Heroes of Olympus Series. Annabeth Chase X Male Reader Story

Narrowly Avoiding Bedazzling Ourselves

They kept going, one step at a time. Annabeth's eyes stung with sweat. Her arms trembled. But to her amazement, they finally made it to the bottom of the cliff. When she reached the ground, she stumbled. (Y/N) caught her.

She was alarmed by how feverish his skin felt. Red boils had erupted on his face, so he looked like a smallpox victim. Her own vision was blurry. Her throat felt blistered, and her stomach was clenched tighter than a fist.

We have to hurry, she thought. "Just to the river," she told him, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "We can do this." "Yeah, watch out Phlegethon here we come." (Y/N) said tiredly, it wasn't pronounced correctly, but it did make her smile.

"We have to drink," Annabeth said. (Y/N) glanced at her, "Easier said than done, stay here, I'll go-" He began, "No." Annabeth said, fighting to keep her eyes open, "We do it together."

He seemed perplexed by this, but nodded, "Okay." He said, not questioning why. The real reason was simple. She didn't know if she'd even make it to the river on her own, they were so close, but it felt miles away.

(Y/N) was handling the heat better than her, but not by much, they were both struggling, so exhausted they could barely stay awake. During their fall into Tartarus, they were unable to sleep for about nine days.

Now it felt as if they were faced with the mother of all jetlag, the adrenaline from the Cocytus and Scylla was the only thing that kept them up but that was wearing off fast. "Keep talking." (Y/N) suggested.

"About what?" Annabeth asked, barely forming the words. He swayed, his eyes half-closed. It took him a three-count to respond. "Uh...the river of fire?" He shrugged as Annabeth searched her mind for facts. "The Phlegethon flows from Hades's realm down into Tartarus."

Annabeth could barely talk. Her throat was closing up from the heat and the acidic air. "The river is used to punish the wicked. But also...some legends call it the River of Healing."

" Some legends? How many legends could there be about this place." (Y/N) questioned rhetorically, Annabeth swallowed, trying to stay conscious. "The Phlegethon keeps the wicked in one piece so that they can endure the torments of the Fields of Punishment."

"The Underworld equivalent of ambrosia and nectar." (Y/N) said, he winced as cinders sprayed from the river, curling around his face. They staggered over slick glass ledges, around massive boulders, avoiding stalagmites that would've impaled them with any slip of the foot.

Their tattered clothes steamed from the heat of the river, but they kept going until they crumpled to their knees at the banks of the Phlegethon. "But how do we do this, what's the best way to drink from the river?" (Y/N) asked, looking around for a bank they could sit on.

"Like this." Annabeth said, attempting to thrust her hands into the river. Stupid? Yes, but she was convinced they had no choice. If they waited any longer, they would pass out and die. Better to try something foolish and hope it worked.

He caught her hand before she made contact. "Rookie mistake." He said with a tired smirk as he barely remained upright, "I can't believe I'm telling you of all people this, but don't be so rash."

"That is, unless you want to spend the rest of your life with bedazzled knees, I suggest we pull those out first." He pointed to her legs, she looked down, now realizing that the small shards of glass were still in her.

"We don't have time, I can't...I can barely..." She apparently couldn't think and could barely form a sentence. "I know, I know." He told her to stay put, went over to the river, dipped two fingers in and then unceremoniously flicked it at her.

When the water droplet hit her skin, it was as if someone had just thrown a lit match at her. She hissed in pain, but at the same time her head felt clearer. "That's just to keep you awake. Won't heal you too much." She glared at him, "Gee, thanks."