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Annabeth feels stressed. She hates feeling stressed. The fact that she's been given possibly the scariest prophecy in the world doesn’t help soothe her nerves. As she paces her cabin, she keeps replaying and analyzing what the oracle spat out at her over and over in her head.
”You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze,
Okay, that was the labyrinth, Annabeth thinks. To try and tackle the issue of navigating the maze, she’d pulled every book, map, scroll, poem, and art piece about the Labyrinth that she could find. She had them all sprawled out on her desk or pinned to the walls. She’d been trying to find any correlation between each piece, but none of them agreed on anything.
The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raised,
That line makes her angry, as there were too many blanks in one sentence. She figures the traitor must be Luke. She knows his forces are already in the Labyrinth, so it is possible they'll run into him again. That thought gives her a painful mix of hope and dread, something that feels suffocating if she thinks about it for too long.
But the dead? She has no clue. The only person she knows who is even close to the dead is Nico Di Angelo, but she has no clue where he is, or even if he is still alive. Annabeth isn’t afraid of ghosts. She is, however, afraid of unanswered questions. There are so many things- like monsters- that die all the time.
She also doesn’t know what the lost one refers to. Things are lost all the time. People, items, even places. There are too many possibilities. It makes her head spin.
You shall rise or fall by the Ghost King’s hand,
Another line containing the dead. Annabeth wonders if the Labyrinth will lead them to the underworld. The Ghost King might refer to Hades. He was the God of the Dead, after all. But thinking about death and ghosts makes her unshakable feeling of dread worsen.
The child of Athena’s final stand,
That line sends chills down her spine every time she thinks about it, making her stomach twist in knots. She is a child of Athena, and based on how often this prophecy talks about death, she doesn’t have a good feeling about her own lifespan. She’d be an idiot if she didn’t acknowledge that the Labyrinth is dangerous. Plus, the next bit: “Destroy with a hero's final breath,” does not offer her any comfort.
And lose a love worse than death.”
Annabeth’s traitorous mind instantly flies to Percy. She’s had a massive crush on him for nearly three years. She’s tried her best to push down her feelings, but it hadn't really worked. If anything, it just made her crush, her obsession, worse. Would she lose Percy, too? She doesn’t dwell on that too long, as the idea alone makes her want to vomit.
Percy had been so willing to go on a life-threatening quest for her, and he agreed with no hesitation. Percy had saved her life multiple times, doing so selflessly each time. He is her best friend and the only person to have relentlessly stayed by her side. If she is drawing him to his death, how can she live with herself?
Besides, he is likely the center of another, bigger prophecy. She still has nightmares about the Great Prophecy. Just thinking about it makes her shiver. But there is no way he’s unlucky enough to have his death foretold twice, right?
Against her will, her mind drifts back to Luke. Thinking about him makes her head hurt. She’d had a crush on him when she was twelve, and he was almost like a big brother to her. At the time, he’d been the only family she had left. Her father, brothers, and stepmother hated her. Her mother seldom spoke to her. She’d been deeply attached to him, clinging onto the only person who seemed to like her. But then, he'd gone and betrayed the camp, trying to kill Percy in the process.
She has mixed emotions about him. One part of her loathes him for leaving and for hurting her so badly. The other part secretly prays that she can help him, that she could fix him. Like a broken machine, perhaps a solid kick to the face would make him work properly again, just like a vending machine.
Annabeth takes a deep breath and picks up a scroll. It is another map of the Labyrinth, but it was just another version that doesn’t match with anything else.
"Knock knock."
Annabeth turns around with a start. Percy is standing in the doorway of her cabin. It takes her a count of three to actually process his presence.
"Oh.. hi. Didn’t hear you." Annabeth blinks.
Percy briefly scans the room before his eyes fall on her desk, then they move up to her, which makes Annabeth incredibly self-conscious. Suddenly, she regrets not thoroughly brushing her hair that morning. He furrows his brow in concern.
"You okay?" Percy ventured.
She looks away, frowning at the scroll in her hands. "Just trying to do some research. Daedalus's labyrinth is so huge. None of the stories agree about anything. The maps just lead from nowhere to nowhere."
Annabeth can’t deal with the way he is looking at her. Her heartbeat is audible in her ears. His eyes are trained on her, which makes her heart preform a gymnastics routine. She finds that his sea green eyes contain the majority of his emotion, which is unfortunate for her, as she is pathetically weak when it comes to him. Right now, he holds an uncanny resemblance to a worried baby seal.
"We’ll figure it out," Percy promises.
Annabeth appreciates that he says we’ll, not you’ll. It pleases her more than her pride allows.
"I’ve wanted to lead a quest since i was seven," she sighs.
"You’re going to do awesome."
Annabeth looks at him gratefully, but then she stares down at all the books and scrolls she'd pulled from the shelves. Looking at all of it makes her head ache.
"I’m worried, Percy. Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to do this- or Tyson or Grover."
Percy smiles at her reassuringly, "Hey, we're your friends. We wouldn't miss it."
"But..." she stops herself. How can she accurately voice her concerns? Were leaders supposed to admit their fears?
"What is it?" Percy asks in that stupidly earnest tone of his, "The prophecy?"
She’d forgotten how perceptive he was. Percy is no stranger to prophecies, but it is just her luck that her prophecy contains so much death.
"I’m sure it's fine," Annabeth says in a small voice.
"What was the last line?"
A part of her wants to tell him everything. She desperately wants to confide in him, to express how downright terrified she is. She yearns to stare into his eyes and spill her guts, to say how scared that she's going to get them all killed or that they'd get lost forever. She wants to so badly, but she doesn't want to scare Percy out of going on the quest. She knows that it’s a selfish thought, but she also knows she needs Percy if she is going to make it through the quest.
Deep down, she knows Percy isn’t the type to run away. He is painfully loyal, which is one of his most admirable traits, and the one she appreciates the most.
She looks away, and she swallows the urge to confess. Though, despite her better judgment, Annabeth holds her arms out for a hug. She ignores the sting in her eyes, doing her best to blink back tears and swallow the lump in her throat. It isn’t like her to ask for help or comfort, but she doesn’t know what else to do.
Percy steps forward and embraces her. His body is warm. The contrast to her own body temperature causes her to notice how bad she is shivering. He smells like the ocean.
"Hey, it's... It's okay." Percy mutters as he gently pats her back.
Annabeth has made a point to look tough her entire life. She rarely lets people know what she is truly thinking. She hates feeling weak, vulnerable. Accepting comfort from another person feels strange, but she doesn’t hate it.
Percy is one of the only people who has ever seen her cry before. If she can’t trust him, who can she trust?
"Chiron might be right," Annabeth mutters. "I’m breaking the rules. But I don’t know what else to do. I need you three. It just feels right."
"Then don't worry about it," Percy soothes, though his voice sounds.. different. "We’ve had plenty of problems before, and we solved them."
Annabeth nearly sobs. He keeps saying we, not you, we. Words can’t express her gratitude. He is unintentionally making it clear that he wasn't going anywhere, and she loves him for that.
"This is different. I don't want anything happening to...any of you." she insists. She has to stop herself from singling him out.
Suddenly, somebody clears their throat.
Annabeth looks over Percy’s shoulder. It is one of her half-brothers, Malcolm. His face is bright red. "Um, sorry," he says, flustered. "Archery practice is starting, Annabeth. Chiron said to come find you."
Percy steps away from her. His face is bright red, and she knows from the heat in her cheeks that she probably looks the same. Her heart is beating so fast she can hear it.
"We were just looking at.. uh, maps," Percy says, stupidly.
Malcolm stared at Percy, seeming just as startled as they did, "Okay."
"Tell Chiron I’ll be right there," Annabeth instructs. Malcom immediate turns on his heels, leaving in a hurry.
Annabeth rubs her eyes. She turns away quickly, "You go ahead, Percy. I’d better get ready for archery."
But despite what she says, she doesn’t hear his footsteps to leave.
"Annabeth?" Percy calls hesitantly. "About your prophecy. The line about a hero's last breath—"
"You’re wondering which hero? I don't know."
Please not you, I’m begging, Annabeth silently pleads.
"No. Something else. I was thinking the last line usually rhymes with the one before it. Was it something about—did it end in the word death?"
Once again, annabeth has forgotten that Percy is actually pretty intuitive. She forces her breathing to slow. She focuses down at her scrolls. "You’d better go, Percy. Get ready for the quest. I’ll-I’ll see you in the morning."
Percy leaves, but his footsteps are slow and reluctant. She can tell that Percy isn’t content to leave her, but he wants to respect her wishes. She realizes as he left that she doesn’t really want him to go.
Annabeth she shakes her head and swallows hard. She looks up into a small mirror that hangs above her desk. She can do this. She has to do this.