though the possibility of her report causing such an uproar still floored her. Was it truly such a big deal that she had omitted a few things from her report? Adjusted her wording slightly? In the end nothing she had written was a lie. So what did it truly matter in the end?

She had known that her report topic would be controversial. Despite the strides the camp leaders had been making in bettering relations between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, prejudices and bitter feelings still existed as well as a new surge of competitiveness between the camps. She had known that should her paper topic get out that there might be some backlash from the Romans stemming from wounded prides and egos. But she hadn’t thought it would be this much of an issue.

Though a part of her wondered if this was just a certain god of messengers and tricksters having fun at her expense.

The goddess currently yanking her around was also another unknown variable in the whole equation.

“History is written by the victors. Winston Churchill 1891. History changes with who speaks it.” Ella exclaimed, fluttering herself down onto the special perch Tyson had built for her whenever she did have to attend the Senate meetings as New Rome’s representative Augur.

Annabeth hadn’t noticed her earlier. When did she return to New Rome? Has Tyson returned too?

“Stories become legends. Legends become myths. Myths are remembered. Some are revered. And some become more.” Ella declared, as if possessed. Not unlike when she was speaking out the prophesied lines of the Sibylline Books.

A feeling of dread ran up Annabeth’s spine.

And worsened the moment Ella tilted her head up at the ceiling.

Though she wasn’t sure how, Annabeth swore that the harpy seemed to somehow be looking exactly in her direction despite her not even technically being in the room.

But the moment Ella opened her mouth, Annabeth knew that this was no longer just a game.

“Lost is your shield,

Your true face revealed,

A promise born from fear,

An oath broken year after year,

You must temper your pride,

And face the demons you try to hide,

Grab the hands outstretched,

Or remain wretched,

For only the truth will set you free,

Both you and he.”

No.

No!

Fear gripped Annabeth's heart as the chaos in the Hall roared in her ears.

That wasn’t a prophecy.

No.

It was a warning.

A threat to everything Annabeth had built for herself over the years.

But before Annabeth had any real time to try and parse through the words now ringing about her skull, the world went dark once more and the feather's eye shut.

When the color finally returned she found herself in a familiar workshop surrounded by miniature models replicating the infamous battles of the American Civil War.

“I agree.” an achingly familiar timber echoed.

The view shifted slightly, allowing Annabeth to see the disheveled figure of her father as he leaned against his desk, phone pressed up against his ear, held up by his shoulder as his fingers wrapped themselves in a death grip around a book.

“As a historian and engineer I can’t help but to be intrigued by the opportunity to learn more about our children’s world…But as a parent?” Her father paused, a grimace making its way onto his face. “The thought of just what it is I might find terrifies me in a way I haven’t experienced since finding out well into the aftermath that my daughter survived the culmination of a war defending Manhattan from Titans…And falling into the Pits…”

Without her consent, tears started welling up into the corners of Annabeth's eyes (Or was it the feather's eye?).

She wanted her father.

She wanted Percy.

She wanted Piper and Thalia, Grover and Chiron.

She wanted someone to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

Annabeth didn't know if Pheme was throwing her a bone or taking pity on her, but the next time the eye blinked Annabeth found herself in a familiar encampment deep in the woods. Surrounded by over a dozen girls of all different ages decked out in camouflage and circled around a blazing campfire.

The Hunters of Artemis, Annabeth realized with a jolt as the feather continued its path unseen around them, the gases from the flames kicking her up high into the air before fluttering gently down and somehow managing to slip through the closed flaps of the largest tent.

Sitting cross-legged upon an intricately carved wooden throne adorned with animal pelts and furs, and a young doe laying in front of her, was the goddess of the Hunt herself. Not in her usual twelve year old form, but instead one of a young woman in her early twenties. She wore a short dress and tall boots all made up of what looked like dried animal skins with the pelt of a bear draped around her shoulders and her hands wrapped in leathers. Her untamed curly red hair was braided down her back with amaranth and crisp leaves weaved between them. A crown of silver and animal bone adorned her head, with the sharpened antlers of a buck jutting out from the sides of the crescent at its center.

The sight was jarring to behold. While Artemis had always maintained an aura of cold otherworldliness about her, she somehow always seemed to have a grounded sense about her. Serious yet understanding. Sharp as the arrows she carried and shrewd and unrelenting in how her eyes tracked and assessed all that was around her.

After her mother, Artemis was the goddess Annabeth had respected the most. Especially after she had defended her, Percy, and Thalia at the winter solstice meeting all those years ago.

But the fiery goddess who bravely did not yield in the face of the King and had boldly defended the children who had rescued her was currently nowhere to be seen.

In her place was something…Other. A Being of wild untamed perfection that sat stiller than a statue of marble. The severe look in Its unblinking silvery eyes made the frigid sub-below winds of Antarctica seem like an island paradise.

A gaze that promised nothing less than the absolute pain It felt was deserved in retribution for whatever wrongs had been committed.

Whereas Apollo was all fiery passion and blazing fury, Artemis was the silent predator stalking in the unforgiving chill of the night.

Someone had angered the goddess of the Hunt. And Annabeth was certain of one thing.

Whomever it was, it would not end well for them.

Kneeling in front of the goddess herself as if she wasn't a twitch away from smiting the closest person to her were the prone forms of Thalia Grace and Reyna Ramírez-Arellano.

“Please my Lady. We would not ask thee if it were not of the utmost importance.” Thalia pleaded, keeping her eyes downcast and her body prostrated, practically eating the synthetic weave beneath her as she begged.

If possible the goddess’s glaze turned even more glacial.

Fear prickled up Annabeth's spine. Memories of the myths Chiron would tell her when she was younger came to the forefront of her mind. Stories of bears and bulls. Sea monsters and cliffs. (Of pine trees and the Arai).

Annabeth wanted to scream for Thalia to keep talking. To distract and delay. (For her to run away this time).

Whatever Thalia had asked of Artemis, clearly the goddess was not in a generous mood.

“My trusted Lieutenant you may be, but the two of you are far too close to the matter to handle things objectively.” Artemis admonished. “We cannot afford leniency with a matter as delicate as this.”

A shiver wracked Annabeth’s body at the absolute cold fury radiating from the goddess’ words.

“With all due respect my Lady, I've never been a particularly forgiving person.” Thalia rebuked darkly, her own tone matching her master's ice for ice. “I want answers as much as you do. And no matter what path those answers may lead to, I will not waver.” ("He's a traitor. A traitor!").

“And I have always placed my duties over my own personal feelings.” Reyna asserted, though like Thalia her gaze never left the ground in front of her. (“Someone must pay for what happened. Let it be you. It’s the better option.”).

Annabeth couldn't breathe as she stared down the goddess of the Hunt like a deer caught in the headlights. Petrified for the verdict as the goddess took her time mulling over her friends’ words with only the muffled symphony of crickets and rustling of the trees daring to interrupt her.

“Very well.” the goddess said at last.

But before Annabeth could even finish exhaling in relief she quickly found herself blinked to yet another location.

This time what looked like a shoreline.

And standing in the surf talking animatedly to a dolphin was none other than Grover.

Her friend was gesticulating wildly, paying no mind to the swash of the waves as they rushed past his legs and hooves. His hair and horns were a bit longer and curlier than the last time she’d seen him.

“You’re asking for a formal audience with Lord Poseidon?” the dolphin inquired, causing Annabeth to jolt in shock, not expecting to hear anything besides high pitch clicks and screeches from the mammal.

Grover straightened, trying his best to look authoritative and in-charge, though his ‘Protect plants. Not profits’ t-shirt ruined the image somewhat.

“Yes.” Grover exclaimed. His eyes and tone were unwavering. “I, Grover Underwood, heir of Pan and Lord of the Wild, request a formal audience with the King of the Seas.”

The dolphin tilted its head in consideration, as if to appraise Grover of his resolve before it let out an exasperated sigh.

“My Lord is a busy god. Especially as of late. But I will pass along the message to Lord Triton to deliver to him.” the dolphin relayed.

Grover bowed, face untensing in relief. “Thank you Lord Delphin. Your assistance is appreciated.”

The mammalian god scoffed, his tail lightly kicking up a spray of water. “Don’t thank me yet kid. The entire Atlantean royal family is…displeased at the moment. And Lord Poseidon is…worried. Amongst other things. And until he gets some answers he isn’t likely to pay your request any mind for a while.”

Grover nodded grimly, though Annabeth could feel her heart starting to race.

Did Grover sense that something was wrong? Was that why he was trying to reach Percy’s father? Had he already tried contacting her mother? Or Camp Jupiter?

Better yet, did that mean that their parents did know what was going on and that they were trying to help?

Annabeth didn’t want to let herself hope that was the case.

“Still. You’re the best shot I have right now.” Grover exclaimed, suddenly looking worn-down and wary.

Annabeth wished she could give her obviously stressed-out friend a hug, but it didn’t seem like either of them would be getting what they wanted for a while yet.

Delphin gave Grover a slow nod before leaping into the air and diving back down into a deeper part of the coast and disappearing from sight.

As the eye started winking out, Annabeth just managed to catch her friend’s faint whisper amidst the crashing waves.

“Percy, Annabeth. Where are you two?”

As her surroundings went dark once again, the abject frustration that had been building ever since the dream began finally started spilling over.

Though Annabeth’s screams were meaningless in a place where sound did not exist.

The entire dream was a joke.

And honestly, by this point she really should have known better (Hope was the last to die after all).

Gifts from the gods always carried a price with them.

While Annabeth could experience all the goddess’ eyes and ears, she had no access to the most important part.

The mouth.

Pheme’s so-called ‘gift’ was nothing more than a new method of torture disguised underneath layers of shiny paper and a pretty little bow.

The goddess was dangling a juicy carrot in front of her only to yank it away whenever she deemed fit.

And Annabeth knew the goddess wasn’t done with her just yet.

That there was still more for her to see.

As if reading her mind (which, in all likelihood was probably the case), Annabeth was once again transported to yet another location of the goddess’ choice.

Flinching at the sudden flash of light and colors returning to the sense deprived void she was in, Annabeth felt her heart leap at the achingly familiar wooden patio of the Big House.

“The accusations are completely unfounded!” Chiron proclaimed, his front hoof stamping in his anger as he glared down at the lounging form of Mr. D.

The god scoffed, taking a sip of his diet coke. “Are they though? It’s hardly a secret that you’ve spoiled the girl rotten. Many on the Council suspect you of having looked the other way. Intentionally obfuscating the truth to protect her.”

Spoiled?! Her?! Annabeth snarled, before shaking her head and telling herself that it was just Mr. D being Mr. D and to ignore his absurd and intentionally insensitive commentaries like she usually did.

“Annabeth Chase is, and always has been, a hero of Olympus.” Chiron sharply retorted, his continued unwavering adamant defense of her a relief that warmed her from head to toe, soothing all the numerous hurts that she’d been accumulating recently.

Though the sheer amount of indignation in his expression worried her. For all that she’d known the centaur he’d always been calm and collected. Even in the face of Kro-The Titan King himself. So to see him so agitated like this was concerning.

Doubly so since it seemed to be concerning her and her honor.

“I don’t know why I bothered.” Mr. D dismissed, his voice blasé as he leaned further back in his lawn chair. “Your habit of avoidance hasn’t changed in centuries. Regardless, it’s out of your hooves now. The Council isn’t interested in what you have to say. Though that isn’t anything new, so that much shouldn’t come as a surprise. And while I’ll agree that the girl is a good hero and overall a good mortal, she’s never been a particularly nice one.”

Annabeth’s chest puffed up in time with her mentor’s.

But before either of them could go off on their own separate rant, Mr. D held up his hand.

“Don’t waste your breath.” Mr. D stated with a harsh finality, his eyes momentarily flashing a deep fiery purple before settling back to their muddy brown. “I’ve been here long before the girl first arrived. I’ve been forced to bear witness to the consequences of the gods’ whims for decades. All demigods have their own flavor of madness. Each getting more intricate and complex as they continue to survive yet another day. Annabelle is hardly any different aside from the fact you’ve consciously ignored the warning signs and let her continue to slowly over-oxidize without bothering to check if the flavors had soured at all.”

Annabeth all but growled at the god’s implication.

She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t!

“Annabeth is not-”

“Madness does not mean insanity.” Mr. D brusquely cut off, rolling his eyes at the centaur. “Perhaps now the Council may take my warnings regarding the current state of their children's minds seriously.”

The god’s omission all but took a majority of the wind right out of Annabeth’s sails. The anger was still there, simmering hot, but she no longer felt the overwhelming impulse to try her hand at seeing if she could poke the god’s eye out with the feather’s calamus.

As a general rule Mr. D was always so callously dismissive that she often forgot that a small fragment of him did actually care about the lot of them somewhat.

An infinitesimally small part, mind you. One that she herself had never seen even a glimpse of despite all her years at Camp (Until now that is).

“I have faith that Annabeth will-”

“Silence.” Mr. D demanded, his eyes once again flaring purple as he sneered in her direction. “The walls have ears.”

For a single terrifying moment thick vines covered in thorns began to wrap themselves around her. Her breath swiftly smothered as she felt the thorns slowly extending their points and spearing her through.

In just a single moment her entire life flashed before her eyes.

Before she was blessedly blinked away.

Annabeth had never been so glad to return to abject nothingness. Her lungs greedily sucking in the oxygen they needed as she frantically inspected her body, half expecting herself to be no better than swiss cheese.

But found nothing.

No blood. No holes. Nothing.

While I hate to have to cut our playtime short, we do still have time for one last stop, Pheme exclaimed, her voice echoing painfully throughout the void.

Before she could bother telling the goddess that she’d seen more than enough, Annabeth found herself twisting and weaving through gigantic gears, pins, springs, and tumblers before slipping through a grove in a cylinder and out into an expansive blindingly white tiled room filled with long stone benches.

Feather-beth circled past a ten-foot tall alabaster statue of a woman that she was certain was meant to portray the goddess Hygeia and down towards the open metal door to the statue’s right.

Before blowing through the crack in the door Annabeth caught the words written on the two electronic sign boards above the door frame.

The Doctor is:

On probation.

Now serving number 0000001

Asclepius, Annabeth realized. I must be at the Asclepeion.

Annabeth soon found herself fluttering down a long hallway towards a walnut door adorned with a bronze plaque.

Asclepius

MD, DMD, DME, DC, DVS, FAAN, OMG, EMT, TTYL, FRCP

ME, IOU, OD, OT, PHARMD, BAMF, RN, PHD, INC., SMH

Annabeth couldn’t help but snort a bit at some of the more ridiculous initialisms on the list. She’d thought Leo had been kidding when he’d recounted to the rest of the seven what happened in the underground hospital, but she should have figured that the son of Hephaestus wasn’t over-embellishing the tale (too much). A god claiming OMG and BAMF as an abbreviation of a title to their name was no different than Hecate thinking that Halloween was a holiday in celebration to her.

Wiggling underneath the door, Annabeth found herself in a surprisingly normal looking doctor’s office containing bookshelves lined with medical texts of varying ages and different anatomical models scattered throughout the room.

Sitting in the doctor’s chair was the god Asclepius himself, looking significantly healthier and less terrified than when she, Percy and Grover had seen him last almost a year ago when he’d requested their help in exchange for Percy’s final recommendation letter.

Though to be fair it was less of a quest and more Percy somehow having to convince the King of the Gods to not revoke the God of Medicine's apparently conditional status as a deity. (She still wasn't sure how Percy had managed to pull that one off. Making all who knew the ingredients of the Physician's Cure swear an Oath on the River Styx not-withstanding, the King of the Gods didn’t exactly have the best track record for listening to reason the last century or so.).

Though the godly doctor’s current expression was a worryingly somber one.

“The prognosis?” a familiar voice inquired.

From the angle Annabeth couldn’t see who was sitting in one of the two patient’s chairs in front of the large maple desk at the end of the room, the backrest completely blocking them from her view.

Asclepius frowned, running a hand nervously through his salt and pepper hair before letting out a deep sigh. “Not the one Percy would prefer, I'm afraid.”

Annabeth couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. Percy?! He’s here?!

A burst of manic desperation surged forth, clawing and tearing its way out of her chest as her currently incorporeal form began to shake uncontrollably.

Percy was close. He was so close.

“A poetic tragedy. One Melpomene will delight in, I’m sure” another voice solemnly mused.

Though this one she immediately recognized.

Apollo, Annabeth sneered.

“Otherwise my son is well?” the other voice inquired warily.

Son.

Poseidon, Annabeth realized with a shock. That’s why the voice sounded so familiar.

“If you mean his past injuries I’m afraid that damage has already been dealt.” Asclepius stated matter-of-factly, causing Annabeth’s heart to leap into her throat.

Injuries?! Percy was hurt?!

“That being said, none of them should have any bearing on things moving forward.” Asclepius continued, completely unaware of the emotional whiplash he was dealing out to her. “So long as Percy follows the modified diet plan I provided to you then he should be just fine…Physically speaking that is.”

She was going to have to steal a copy of the plan somehow before she and Percy absconded to Alaska.

“Dad?”

Annabeth’s heart immediately started thundering at the sound of her boyfriend’s voice. Beating so hard she was sure it would break through her ribs.

Percy, Annabeth exhaled in relief. Tears unbidden started welling up in the corners of her eyes.

But instead of the feather turning to bring her boyfriend within her line of view something more horrific happened.

The eye started to close.

No! Annabeth screeched. No! No! No! 

Not now! Not when I’m so close!

Apparently Pheme didn’t hear, nor care if she did.

For the first time Annabeth realized how Tantalus must have felt when he’d finally grabbed that burger after thousands of years of starvation, only to be immediately sent back to the Underworld before having a single taste.

Annabeth screamed and cursed in every language she knew.

English. Greek. Latin. French.

At this point, Annabeth didn’t care whether or not she offended the goddess who was currently holding her at her mercy.

Though much to Annabeth’s aggravation, judging from the melodious trumpeting giggles echoing through the void the goddess seemed more amused than offended.

Sorry~, the goddess exclaimed, sounding distinctly not sorry at all as they were once again gliding through picturesque skies. But we’ve detoured long enough. It’s time I brought you to my father.

Annabeth was about to continue cursing the goddess’ name and existence when the words finally finished processing in her mind.

Father.

That meant-

The world went black.

She has boarded the flight for New York, Martha hissed. Sounding pleased as she coiled atop the small antenna.

Hermes waved his hand through the rainbow mists surrounding him, the calls dissipating with the speakers none-the-wiser to his presence.

“Then everything is going exactly as planned.” he replied, unsurprised in the slightest.

Like a rat in a cage, George hissing in response as he coiled around his wife. Can I eat her?

“You’d get indigestion.” Hermes scoffed, tapping and scrolling through his caudecus' cellular form with a speed that would leave even his brethren cross-eyed.

She doesn’t deserve the honor of dying by our hand, Martha snarled.

“No she doesn’t.” Hermes hummed in agreement. His hand tightening around his compacted symbol of power as his eyes darkened from their usual sky blue to an overcast blue-gray. “Even that would be granting the girl a more fitting end to her story than she deserves.”

“And she deserves n̷̢̫͕̳̻̓̃̿̑ȍ̷͎̳̗̟ẗ̵̠̖̜̪́͌̿͝h̶̖̳̺͙̦́ì̵̡̮̩͛n̸̗͇̎ğ̷̨̪̬̟̍.̴̲̥̝̾̇”

Rage, no, wrath caused his form to flicker from something tangible to something that could not be perceived.

He was the dirt of the ground, the pavement beneath their wheels. The fuel in the engines both high and low. The currency in their bags. The cards they were swiping. He was the whisper of wiles and the temptation of thieves. The conductor guiding souls away from their corpses and caskets. Every call, every letter. Every message and google search. He was their words. Their very connection to one another. Their entertainment, their livelihood, and the reason they could go from one place to another.

For the barest of moments, only seconds really, a span of time negligible for him but devastating for those that had descended from the beings that had given his conceptual existence a tangible form.

Only seconds.

And yet stocks had plummeted. Trains halted. Traffic bumper to bumper. Credit cards declined. Thieves were caught. Souls left to wander. The world screamed out in indignation as calls fizzled out and search engines failed. Audiences booed as their favorite players struck out and missed their shots. Tellers panicked as their systems went down. Shepherds ran after fleeing sheep.

But perhaps the most terrifying of all, for a moment, just a moment…Nobody could say anything at all.

“Calm yourself Eriounês”

Hermes’ scattered consciousness collectively jolted for the barest of milliseconds at the sudden evocation before recoiling into the equivalent of a vindictive snarl at the invoker’s audacity.

But the words had already achieved their intended effect.

“Alalkomenêis”

Athena merely stood posed as girder in her full war dress, her nose turned up as she remained uncompromising in her stance. Unconcerned with the venom in the echoes of the god’s essence around her and appearing more at ease than perhaps she should have felt. Though her pompous expression achieved its intended effect, redirecting Hermes' rage to her instead of the world at large.

Hermes forced his form back into something more solid, muttering curses in the ancient language about how he was certain that the only reason his sister was forcibly expunged into the mortal world was because her own head got too big to be contained within their father’s own abnormally large cranium.

With a new target to focus his ire upon, the disparate parts of the messenger coalesced into lithe muscles and perfect proportions. His outer shell of scales, imperceptible to the mortal eye, mimicking human skin was impossibly smooth and flawless as it turned a tanned brown that would shimmer like cleanest of drachma in the light.

His appendages were next to take shape. Two arms, two legs, ten fingers and toes, and two large hawk-like forelimbs sprung from his back. His remiges cascading down into his primaries and secondaries in a checkered black, brown, gray, and white ripple. His expression took on the elvish features all his mortal children inherited from him. Pointed ears, a sharp nose, upturned eyebrows, and a mischievous smile that screamed trouble and yet couldn’t help but draw in victims with its intrigue and mystery. His lips curled around snake-like fangs as the pupils of his sky blue irises morphed into that of a slit. Small ram horns curled atop his temples, almost hidden by the mass of curling light brown hair reminiscent of the color of kicked up dirt roads.

Strawberry vines and crocus flowers wrapped themselves around his lower arms from his wrists to his elbows. His winged helmet and sandals adorned as they should be, with a chiton of silver, gold, and bronze melted together and a chlamys of rustic brown wrapped around his torso.

The world breathed out a sigh of relief as Hermes eased into something that seemed to soothe the more primal parts of himself that were usually left hidden behind too short track shorts and an unflattering mailman’s uniform.

“You dare invoke my name in such a way?” Hermes challenged with an affronted shriek, his cry echoing in the expanse as Athena's form morphed from the false skin conceived by the mortals into something more honest. Her essence blending together with the very concepts she upheld, transforming her physical form, like him, into a visage only reminiscent of the humans they created.

Sharp talons wrapped delicately around the shaft of her spear. Small rounded wings sprang from her back, undulating as the dark browns and grayish-browns of her base feathers rippled into the cream and brown spots and bars decorating her flight feathers. Her skin was not skin, but rather concepts that had been tightly weaved together. From the parts of her that were left uncovered by her light gray chiton and red chlamys, Hermes could see that her arms were a patchwork resembling the softest quilts, smoothly fired clay, sanded wood, and welded metals. With her very veins the threads binding each of the crafts together. And her armor wasn't armor at all. The metal seamlessly a part of her very form, not unlike the exoskeleton of an ant. A wreath of olive tree leaves weaved themselves within the braid of her black hair, encircling her head like a crown. Rounded owl-like eyes glared up at his hovering form, the iris’s a mass of threatening storm clouds swirling as endlessly as her own calculating mind. The only tangible proof of her heritage as not only the daughter of the Astrapaios, but one of the elder Okeanides.

“Father is in a less than tolerant mood. More so than usual.” Athena apprised, her words interlaid with the sound of chitters and the scratch of quill to parchment. “You would do well not to test his patience. Nor our Uncle’s.”

“Do you take me for a fool?” Hermes hissed. “Do not waltz your way into my Temple’s gardens and pretend that your sole intention wasn’t just to ensure that your precious little owlet did not meet her demise plummeting thousands of feet into the soils below!”

“You want her to suffer do you not?” Athena queried, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “I hardly think such a swift death constitutes-”

“Do not play your games of deceit with me, sister.” Hermes warned, his form flickering at its edges once again. “Your daughter isn’t the only one whose arrogance needs tempering.”

Overcast skies met swirling vortexes as the sound of agitated wings ruffled in both fury and in indignation. Gust fronts met developing jet streams as wing beats grew harsher in rhythm.

“You claim it is I who is arrogant when you-”

“Ah ah ah.” Hermes vindictively cut off, unashamedly wagging his digit at his sister as if she were a newly conceptualized misbehaving godling. “You’ve had your time in our father’s ear. Lording over all of us from your little throne as his favored child. But it’s our time to talk now. And unless you wish to suffer our father’s favorite punishment, I wisely suggest you focus on the matters ahead.”

Athena’s mouth clicked shut. Her withering glare only caused the younger god to preen in smug satisfaction at having successfully silenced her. Even briefly.

“Not so easy being on the other side of his ire now is it?” Hermes derided, his fangs barred with the rest of his teeth.

“Father is merely wisely investigating all potential variables and concerns.” Athena sniped, though a bitter note within her chitters could be heard. “He will soon see that they are unfounded.”

“Are they, though?” Hermes baited, fluttering insolently around the warrior goddess’ head as if she wasn’t calculating the right time to stab out at his wings with her spear.

“You sound fairly confident in that despite having read what we did. Having seen and heard what you have thus far.” Hermes contested as he ceased his hover. The soles of his winged shoes meeting the marble of his pavilion once more, scoffing at the goddess’s narrowed expression. “Come now, it's hardly a secret to anyone that you’ve been watching. In fact it’s the number one show right now on Hephaestus TV.”

Athena jabbed her spear at the younger god. Not to harm, but to warn. Should he continue to overstep the thin line in the sand, War would not be content with maintaining its defensive position.

Quick-footed, Hermes stepped gracefully back on his heel, jumping up before settling upside down on the edge of the cornice in the mockery of a thinker's pose.

“The only question now is how it will end.” he chirped, a mischievous grin making its way onto his face.

But it was not Athena he turned to face.

“I think that’s enough of a preview for now.” Hermes declared, the mischievous glint in his slitted eyes turning malicious as a forked tongue slid along the edges of his fangs as he turned in her direction. “It’s time for you to wake up now, little demigod.”

“The tests are about to begin.”