Chapter Text
Annabeth isn’t expecting much.
She doesn’t think she can be blamed for that, either. Of course, an absolute monarchy as a system of government has its own flaws, and while she absolutely believes that she’s the best person suited for the job of running her own country, she’s willing to admit that she had an insane amount of advantages to help her along the way.
She did not wade her way into the sea and stumble upon a long lost swordthat apparently declared her worthy of ruling.
What kind of name is Percy Jackson for a king, anyway? The official documents all say Perseus, which is a little better, but Annabeth’s spies have reliably informed her that he makes everyone around him call him Percy.
Annabeth isn’t one to stand on ceremony, but she’s pretty sure she’d declare war on anyone trying to call her ‘Annie’.
What she isn’t willing to do is start making trouble with a neighbouring kingdom that has only recently stopped being a thorn in her side. Say what you will about marine weaponry being a deciding factor in choosing a king, at least the country has a ruler now. Anarchy might be fun for those making the most of it, but it makes even a queen with as substantial a military as Annabeth nervous.
So she hosts a summit. Ostensibly to encourage peace and trade amongst the surrounding kingdoms, it’s really a chance for everyone to take the measure of this new ruler who has appeared out of nowhere.
Which is why it’s more than a little annoying that he’s late. She hadn’t been expecting much, but–
“Sorry!” The double doors sort of crash open, a youngish (more than just attractive-ish) man standing in the gap left. Annabeth wonders for a moment if he knows he’s at the end of two pikes wielded by the guards, before she notices the too-casual slide of sea-green eyes over his shoulder, the twitch of a hand towards the hilt of his sword.
She sits up a little straighter.
“There was a water dragon issue,” the man explains. “I tried explaining I had a - uh, summit - to get to, but I guess water dragons aren’t big on scheduling.”
His dark hair is a mess in a way she’d call rakish, if it was on one of her courtiers. It seems to also be water dragon related on this man, though - the ends are still dripping, and he doesn’t hesitate to shove a hand through it to get it out of his eyes, dislodging a simple gold circlet as he does so.
He doesn’t do anything to fix it. Having announced the reason for his lateness, the newly minted King Percy (because who else could it be?) just sort of stands there. It seems awkward, at first, but a beat passes and she begins to realise that he genuinely doesn’t care.
“Arrogance,” one of the ambassadors snorts, but Annabeth doesn’t think so. She steeples her fingers, resting her chin gently on the tips as she inspects him. His jaw clenches. He stands still, but there seems to be a fine vibration running through his form, as though the very act of remaining stationary is an effort to him.
Annabeth finds she can relate.
“Whose waters?” she calls across the room, not taking her gaze off him. He meets it directly, and she thinks this man knew exactly how impossible it would be to impress anyone in this room, let alone all of them. Why waste effort and dignity trying to convince people who didn’t want to be convinced that you were worth their time?
“Yours.” The hint of a grin tugs at his mouth, but he ducks his head to hide it. “You’re welcome, your majesty.”
Annabeth snorts. “I’ll see how impressive the corpse is before I thank you, your majesty, but I appreciate the effort.” She gestures to the empty her left. “Please, take a seat. Guards–” She motions to dismiss them, notes the way his broad shoulders unknot as the pikes lower, even though he hasn’t looked at them once.
The grin is definitely there, blazing behind those bright eyes even as he struggles to keep it from his mouth. He shrugs, before heading for her offered seat. “I didn’t kill it.”
Annabeth raises an eyebrow.
“I rode it here. It likes your moat.”
And that was how King Percy caused his first international incident on his first day outside his own borders. No wonder, Annabeth thinks later as she watches the water dragon splash in her castle’s defences, his people love him so much.
Idly, she wonders if that sword came with a fated spouse in the mix. Purely for political reasons, of course.