The Arranged Marriage (Percy Jackson Fanfiction)

Ten

Annabeth dropped her fork onto her plate, laughing. She covered her mouth when a snort escaped her; she blushed down to her neck.

Percy laughed even harder, his green eyes pinning her in her seat, a flower opening in her stomach, expanding it's petals to brush her ribs lightly. The sensation made her squirm in her seat. What was it? She stopped laughing, stood up, said, "I have to go, I'll see you later," all in one breath, and sent her chair screeching across the ground, leaving a bewildered Percy in her wake.

Annabeth rushed out of the pavilion, bumping into an old man on the way. She stopped to steady the man, apologizing profusely, but he simply grinned, patted her on the shoulder and was on the way, whispering to himself, "Children, in such hurries these days," on his way. Annabeth couldn't conceal a smile as she bustled towards the shore, the wind whipping at her face, the warmth of the summer air blanketing her as she went. Approaching the docks, Annabeth breathed in the ever-welcoming scent of the sea, and the peaceful sounds of the waves lapping at the shore. The blue sky met the blue water in a clash of different shades of blue, an explosion of beauty—beauty that seemed only apparent in Crete.

Annabeth, though she missed her maids, Piper and Hazel, and her guards, Frank and Leo, did not miss Athens. She did not miss her mother. She did not miss her people, as selfish and cruel as it was to say so. She simply didn't miss anything about Athens besides the otherwise beautiful architecture, which was not something Crete didn't have, it was just more subtle. Annabeth suspected she would miss Crete were she forced to leave like she so barbarically was in Athens.

Annabeth sighed, draping her legs over the side of the dock, relishing in the relief and calm that set over her as soon as the cool water brushed her feet. Ripples of water spun around her, distorting her reflection, twisting it so the sky was below her and her face was simply a bubble of chaos, mixing with her features. It was somewhat of a stress relief, seeing that the water and sky and trees and fish didn't care that Annabeth was going to be Queen; they treated her just the same as they would anybody else.

Annabeth leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows, letting the light breeze carry her hair off of her shoulders, then drop it back. Sometimes, Annabeth wished that the wind would take her like it took small pieces of grass, paper, or anything else; she would be free. As much as many people thought, Annabeth didn't want to be a queen. What Queen danced around with the rain that thunked onto her window late at night? What Queen could not speak o her mother? What Queen was hated by everybody in half her kingdom?

What Queen was just a child hiding in a woman's body, pretending she was ready for a throne she didn't want?

Annabeth thumped her head on the hard wood of the dock, the pain bringing her back to reality. The reality where she had to face her people, and her betrothed. Sighing, Annabeth didn't move. I'll face everyone, she thought, just not right now. Right now, I relax.

Annabeth trailed her fingers along the surface of the glassy water, delighting when a fish brushed past it, it's slick body tickling her fingers. Annabeth reached into her pocket, smiling triumphantly when her fingers grazed the piece or bread she had stashed for later. She supposed that she didn't need it; she hardly had an appetite anymore. She tore it into pieces and scattered it across the water, laughing at the explosion of movement within the animals.

"I'm sure the fish are pleased," a voice laughed behind her. Annabeth froze. It couldn't be; there was no way they would come there, not then, not ever.

Annabeth looked down at her reflection one more time, the now still water reflecting her horror back at her. Her heart collapsed in on itself and her pulse galloped, her lungs trying to catch up with her sporadic heart palpitations. "What are you doing here?" she breathed, feeling like she was about to pass out, either in fear or in outrage.