Archive of Our Own

Briny wind stings Annabeth’s face as gusts billow over the patchwork ship that is the Argo II, and a noon high sun threatens to bake her at the same time. Her long black dreadlocks are tied back to hang behind her and graze her shoulder blades, not that this wind is strong enough to blow the thick locks anyways. With her hair back, her sharp features could practically cut through the air on their own; a sharp angular face matched with steely gray eyes threaten to cut anyone or anything that gets in her way down. 

She stands tall to the right of the wheel, positioned high in the back open to the elements like any good frigate replica, and with a lazy eye watches the crew work the ship. It’s not that she is lackadaisical in her duties as quartermaster, or bored with her job, but rather that the crew they have now is fairly well behaved. 

It has taken a few years, and more than a few mutinies, but finally there’s a trustworthy group of people aboard. So far, the crew has done well; three solid salvage missions, four successful ship raids, and one small settlement raid. There were issues on every mission, problems and obstacles to overcome, but so far everyone seems healthy and happy. All is so well, the captain is taking an afternoon nap, deeming it well enough to do so.

Which is by no means a bad thing, though it does make her job less than engaging in the middle of the day when there’s no worry over food or drink. So instead of being on deck amongst the crew, she stands here, next to the sailing master. One illustrious Percy Jackson.

Percy’s one of the newer additions to the Argo, having only joined a few months ago, but has already shown an aptitude for the seas that Annabeth has never seen before. She seems to pilot the ship as if she personally knows every detail possible about both the ship and the water around them. More than that, she seems to genuinely enjoy the long days and nights when there’s no floating cities or ships on the horizon. When there’s truly nothing but the ship and the sea.

Like the waves around them, Percy’s hair cascades in wild curls that could not be tamed; the longest of which rests on the nape of her neck on the back and frames her face on the front. She’s fairly lean but muscular, like Annabeth, like most people who have forsaken ‘civilized’ life on floating settlements to sail the open water. Despite her striking figure, the piece of her that truly pierces the soul are her green eyes, as if someone captured the majestic vibrancy of the sea and placed them on her face.

There was something in those eyes that felt primordially… more. Some piece of her that feels odd. A feeling which only has grown with each day Annabeth has spent with her.

“What’s floating around in your head today, dolphin?” Percy asks, breaking Annabeth from her thoughts. As her gaze focuses, she realizes she’s staring right at Percy, completely unintentionally. Percy looks entirely amused by Annabeth’s foggy headedness, and doesn’t even bother to hide the chuckle or shake of her head. 

Annabeth scowls as she realizes her use of that nickname she had decided was apt for her after a mere two days on the ship. Though she doesn’t really feel any anger towards her, after all if there’s one truth about Percy Jackson is that she’s rarely mean-spirited. “I was just thinking that you’ve been on deck for far too long Ms. Jackson.” She tries for a teasing smirk. The threat wouldn’t land on anyone else, but Percy seems to want to spend every moment of every day and night on the deck, feeling the ocean on her skin. 

As expected, Percy’s face drops. “You know, I’m not that tired… I should be fine for another shift, you know.” She chuckles awkwardly, clearly either not trying to hide the lie or just awful at lying. Annabeth blinks, not sure how to respond. Luckily, she doesn’t need to. Percy suddenly whips her head to the portside. “There’s a storm coming.” Her voice is hard in a way Annabeth hasn’t heard before. There’s some other undercurrent there, but Annabeth can’t place what that is.

“What do you mean?” Annabeth looks off the portside, searching for any sign of storms. But there’s nothing on the horizon or nearer. No indication for a tempest. No dark clouds, no rough waters, no shift in the wind, no drop in temperature. She turns back towards Percy with confusion and frustration clear on her face. “There’s nothing–”

“No.” Percy cuts Annabeth off, hands tightening on the wheel as she spins the wheel to send the ship hard to starboard. “Get everyone below deck. This isn’t a normal storm, it’s moving way too fast, right for us.”

Annabeth turns back to the portside as the ship turns, and sees a mass of dark clouds growing steadily on the horizon. “What the fuck is–”

“Obscenities later. Below deck, now.” Percy practically shouts, and then actually does shout. “Everyone below deck!”

Immediately, there’s commotion on the deck; a few of the fresher hands immediately rush towards the stairs down, while most others just pause in their work to look at Annabeth. The quartermaster in question bites her lip as she quickly processes the past half minute. Regardless of the oddity that is Percy Jackson, the truth of the matter is there’s a storm moving rapidly towards the ship and everyone needs to brace. 

But for some reason, Percy wants to send everyone below deck. Which is absolutely the opposite of what they should be doing if they want to survive this storm. Annabeth turns to Percy and makes sure her voice is only heard by the sailing master. “Why do you want to send everyone below deck? We’ll need all hands on deck to keep the ship together if we’re–”

Percy’s glare isn’t deadly, but if looks could kill it would. “I can take care of the ship. No time for questions. Get everyone below deck.”

Despite her better senses, Annabeth trusts Percy about this. She turns to look over the deck, at all the crew that’s assembling closer towards the wheel. “What’re you standing around for? Everyone below deck!” She doesn’t bother to hold back her stern authoritative voice. “I’ve got a plan.” Somehow, she keeps her voice void of the panic and confusion she’s feeling.

That gets everyone moving far more effectively than Percy’s attempt to get everyone to what little bit of safety they have available. She gives Annabeth a nod in thanks, only to quickly squint her eyes in confusion as Annabeth stays anchored to where’s standing. “What’re you doing?” She hisses, loud enough for Annabeth to hear but not the rest of the crew. 

Annabeth glares back, gray eyes locked against green, as the winds suddenly pick up and the ship starts rocking more and more. The bright midday sun is quickly blocked out by clouds as the storm grows ever nearer. “What do you think? I’m helping you.” She finally moves to head towards the steps, but stops at the top of them. “So are you gonna tell me your crazy plan or are we just gonna capsize when we hit rough waters?

“I said I got this. Get below decks.” Percy grunts as she grips onto the wheel and the ship is turned far faster than should be possible. 

“The storm’s practically on us.” Annabeth turns back to the sailing master with a look that screams authority and years of experience. “And I’m sure as shit not leaving all our hopes on one fresh member of the crew without any idea what this magic plan of hers is.”

Percy groans, but before she can say anything Annabeth sees something from the corner of her vision. A wave nearly as half as tall as the main mast suddenly appears portside and threatens to drown the ship. It’s hopeless really. It’s too close to the ship, there’s no way to save themselves from something like this. 

And yet, as quickly as the wave appeared, it splits into two and passes by. Completely missing the ship and its fragile inhabitants. Annabeth blinks once. Twice. Thrice. Frozen in confusion and fear. 

“If you even think of telling anyone about this, I swear on my father’s name I’ll drown you before you can even say my name.” Percy grunts, though the threat doesn’t feel any lesser for the effort it seems to take her to speak.

Annabeth finally unfreezes, turning to look at Percy and seeing something that confuses her even more than the magically parting wave. Instead of her hands on the wheel, Percy is standing on top of the wheel pedestal, perfectly balanced, with her hands outstretched forward and a look of intense concentration on her face. Behind her, the wheel seems to have a mind of its own, turning in small precise movements that Annabeth realizes are adjusting the ship’s position to minimize the impact of waves. As she turns to follow the direction Percy’s hands are outstretched to, her confusion only grows. 

Riggings and sails and masts are moving, all seeming to know exactly what to do, as if sentient and aware of the perfect place for them to expertly manage the storm. The storm which is fully upon them she realizes. There are tidal waves that would easily capsize and rip apart ships twice the size of the Argo II. 

And yet, the ship is safe. 

It’s rocking sure, but not nearly as much as it should given the storm that’s passing all around it. Annabeth turns back to Percy, and see’s the woman in severe strain. Her form is tight and face is scrunched in effort that makes it clear this is all somehow her doing. How, Annabeth has no idea, but she already makes plans to press for details after they’re safe. 

For now, she’ll accept that Percy’s saving the ship from a storm so strong they would have no other means of surviving. So, she shouts over the winds, “What can I do to help?”

Percy blinks, as if surprised by her presence, and quickly shakes her head. “Get below deck. I’ve got this. I’ve handled worse storms. This is barely anything. We just–”

Annabeth opens her mouth to argue that she can help, despite knowing there’s little she could do to aid such a clear and powerful display of whatever Percy is doing. But before she can get a word out, a geyser bursts through the deck between the fore and main mast, splitting the Argo II into two. Bodies fly as screams are lost to the winds and rain seems to grow from torrential to something far worse. It’s sudden, there’s nothing to be done, it doesn’t even matter that the thing that will sink the ship is an impossible act in open waters. 

Not a second later, a second geyser bursts from under the main mast, and a third erupts from just off the starboard side. The ship careens to the side, thrown up and to the side by the explosions of water, as the seas in the immediate vicinity seem to grow angrier. Waves grow even rougher, and winds pick up even more. 

If Annabeth is going to die, dying to the seas what she expected. And so, as she’s thrown to the side and her body flies into the raging waters, she welcomes the blackness that comes with such a hard impact against the water.

The afterlife is far more painful than Annabeth anticipated. Her consciousness returns to her as pain shoots through her very being. It’s as if she spent a full day straight helping on deck, muscles aching down to the bone. She has never been one to shy away from life just because of some aching bones though, so she groggily forces her eyes open.

A vibrant sky of dark blues and purple greets her, creating a gorgeous sight for her to awaken to. As she pushes herself up to sit, she sees a deep orange on the horizon, just barely there to signal the sun’s full departure for the day. Though she barely notices that, instead focused on what she has awoken on. 

Her hands are pushing against a soft gritty ground, which turns out to be sand. Not just the sand used by floating settlements as occasional water barriers, but a full line of pale white sand multiple times as wide as she is tall and long enough to span around this mass she has found herself on. On one side of the sand is open waters, which she is used to, but on the other side is something she has only ever read of in books. 

A forest.

Greenery is rare in this world she has been born into; has been for over a century. There are a few settlements which have full botanical gardens or artificial plots of ‘land’, but for the most part, there are just cheap artificial means of producing foods that are edible and nutritional. All of this means that the sight in front of Annabeth makes even less sense to her than the sand under her body. 

She could –and probably would– stare at the colors and textures of the forest that are all so foreign to her for the rest of her life. 

From her left a form she had somehow overlooked groans. Annabeth’s body immediately tenses, hand reaching for her trustworthy dagger, as she quickly scrambles to her feet. She’s standing, blade drawn and pointing at the form, when she realizes it’s Percy. She would recognize the other woman anywhere, and apparently that includes wherever this is.

Percy groans again as her sea-green eyes flutter open. She grunts and groans, pushing herself up to hold herself up with her hands behind her. “What the fuck happened?”

Annabeth lowers her knife, but doesn’t sheathe it again; instead unconsciously choosing to idly twirl it in her hand as she stares towards the impossible forest. This is probably not the afterlife if she’s here with Percy of all people. Though how they could have survived the storm and shipwreck and ended up here is a mystery. Especially when there’s no signs of the rest of the wreckage or crew. Surely it’s not just the two of them that landed here specifically.

And where even is here. It sure looks like the ‘land’ described in books and stories, the ‘land’ that was lost to flooding long before Annabeth was born. But that’s impossible. Surely someone would have found this by now. There are still satellites. Still hundreds of thousands of ships and settlements and people. 

“Woah…” Percy murmurs, finally aware enough to take in their surroundings apparently. She clears her throat and then speaks louder. “I take it back, bigger question, where are we?” 

Annabeth chuckles emptily, “Wish I could tell you Ms. Jackson… I have no clue.” 

“Come on now, we’re not on the Argo anymore, you can finally call my Percy can’t you?” Percy teases, a grin obvious in her voice despite Annabeth not looking at her. 

With a raised eyebrow, Annabeth turns back to inquisitively stare Percy in the eye. “I’ll call you Percy if you tell me what in the seas that was back on the ship.”

Percy sheepishly rubs the back of her neck and looks to the side, down the beach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh don’t bullshit me.” Annabeth rolls her eyes, but smiles a sickeningly sweet smile. “Ms. Jackson.” When Percy doesn’t say anything more, Annabeth rolls her eyes and lets her smile fall as she turns to look at the treeline. “Well, if you’re not willing to explain yourself. I suppose I’ll be on my way.” 

Without another word, she starts trudging through the sand towards the forest. Or rather, stumbles towards the forest. She literally never has been on stable ground in her life, and the uneven shifting nature of dry loose sand does little to help her. Behind her, she hears Percy scramble after her, only doing a little better at walking.

As the sand gives way to dirt and grass –another marvel that could be stared at and studied for decades if Annabeth had the time and patience– it becomes marginally easier for the two to walk. Percy finally steps in line with Annabeth, who’s walking slowly as she takes in the alien world around her. “So what’s the plan then dolphin? You always got one right?”

Annabeth can’t help the scowl that instinctually forms at the odd nickname. “I’ve got no idea Ms. Jackson. For now, explore and see if there’s some shelter or inhabitants of this place that can explain where we are.” She stops in front of a tall tree, studying its bark with interest. It looks so different from the trees that are developed on floating cities, so much hardier and rougher.

“So… You don’t have a plan then…” Percy mutters, stopping a few feet behind Annabeth.

“You have something better Ms. Jackson? Maybe something involving the magical powers you showcased on the ship earlier?” Annabeth glances back at the other woman, curiosity heavy in her expression.

“Ugh.” Percy groans, “You’re really not gonna drop it are you?” Annabeth shakes her head, to which Percy groans again, like a petulant child. “Fine.” She sighs, and fixes a hard stare at Annabeth. “But you have to swear you won’t share this information with anyone… If we ever see anyone else again.”

“I swear, it’ll stay between us.” Annabeth nods with a seriousness that feels comfortable despite the situation. 

Percy takes a deep breath, seeming to think for a moment before shaking her head. “What do you know about the ancient Greek myths? They’re from way before the floodings.”

There are no words Percy could have said that would have rocked Annabeth’s world more than those. Because that being the start to Percy’s explanation actually explains everything to Annabeth. Given she has known about the existence of the Greek pantheon since her father told her of her parentage decades ago. 

Annabeth blinks, her mind racing with this new information and the assumptions to be derived from them. “I– I know them, yeah.”

“Good, that’ll make this easier.” Percy nods, either not bothered by or not noticing Annabeth’s state. “Well, they’re real. I’m a daughter of Poseidon. Which gives me certain… abilities while in his domain.”

It makes sense. Perfect sense really. It should have been obvious to Annabeth, though she forces herself to give herself some slack given they were in a crisis when she saw Percy’s powers. Of course other children of the gods exist; she has suspected that for a long time. But she never would have guessed they’d have actual abilities from their divine parentage. 

“Annabeth?” Percy waves a hand in front of Annabeth, startling her from her thoughts. After a second, once Annabeth’s eyes are focused on her, she continues. Her brow is scrunched, with one brow slightly higher than the other, in a concern Annabeth isn’t used to seeing. “You okay? You kinda spaced there.”

Instead of saying something intelligent or insightful, Annabeth finds her first thought is “Why the fuck do you get magic powers?” Immediately, her face heats up in embarrassment and she’s sure she’s more red than a patch of coral. She clears her throat and looks away before Percy can react. “I… I mean, that’s an interesting story, but–”

She’s cut off by Percy bursting out laughing, her arms clutching her stomach as she bows over. It only takes a few seconds for her to calm down, but that’s enough time for Annabeth to huff and start walking away. Percy quickly catches up to her though. “Sorry. Sorry. It’s just… Of all the reactions I expected from telling the smartest, most logic based-woman I’ve ever met about my dad, it definitely wasn’t a pout and whining about her not having powers.”

Despite herself, Annabeth looks at Percy, to see an openly apologetic but also mirthful smirk on her face. For some reason, she finds herself nodding in acceptance of the apology and smiling too. “Well, I still think it’s dumb that you got powers from your dad and I didn’t get anything.”

“Wait what?” Percy blinks in confusion for a moment before looking gobsmacked. “You’re a demigod?! Who’s your dad?” She runs in front of Annabeth and forces her to stop, while holding her hands up in a dramatic display.

This time, Annabeth doesn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes, and lets her annoyance at the assumption show. “A historian…” At Percy’s confused frown, she scoffs. “What, just cause I’m a demigod my dad had to be the god in the relationship.”

“No…” Percy drags out, blinking in surprise for some reason before shaking her head. “No. But the way you talked about me getting my powers from my dad and you not getting any kinda implied it was your dad that was a god.”

Huh. 

Maybe Annabeth was a bit quick to get offended there. She rears back in shock at Percy’s reasoning. “Fair enough… Sorry.” Annabeth sighs. “My mother’s Athena. Goddess of battle strategy and wisdom and crafts from what I could tell.”

Percy tilts her head in confusion. “What’d you mean by that? Didn’t she tell you?”

That shocks Annabeth more than anything else from this conversation. Why would Percy think Annabeth has talked to her mother? Unless… “No. Have you? Talked with your dad I mean.”

With a nod that feels a little patronizing, Percy only seems more confused. “Yeah? All the time.” She squints at Annabeth. “Have you really never talked to your mom?”

Suddenly Annabeth is done with this conversation. The way Percy sounds so pitying and sad for Annabeth is just too much. Annabeth Chase is a lot of things, but someone to pity is not one of them. So, she sidesteps Percy and continues walking. “No, I have no reason to.” Hopefully her voice is more steady and sure than she feels.

Thankfully Percy doesn’t press, and the two walk in silence for a while, not really having a plan beyond explore and find shelter. The hours tick by as the forest seems to spread endlessly. They don’t even seem to find any landmarks, the land is as flat as a ship’s deck. 

By the point they spot something different, night has fully fallen and they’re left to walk by the full moon’s light. It’s actually the night that helps them see the lights through the dark shadows of the trees. And when they get close enough to tell what they’re approaching, they’re all that more confused.

It’s a house. Every window has warm yellow light spilling out to illuminate the clearing it’s in. The effect is almost magical, and Annabeth feels awestruck by the house. The building looks so different to every other building Annabeth has seen –and she has sailed the world for long enough to see a lot of different building styles. 

Multiple stories tall, perfectly symmetrical with a slanted overhang over its front door, made of rectangular red stones and wood it seems (something that’d be impossible to build on a floating settlement for a number of reasons), a triangular roof, many windows lining every flat wall, and the first sign of any intelligent life they’ve seen here. Somehow, it fits here though, sitting in a random clearing in this forest. 

A strange house in a strange land. 

If it were just her, she probably would stand there staring for the rest of the night. Luckily Percy’s here too. And she apparently isn’t as awestruck as she is. If anything, she looks at it with wary apprehension. “Let’s keep moving… I don’t trust this.” Her voice is low, practically a whisper, as if afraid to raise her voice. 

Annabeth turns to look at the daughter of Poseidon with unveiled confusion on her face. Not just the idea of leaving this magical place behind, but the idea of not taking advantage of the first sign of shelter they’ve found in this place seems asinine. Given how flat and consistent the land has been so far, there’s no guarantee the two could find anything else at all. 

She keeps her voice low to match Percy, but doesn’t bother to hide her incredulity. “What– Why? This is the first… thing we’ve found here. At the very least we gotta raid this place for supplies. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and thirsty as fuck.”

“So am I, but no.” Percy shakes her head but does turn to look at Annabeth. Her face is flat and expressionless, as if a wall to guard herself from something. “I don’t trust this… It’s already fucked that we’re in this magical place; let alone wandering into a clearly magical house and expecting things to not go batshit.”

“You’re being paranoid.” Annabeth rolls her eyes. “It’s just a house. If you want you can stick out here. But I’ll sneak in, grab some food and whatever else might be helpful, and we can–”

“No.” Percy grabs Annabeth’s arm in a death grip. “We shouldn’t even tempt the fates like that. We’ll just have to find something else.”

Annabeth scoffs, and shakes off Percy’s grip. “Look. I get you’re worried. It’s a risk, I know. But if we don’t get supplies, we’re as good as dead. We haven’t even seen anything edible here. Who knows if we’ll find a way to make drinkable water. We need something if we’re gonna survive, even if we don’t use this house as a shelter.”

“There’s clearly lights on!” Percy raises her voice a little, but doesn’t shout per se. “There is something in that house. And I don’t think it’s worth dying immediately just to get a day’s supplies.”

“You never did raids, I get that.” Annabeth retorts, her voice rising to meet Percy’s new level instinctually. “But I’ll be in and out before anyone could know I’m there. Whoever this is is living in the middle of this practically empty place, they probably aren’t aware or guarded against–”

“Actually, I’m very good at keeping an eye on my surroundings.” An old woman’s voice calls out in an accent Annabeth can’t place; immediately cutting Annabeth off. Both Annabeth and Percy spin to look at the house, and see a large hunched figure standing in an open doorway. Light spills around them, making it hard to see any details about the person besides their general large shape. “Please don’t worry. My home is safe for all who stumble across it. Come in, have some bulochka.”

Annabeth has no idea what a bulochka is, but the offering of a drink or maybe food is enough for her to be tempted. But she’s not alone, as she has to remind herself. So she looks at Percy, who was already looking at her it seems. Percy looks frustrated, worried, and wary for a moment, before finally sighing and putting on a friendly face (Annabeth assumes it’s fake given how quickly Percy switched).

So, with a shared nod, the two look back at the house and step into the clearing with a relaxed step that is as engineered as can be. Percy clears her throat and speaks first, which would annoy Annabeth if not for the fact Percy clearly has some experience in these situations. She waves to the figure with a smile. “Hi! Sorry to bother you! Our ship was caught in a storm and we happened to crash here. We don’t want to impose, but would love whatever aid you can offer.”

The figure cackles and steps aside with an arm motioning us in. “Of course dears, please come in, come in.”

With another simultaneous look to each other, the duo walk into the stone and wood house. Annabeth’s eyes have to adjust to their new fully illuminated surroundings. From her side, the person who invited them in, steps further into the house. Once her vision has cleared and she can see the interior properly, she can’t help but feel even more awestruck. 

The walls are horizontally paneled wood planks, with a strikingly eclectic assortment of paintings practically smattered all over. The small entryway only seems to have a small side table and a coat rack for function, and quickly leads to a hallway that’s lined with even more paintings. They all look simultaneously harmonious and highly contrasting; an effect Annabeth can’t help but wonder about. 

Her gaze happens to linger on a painting of a woman, silhouetted against a setting sun, as she stands on the bow of a ship; somehow invoking a sense of adventure and excitement. Beside that is a small group –maybe a family– of two larger mer-people and one smaller mer-person, all treading water with bioluminescent tails and looking away from the canvas towards a speck of a ship on the horizon. Above that is a horizontal painting of a night sky with a black bird barely visible against the dark blue background as it soars amongst the stars. 

Each painting evokes different emotions that leave Annabeth feeling whiplash. And yet she could stand here for the rest of the night just examining each scene. They all just look expertly crafted, with dozens of varying techniques and styles that she’s sure most professional artists couldn’t hope to combine to the success this artist did.

It’s only the figure’s laugh, at the end of the hallway that draws Annabeth back to the present. “Ah, I see you’ve taken a liking to my work.” The figure walks back to Annabeth and Percy –who Annabeth realizes was equally enraptured by the paintings. This time though, Annabeth can clearly see the figure and is only slightly shocked to see an extremely old looking woman. 

Wrinkles upon wrinkles litter her face, with the most around the edges of her eyes and mouth, as if she spent most of her life smiling. Her skin is a pale tone that screams of years spent with little sun. Her features almost seem like caricatures with how large her nose, mouth, and eyes are. As if they’re just on the boundary of what is reasonable for a human being. She’s taller than Annabeth realized, her hip is practically level with Annabeth’s shoulder, and her arms nearly as long as Annabeth’s whole body. 

On top of her head is an enormous conical hat that droops to the side from its sheer size –it easily brushes against the tall ceiling as she moves around. The woman is dressed in matching thick fluffy blue and white pajamas with small chicks, roosters and hens in different cute poses decorating it. Despite the evening dress though, she looks fully alert and awake, meeting Annabeth’s inquisitive gaze with a knowing one.

Beside Annabeth, Percy clears her throat. “Oh, sorry… Did you paint these?”

The woman to Percy with a mischievous smile, as if Percy had just hinted to a grand scheme of the woman’s. “In a way. I made them yes. But enough time wasted. Come. Come. You must have had a hard journey.” With a friendly wave for them to join her, she turns back and walks down the hall.

Annabeth shrugs as she looks at Percy, who rolls her eyes and silently chuckles before following the woman, followed quickly by Annabeth. There are a few closed doors along the way, but the hallway ends a dozen feet later as it spills into a grand space that is easily twice the size of an average home on most floating cities. This house is already far larger than anything Annabeth had ever seen, and this just stands to amplify that fact.

There are three armchairs arranged around a strange gray animal-like rug with a small dark wood table in the center of the room; all simultaneously facing each other and also a stone fireplace that’s against the far wall. Like the hallway, there are a number of paintings against the wooden walls here, but these are far larger than those in the hallway. While those were roughly a couple feet tall, these are easily as tall, or wide, as Annabeth is tall. These also depict entirely different scenes of beauty and wonder; from a golden colored minnow amongst a school of regularly colored minnow, to a small group of people standing upside-down on the sky as they stretch their necks to view rolling waves of a storm. 

The rest of the floorspace seems to be littered with a variety of crafts and knicknacks sitting on a random assortment of tables. Luckily there’s a clear path to the chairs, which the woman gestures to them to sit in with a warm smile that crinkles her eyes and stretches her face. “Please, take a seat. It will take just a moment for me to fetch the bulochka and some tea.” Without another word, she weaves through the tables with practiced ease and walks out down one of the other hallways.

Percy sighs and steps towards one of the chairs. “Well, might as well take advantage of the warmth.” She sighs and closes her eyes; relaxing as if she’s at a spa.

“Please.” Annabeth glares at her, but does follow her lead and settles into the other armchair. “If it were up to– oh this is soft… I don’t think I’ve ever sat on something this nice.” She can’t help but relax against the seat’s plush and plump cushions. 

“If you were gonna say something about me wanting to avoid this place like a rough storm, don’t bother.” Percy says without opening her eyes, her voice soft with pure unadulterated relaxation. “We’re already in the immortal’s house, a crazy powerful one at that if my hunch is correct… We might as well die comfortably.”

Annabeth scowls at Percy, despite the other woman not having her eyes open. “You don’t even know she’s immortal, or that she’s dangerous. Well, more dangerous than any old woman is.” She tacks on with a tilt of her head as she realizes there are plenty of dangers to be worried about without worrying about magic and immortals like Percy is.

“Trust me, if she’s not immortal, I’m a whale in the sky.” Percy monotonously states, clearly unamused by the denial about the woman’s nature. “And all immortals are dangerous. I’ve sure learned that enough times to know.”

Before Annabeth can retort, the woman re-enters the room, this time carrying a small tray of a platter of some baked bread things, some small plates, three teacups, and a steaming teapot. “Here we go then.” She sets the tray on the center table and quickly sets about pouring tea. Once all the cups are full, she plucks one of them –which is comically small in her fingers– and settles into the last chair. “Go on, dearies.”

Hesitantly, Percy leans forward and takes a cup, which Annabeth mirrors a moment later just because of the chance of poisoning. It’s only once the woman has sipped the drink, does Annabeth do the same. She has never been a big fan of tea –the flavors never feel rich enough for her taste– but this is probably the best tea she has ever had. It’s sweet and smooth and rich with a spiced flavor she has never had before. 

Annabeth’s so lost in enjoying the flavor, she almost misses Percy clearing her throat. “This is pretty nice. Thank you, miss…”

“Oh, where are my manners?” The woman’s shoulders shake with a laugh. “You may call me Baba Yaga, or Baba if long names aren’t your preference.” She tilts her head inquisitively as she looks between the duo. “And what might your names be?”

Again Percy speaks up. “Percy, and that’s Annabeth.” Annabeth’s a little miffed that Percy spoke up first, and gave their real names at that. 

Baba nods with a smile. “Well, I am most curious to hear your tales, but first please help yourselves to my bulochka. It’s a bit of a secret recipe and I’m always elated to be able to share it with those who stumble upon my home.” She waits patiently, expectantly.

Given no socially acceptable choice, and frankly a little curious about these buns, Annabeth plucks one from the tray. It’s soft, and rolled into a knot with some sort of spread filling that smells a little fruity –though she doesn’t recognize what specific fruit it might be. With a cautious bite, she’s gifted with a rich and savory flavor that has her going in for another bite before she has even finished swallowing the first.

She practically moans as she smiles at Baba. “Mmm, this is delicious!” She then looks to Percy to see the woman frowning at the bread; as if it were going to stab her. 

Despite her seeming reluctance, Percy also takes a bite a moment later –when she realizes the others are watching her. “Oh fuck. This is amazing… I totally understand keeping the recipe secret, I would hoard this for myself if I could make something this good.”

Baba chuckles warmly, “I think of it less as hoarding and more of keeping it safe for only those that need it.” She shakes her head after a second. “Anywho, please, tell me your tales. How did you find yourselves stumbling into my home?”

Percy hesitates, which Annabeth takes as an opportunity to speak instead. In between bites of this amazing bulochka thing and sips of the tea of course. “Our ship encountered an extremely violent storm, and we wrecked on this… land… a while away from here. Percy and I were selected to search for anything that might help us recover and set sail again. And, after far more walking than I anticipated, we spotted the lights from your lovely home.”

With a look that almost feels too curious to be entirely well meaning, Baba nods. “Well, I doubt I could provide much to help an entire ship’s crew; but I can certainly give you whatever help I can offer to you two in particular. After all, you two found my home, not your whole crew.” The last part is tacked on, as if to make clear that Baba is doubtful.

Annabeth nods in gratitude regardless, afterall, there isn’t really a crew that needs help –or at least a crew that she knows the location of so that she can help in any way shape or form. “Thank you Baba, that is already so much more than we could hope for… This place is very…” She trails off while trying to come up with a nice but accurate descriptor for the mythical-ness that land feels. 

“Magical.” Percy chimes in between nibbles of her third bulochka. “And its existence should be impossible.” Annabeth instantly shoots her a glare, absolutely taken aback by the bluntness of her words. 

Baba laughs from her belly though, finding something far too funny in that choice of words apparently. “You’re not wrong dear.” She calms herself down and smirks into her tea cup. “You might say I do not live in a normal land.”

Percy quirks an eyebrow. “I’d go so far as to say there’s nothing normal in this land, at least not in the mortal human sense.”

If eyes could literally pierce steel, Baba Yaga’s eyes would with how sharp her gaze is as it sets on Percy. Her pupils widen to overtake the brown of her eyes, which somehow is enough to give her face a far more monstrous appearance. Her large features on her face just look… off now. Her smile stretches more than should be possible, and her nose almost looks longer and sharper.

It’s about now that Annabeth really grasps what Percy meant when she said Baba Yaga is probably a powerful figure. 

Despite all that though, Baba’s voice is calm and just as layered in kindness as before. “You would again not be wrong dear. Though I do hope you can realize that does not mean the denizens of this realm are your enemy.”

Seeing an opening for her to jump back into the conversation, Annabeth tries to shoot for nonchalant as she snatches another bulochka and probably misses by a mile. “Can you be sure? Or can we for that matter?”

“Of course you can trust me, Annabeth.” Baba says with such a reassuring wisdom that Annabeth can’t help but want to believe it wholeheartedly. 

While Annabeth finds herself nodding along in agreement, Percy clears her throat. “It would go a long way if you didn’t try to charm us, you know?”

Baba chuckles with a shrug as if to say ‘what can you do?’ while Annabeth doesn’t know what would be wrong with the old woman being charming. Baba takes a sip of her tea and then looks at Percy intently for a moment. “If we’re ready to get serious.” Baba’s voice is far more stern now, the smile on her face drops to a harsh line. “Tell me your tale, and I will decide what I shall bestow upon you.”

“Bestow what on us?” Percy immediately shoots back, having set her food and tea cup down. Her voice and body language also scream ‘business mode’ though it’s far less unsettling than Baba’s. 

“That’s for me to decide, and you to learn Percy Jackson.” Baba barely moves as she studies Percy’s response. Not that Percy is reacting in any particular way from what Annabeth sees.

Annabeth feels her annoyance at this whole conversation reach a peak, and before she can help herself she scoffs. “And what if we just leave?”

“You’re welcome to try.” Baba shrugs, shifting her attention to Annabeth. Annabeth barely suppresses the shiver she gets at staring down the old woman. “You’ll soon find none leave this land without some form of help.”

Another cryptic answer that frustrates Annabeth enough for her to snap, but luckily before she can, Percy chimes in. “Fine. What do you mean by ‘tell our tales’?” She makes air quotes as Baba turns back to her.

“Just that.” Baba gestures to the two of them with a casual gesture that makes her long arms flex in unnatural ways that Annabeth can’t help but be mesmerized and horrified by. “Tell me about yourselves, both of you. And I shall bestow that which I deem fitting for the pair of you.”

Percy catches Annabeth’s gaze as Annabeth turns to look at her; Percy’s expression being as hesitant and reluctant as Annabeth has ever seen. Annabeth isn’t sure what to think, so her expression is probably less than steadfast and helpful. With pursed lips, Percy sighs and looks at Baba Yaga with resigned acquiescence. “Fine. I’ll start… If you swear on the Styx to not do anything to us without our explicit permission.”

For the first time, Baba looks surprised, but the look of shock is quickly overtaken by an amused chuckle. “My, it has been quite some time since I’ve been asked for that oath. Well, if you insist.” She takes a breath. “I swear on the River Styx that I, Baba Yaga, shall not do anything to either Annabeth Chase nor Percy Jackson without their explicit permission in regards to my request for their tales.”

With an expectant motion, Baba raises an eyebrow towards Percy. Now it’s Percy’s time to take a deep breath, and settle back into her seat. She seems to pointedly only look at Baba, and avoid looking slightly to her right towards Annabeth. “I take it you want my whole tale?” Baba nods, and Percy nods as if she expected that. 

Percy goes on to spin a tale Annabeth can barely fathom at all. Apparently, Percy grew up with her mom –an angel of a woman if Percy’s to be believed– on a small settlement in the north Atlantic, before the two were kicked off thanks to Percy’s daughter of Poseidon powers being mostly uncontrolled back then. Of course the people didn’t know Percy was using magic powers, they just thought she was actively bursting pipes and destroying parts of the settlement somehow.

Her and her mother apparently moved from settlement to settlement for a while before Poseidon showed up a week after Percy’s twelfth birthday with the offer of a lifetime. According to Percy, her mother was given the offer of living in Atlantis around when Percy was conceived, but had refused for reasons Percy wouldn’t get into. When Poseidon offered again though, Percy urged her mother to accept, and the two were quickly taken to their new undersea dwelling. 

While Percy was able to get proper training and grow close to her half-siblings (both demigod and god), her mother became close with both Poseidon and his wife, Amphitrite. Apparently by the time Percy reached adulthood, she was by far the strongest child Poseidon ever had; and her mother had started a polyamorous relationship with Poseidon and Amphitrite –which is wild for Annabeth to think of for a number of reasons. The two had fully settled into their lives in Atlantis.

And then things took a turn when a prophecy was revealed which foretold of a child of the gods having to choose between saving or razing Olympus –which Annabeth learns does somehow still exist despite mountains not being a thing anymore. Zeus apparently immediately went after Percy because of how powerful she is, convinced she was the most likely subject of the prophecy. 

At this point, Percy brushes over an entire fucking war Annabeth didn’t even know happened with a simple “it was long and bad” and just says the prophecy was fulfilled and she wasn’t even the one to make the choice. After everything settled down, Percy needed to get away from all things magical and soon returned to the mortal world. Not long after, she joined the Argo II. 

“That was fine for a while, until my egotistical sister decided to throw a storm at the ship, and threw a hissy fit when I said it wasn’t even that big a storm.” Percy continues, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And then we crashed here and found you… That’s pretty much it I think. Unless you’re gonna make me relive and detail out the third Titan war.” She looks at Baba –who has stayed practically as still as a statue this entire time– with the most openly pleading look Annabeth has ever seen on the other woman’s face.

Baba shakes her head. “Oh, no of course not. I have little interest in hearing of yet another war amongst a pantheon of gods. They all start the same, and end the same. And when they eventually don’t, well things change as drastically as they did when the world flooded.” She shrugs. 

It takes a second for Annabeth to recognize that Baba has moved her attention to her, given Annabeth has just learned it wasn’t sudden ice caps melting which put the world in the state she has known her entire life; but instead apparently a war amongst gods. Or maybe that a godly war caused the ice caps to melt? She doesn’t really know, but manages to file the questions away for later when she can hopefully ask Percy about it –having what she feels is a reasonable assumption that Percy does know about all things god related.

Annabeth clears her throat to give her an extra second to tuck away her thoughts –on both what Baba just said, and what Percy revealed. “Right… Um, I guess it’s my turn then.” She nods, and starts before Baba can even give an affirmative. “I was born to the goddess Athena, somehow that I don’t really know, I never met her or even knew any other children of the gods before Percy. According to my dad, he and her never did anything except debate and talk about history. But one day, a few weeks after my dad had last seen her, I showed up on his doorstep in a golden crib with a ridiculously long note explaining things. 

“My dad didn’t believe it at first, tried to deny me, but genetically I’m definitely his kid so he was forced to at least take me in.” Annabeth takes a breath. It has never been easy to talk about her childhood, but Percy talked about hers so Annabeth will too. Besides, she doesn’t really have a choice if she wants to leave this land it seems. “I’m not sure if he was ever an attentive or nurturing dad, but by the time I was old enough to remember anything, he was already more focused on his work than me. 

“At some point, he married this woman who just hated me.” Memories flash behind Annabeth’s eyes of countless days and nights being subjected to verbal abuse at the hands of that woman. “Something to do with me being a child of another woman’s or something, I don’t really know. All I know is that she would go out of her way to belittle me, give me all the housework, etc. 

“Then she had twins with my dad, and suddenly I was even more the black seal.” Annabeth’s throat feels a little tight, but with practiced ease she buries the emotion deep in herself. “My dad and my stepmom would dote on them constantly, and my stepmom would just berate me for the smallest of things –with my dad never telling her off of course. 

“Eventually, I decided enough was enough and just left. Stowed away on a ship, and ran away. Did that a few times –bouncing from settlement to settlement, ship to ship– until I ended up on the Argo.” For the first time in this entire story, Annabeth finds a smile teasing at her lips. Afterall, despite the very rough memories she had at times, the two ships were her favorite (and only) home. “Found a place there, amongst the riff raff and other kids on board. And when that was sunk after a particularly bad mutiny, helped found the Argo II. Climbed the ranks, made friends, eventually got close enough to trust some of the others on board even. 

“Of course people came and left, and some died, but we were getting ourselves steady again. Things were looking clear and well. The crew had stabilized, the ship was in better shape than ever, and we had finally found a good stretch of the waters that was good pickings without being full of other scavengers and pirates.” A surge of anger sparks in her as she realizes they could still have all that if not for Percy. But can’t bring herself to fully blame the woman for her half-sister’s tantrum. So, she buries the anger for now, it won’t be useful now. “And you know the rest of the story.” Annabeth dejectedly nods to Baba. 

Her home is gone now, and she has barely had a chance to grieve it yet.

Baba Yaga tilts her head and hums contemplatively, her expression an exaggerated frown. “There is much to be striven for in mortals’ lives. Of course, that which is striven for can be found… Or given.” She leans forward to pluck another bulochka from the tray, leaving just two left. “But for every boon, a price must be paid, intentional or otherwise.”

Percy scoffs, “More riddles and circular talk then.”

Annabeth turns to look at Percy, genuinely confused that she didn’t put it together. The entire time they’ve been here, Percy has seemed the more knowledgeable one, a feeling Annabeth isn’t very familiar with. She had forgotten that just because Percy has more experience with magic and thus seems more aware of things, the two are both intelligent in their own ways. 

“I think what our kind host is saying is that she’ll offer us something to help us get what we want, but it’ll have some cost, something we may or may not realize was the cost when we pay it.” As an afterthought, she grabs the penultimate bulochka, and motions for Percy to grab the last bun. 

She turns back to Baba to see if she was right, and is met with an approving smile. “Correct in one, daughter of Athena.” Without another word, Baba stands and –after Percy plucks the final bulochka– picks up the tray. “Well, I will leave you two to discuss whatever you deem appropriate. The first door on the right through that hall will be your room for the night; come find me in the morning with your answer.” She gestures with a long arm to one of the open archways that leads to a dimly lit hallway.

As suddenly as she had stood, she makes her way out of the room, moving far quicker than her size would suggest possible. 

Annabeth blinks at the hastily retreating form of Baba Yaga for a moment before turning to look at Percy –who’s already looking at her with a guarded expression. “Let’s check out this room before we dive into whatever we’re gonna talk about first…”

Percy chuckles, but her face doesn’t lose the clearly crafted wall, “Sure.”

With that agreement between them, they awkwardly walk in silence through the large space –far more slowly and carefully than Baba did a moment ago– and quickly find the room that Baba said should be theirs. The room is one of the bigger bedrooms Annabeth has seen, only rivaled by the most wealthy and extravagantly full of themselves rich assholes. But aside from the sheer size of it, nothing in the room screams wealth or extravagance. 

There are two large beds, each easily made for at least two people to fit on at once, a long low thin table between the beds, a few lit candles around the room, some bookshelves lined with what look like knick knacks, and a small wooden desk with a plush chair pushed against it. There’s one other door in the room, right in the middle of the right side wall. Relatively plain and unassuming, especially compared to the eccentricity of the entryway and the large initial room. In fact, Annabeth notices as she sits on the edge of the bed, there are no paintings or anything that resembles what was out in the other room. 

“Alright. First thing’s first. We should talk about the fact we spilled some of our life stories back there.” Percy states, clearly keeping her voice steady and calm, hiding any emotion. “Agreed?” She leans against one of the bookshelves, arms crossed and staring at the wall past Annabeth’s head. 

Annabeth shrugs. It’s not exactly what she wants to focus on, she would rather talk about the gift Baba is offering, and deal with the repercussions of the shared stories in the morning. But, she also can’t see fault in dealing with it now, besides the fact she doesn’t want to. “Sure, if you want to deal with that first. And then we can talk about this gift.”

Percy nods, but then an awkward silence fills the space between them as both avoid looking at the other. Neither say anything for long enough for drowsiness to start to take Annabeth. It has been such a long day, and it takes everything for Annabeth to not say their conversation can wait till the morning and just lie back in bed. Instead, she clears her throat and forces herself to look at Percy. “Well, I guess I’ll start by saying despite the whole having to fight in a war thing, it sounds like you had a pretty cool time after you moved to Atlantis…”

With a scoff, Percy’s hands tighten against her arms. “Trust me, there was plenty not cool about any of it.”

Sighing, Annabeth nods, understanding there was plenty both of them glossed over in their stories. “I’m not discounting that. I’m just saying, getting to live in a literal mythical place, with a family that at the very least seems to care for you in the minimal sense; well, that can’t have been all bad.”

Silence settles between them again, though Percy’s brow is pinched as if she was trying her hardest to reconcile what Annabeth said. It lasts long enough for Annabeth to open her mouth to apologize, but before she can get a word out, Percy relaxes and sighs. “Yeah… You’re right…” She doesn’t elaborate, and Annabeth doesn’t push, knowing far too well that plenty of information needs to be kept close to one’s chest –information that before today, she too had kept from everyone else in her life. 

Percy pushes off the shelf she was leaning against, and moves to sit next to Annabeth, a couple feet to the left of her on the bed. Annabeth’s eyes stick on her, while Percy’s flit between her hands clasped in front of her, and the wall opposite them. Eventually Percy speaks, in a voice that’s soft enough for Annabeth to barely hear comfortably. “I’m sorry by the way. For bringing that storm to the Argo II… If it weren’t for me, your ship, your family even, would be fine right now.”

The apology is so out of what Annabeth expected, that she can’t help the tears that threaten to spill. She had successfully buried the thought the moment it occurred to her earlier, and to hear it spoken aloud, however remorsefully, brings it right back to the surface. But, like earlier, she forces herself to remember herself and remember where the blame really lies. She does her best to keep the grief and anger she feels under her skin from showing in her voice. “It’s not your fault… You said it was your half-sister throwing a tantrum right? Well, then it’s her fault.”

Instead of accepting the shift of blame, Percy shakes her head dejectedly, “If I wasn’t there, Kym wouldn’t have even cared about the ship. She always loves throwing storms at me. Really it was a miracle it took so long for her to send one… Then again, six months is barely anything in the eyes of an immortal; she probably only just realized I’d left.”

It’s not Annabeth’s place to dig into Percy’s need to blame herself, not now at the very least, so instead she focuses on the other surprising part of that statement. “Your sister’s immortal? Is that normal for demigods, to get immortality or something.”

“No, it’s not normal…” Percy chuckles, her eyes darkening instead of lighting up in the laugh. “Kym’s not a demigod, she’s a full god; one of the few legitimate kids of my dad and his wife.”

“Right… Yeah…” Annabeth blinks, barely able to process the fact Percy talks so casually of gods and her interactions with them. Sure, she had been talking about her dad for a while, but for some reason the fact she’s able to talk about a sister –that’s a god– so familiarly is what pushes Annabeth over the edge.

Percy finally glances up at Annabeth’s face, and laughs again, this time much more light heartedly. After a minute, she calms down, though a small grin lingers on her face. “Sorry, I– I just didn't expect that to be what broke the great Annabeth Chase.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes and looks away, but doesn’t feel all that upset at the other woman. “You know I’m not that great. Especially compared to someone who literally knows gods and has fought in wars and has kickass magic powers and all that.” She murmurs, feeling more self-conscious of herself than anything else.

Percy scoots over so the two are sitting right next to each other, and bumps Annabeth’s shoulder with her own. “Not from what I’ve heard about you. Everyone I met that knew you said you were the smartest and most dangerous person on the ship, but also the best person to talk to about any problem. I don’t know about you, but in my books that’s worthy of being called great.”

This conversation is quickly getting into realms Annabeth can’t handle, so she takes the easy way out and shifts the subject after yet another pause settles around them. “Anyways, we should talk about what we’re gonna do about Baba’s offer, and then get some sleep… I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted.” She chuckles.

Thankfully, Percy nods and goes along with the subject shift. “I for one think we gotta take it…” Annabeth spins . Her disbelief must be obvious despite Percy not looking at her, since she continues after getting no response. “For one, it’s never good to say no to an immortal, especially one who’s all but holding you hostage. 

“There’s blurred lines, sure, but when they flat out say we can’t escape this place on our own, well… Besides, we have no guarantee what the next immortal we’d find in this area would be like; at least Baba Yaga seems at least somewhat trustworthy.” She pauses for a moment, tilting her head as if she considers something. “Well, as trustworthy as immortals go. But the point stands that she seems as likely as anyone to actually help us. And for two, we already shared our life stories.”

“But it didn’t sound like that was the price for whatever she’d give us.” Annabeth counters, not following Percy’s reasoning so far. 

“No, it wasn’t. You’re right.” Percy shrugs and nods, finally turning to look at Annabeth. She’s grinning, but her eyes look far more haunted and world weary than Annabeth has ever seen anyone look; they’re sharp and vibrant, but almost too sharp, as if chipped and worn to a point instead of honed like a blade. “But, an immortal who asks who you are before giving you something is either sadistic or actually has learned to care over the centuries.”

How does anyone respond to something like that? Well, Annabeth just stares, blank faced for a full couple of minutes before sighing. “I don’t really like it but–”

“I never said I liked it either.”

“–but,” Annabeth points at Percy and glares. “I’ll follow your lead since you know all this god and immortal and magic shit. And deal with the consequences like usual.” She sighs and drops her hand and head. “Besides, I have no counterpoints to the fact we can’t escape this place and have no guarantee there’s anyone else to even help us.”

Percy gets up off the bed with a deep breath, and pats Annabeth on the shoulder. “Alright. Now that we’ve settled on that, let’s hit the hay.

Annabeth feels like she barely laid her head on the pillow when she groggily wakes up in what she hopes is the morning. It has been years since she slept in, but she wouldn’t be surprised by it, after how exhausting the previous day had been. She could have sworn last night there were no windows in the room, but now –as she sits up in bed– there’s sunlight streaming in through a large cross-paned window. Not quite hitting her face, but bouncing off every surface of the room enough to hurt her eyes as she scans the room. 

Barring the strange new window, there’s nothing else different about the room from last night. Given they didn’t have any possessions at the moment, the only signs of Percy or Annabeth even being here are the beds, one of which is empty now. The side door –which they had discovered led to a fairly nice bathroom– is open so Percy can’t be there, so Annabeth can only hope she’s somewhere else in the house, safe.

By the time Annabeth has thrown on the thankfully now dry clothes she was wearing yesterday, untangled her dreads, and stretched the sleep from her limbs; she’s feeling far more awake and alert, ready for whatever the day will bring. Which seems to be an uncomfortable silence that she walks into as she walks into the main room. The room itself seems similar to the bedroom, in that it’s nearly identical, except for the sudden appearance of a few large windows which let a fair bit of natural light in. 

Percy and Baba Yaga sit in the same chairs as last night, both idling sipping tea from the same cups as before. The energy the two other beings (since calling both people feels so lacking right now) are giving off is something Annabeth can’t describe. Even before she settles into the last open chair, she feels her skin itch with unease. 

Just as Annabeth has finished her first sip of tea –this time a more earthy bright flavor that energizes her– Percy clears her throat. “Now that she’s awake, mind telling me what this boon you’re offering is?” Her gaze is pointed at Baba, and Annabeth can’t help but wonder how anyone could stare Percy down as calmly as Baba is.

Unlike the duo, Baba is dressed differently than last night; she’s wearing a simple white buttoned blouse with long wide sleeves, a thick ruby colored cowl with pale yellow dots, and a floor length tan skirt that is just a few shades darker than her skin tone. The relatively normal outfit only serves to make her caricature-like features stand out more. 

“As I have told you Percy, I require an answer from the both of you.” She turns her head to look directly at Annabeth, her gaze feeling heavy and all-knowing. “What is your answer Annabeth Chase; would you risk an unknown price of my own doing for the chance at what it is you truly seek in the matters of life?” Her voice has a steady, normal tone with the severity of a hurricane.

The question isn’t much different than what Annabeth has thought about, but for some reason the words feel like they’re booming through her ears. She doesn’t need Percy to tell her this is no regular question, and answers it as if it’s the most important thing she has ever said. Which it may just be, who knows. “Yes. I will accept whatever price is asked of me for this boon you offer, Baba Yaga.”

Without breaking eye contact with Annabeth, or changing her stoic expression at all, Baba lifts her hands and claps. The sound shockingly loud as the house cracks and creaks. Immediately Percy is on her feet, tea cup clattering on the ground forgotten; with Annabeth only a second slower than her. Percy’s sword is pointed right under Baba’s unamused face. “What’d you do? What’s going on?” The snarl of her words and fierceness of her words far more the war veteran than she has ever shown in Annabeth’s company.

Baba simply tilts her head, as if mockingly confused. “Why, I’m giving you two what you desire.” She shrugs, and bounces her head a little. “Well, I will; once we reach the shoreline.” She stands, unbothered by the metal at her throat nor by the house suddenly rocking back and forth.

Annabeth and Percy aren’t as steady, but surprisingly aren’t too bad as they follow Baba. It isn’t all too dissimilar from the rocking of a boat, though the sudden thuds that seem to follow each rock are more than a little disconcerting. Both still have their blades drawn, and are uneasy as the house keeps rocking for a solid minute. Everything, from the piles of items scattered on tables to the paintings on the walls, shake with each motion, but somehow nothing falls.

Luckily, by the time the three reach the front door, the rocking stops, though it does end with a sudden lurch that leaves Annabeth feeling like she fell off a mast. When Baba opens the door a moment later, instead of a forest full of trees, white sand and bright blue waves greet them.The sun is part way up from the horizon in front of them, threatening to blind them if not for the scattered clouds that offer some shade. 

Without a word, Baba walks forward, effortlessly moving over the sand with infinitely more finesse than Percy or Annabeth had yesterday. As expected, the two follow with far less grace and take a bit longer to reach her when she stops at the edge of the tide. When they do, they find Baba standing with one hand lazily hanging and the other outstretched in a come hither motion.

Before they can ask what she’s doing, a whale bursts from the tide, moving surprisingly fast as it crashes into the sand and beaches itself a few feet to their side. Annabeth has only seen a few whales in her life, all of which were from a distance. Whether this one is just different, or this is what they look like up close, she can’t help but marvel at it. 

Its skin is a beautiful blue-gray that looks like smooth soft leather, despite the wrinkles and bumps along its length. The gigantic eye that’s staring back at them, which seems to be a portal to the deep dark swirling depths of the ocean, is nearly as big as Annabeth. Its fin slaps the land as it shifts slightly, seemingly upset at its situation, and it lets out a long mournful moan that threatens to burst Annabeth’s eardrums. 

Unperturbed by the sudden whale, Baba walks up to it and runs a hand up and down over its side. Suddenly, the whale’s back –at least what part of it is visible to Annabeth from this angle– erupts as a whole building seems to manifest itself. Annabeth can’t tell much about it from here, except that it’s clearly a fairly large multi storey wooden building. As if that weren’t enough, the whale then starts to float, climbing the sky until it’s a few dozen feet in the air, and seemingly waiting for something.

A rope ladder uncoils and rolls down the side of the whale, reaching down long enough to stop right in front of the three, and Baba motions Percy and Annabeth to it. “This is where I bid you farewell. I hope you both find that which you seek.” She nods to the both.

Both give a quick thank you and goodbye to the magical immortal that is apparently gifting them a flying whale, and climb the ladder, finding it fairly easy to climb up onto the top of the whale. From the top, Annabeth immediately sees what might as well be a full land home from a history book. There’s the building she saw from the ground –which is clearly a house. There’s a garden of grass, a well that almost worries Annabeth despite the clear magical nature of this all, and even a fairly large garden of some kind. 

Before she can really explore this all, Percy taps her shoulder. “Umm… I guess that’s our cue to get going…” She gestures to the ground, where Baba is standing on her porch, looking up at the two with a simple wave of her long arm. From this distance it’s hard to see exactly, but it looks like she has painting under her arm now, somehow. After a moment, she claps her hands, and the entire house lurches up, two gigantic chicken legs appearing from beneath it, and just walks back into the woods.

It’s crazy, but at this point Annabeth is barely phased, so she takes a breath and turns to Percy. “Well, I guess this is our life now… Let’s go see what this crazy house is, and how to get this whale moving.”

“You’re probably right.” Percy chuckles and shakes her head. “We really gotta name the whale though, I refuse to just call it ‘the whale’.”

Before she can respond, the whale starts moving forward, somehow not knocking either of the duo down as it starts speeding through the sky, away from the magical land they had found themselves on, and towards whatever life has in store for them next.