Chapter Text
One of the many things Percy knew about his friend Annabeth Chase was that she hardly showed fear. Countless monsters had hunted them, almost drowned (well, he hadn’t been close, no matter how hard he’d wished it), and he’d seen her face off alone against Polyphemus alone; all without one single ounce of visible fear. He’d figured this was because she’d been in their world for so long, training harder than probably even the New York Police since the age of seven.
But as he watched her on the back of the Manticore, clinging for dear life as he neared the edge of the cliff, celestial bronze dagger poised in her hand to strike again, he saw it. For a brief moment, the world around him slowed, her wide dark eyes connected with his, wide with sudden alarm and the one thing he’d never been privy to– fear. And then it was gone, she was gone.
“Annabeth!”, even over the din of the helicopter, Percy’s voice carried, desperate; ripping from his throat with such force it felt as if his vocal cords had been shredded into pieces. His legs were moving before his brain had caught up; he had to get to her. He’d vowed to himself only six months ago that he’d never let her be taken again, never be alone if he could help it. Holes were appearing in the snow caused by gunfire from their enemies. Suddenly, he was tumbling into the snow, his legs flying up into the air.
Had circumstances been different, the visage of his legs flying up into the air like a cartoon character’s would have been hilarious. Annabeth would have no doubt shaken her head with a barely contained smile before offering him a hand up, eyes shining with equal bemusement and exasperation at his clumsiness. Grover no doubt would have bleated out a laugh too, and Pery himself would have pointed out that it wasn’t fair, as his satyr friend had an unnatural grace when free from his human shoe disguise. There was a brief struggle as the son of Poseidon attempted to struggle to his feet, failing slightly to find traction in the snow beneath him.
But that wasn’t what stopped him fully; nothing but a physical force could ever stop him from getting to Annabeth when she needed him.
A few of the girls, maybe only a little older than himself if at all, had begun to push him down into the snow again- stopping him altogether. The words of one, an auburn-haired girl, no older than twelve, ringing in his ears, “I’m sorry, Percy Jackson, your friend is beyond help”.
Percy’s chest tightened, seizing with the idea that Annabeth was just simply gone. Brave, stubborn and battle-trained Annabeth, who’d saved his skin multiple times, who had let him glimpse the soft and emotional side of her below the decks of the Ironclad, who faced off against the sirens and Polyphemus by herself, gone. Aegean eyes flashed then with something dangerous and unrestrained, a violent maelstrom filled with equal despair and anger. “Who do you think you are?!” Gods be damned if this seventh grader and her pack of sidekicks thought they could stop him from pitching himself off the cliff after her.
One of the girls, Thalia, had, with disgust, said her name– Zoe Nightshade stepped forward as if to strike him before being stopped by the younger girl, “No. I sense no disrespect, Zoe. He is simply distraught. He does not understand”
What more was there to understand than this girl, younger and smaller, was in his way?
The girl looked at him then, her eyes were colder and brighter than the winter moon above them, they carried something old within them, far older than what had business being in the eyes of a girl her age. “I am Artemis. Goddess of the Hunt.”
He had fought Ares; he could fight her too- he was bigger than her and filled with rage and despair and need, he needed to get to Annabeth. Would she still be there? By some luck, hanging onto the cliff side with that determined look of hers?
But the girls were relentless, and he had no choice but to still, body vibrating with rage, eyes prickling with grief, his body was far too small for.
And for the first time, but likely not the last, Perseus Jackson wanted to strangle the Hunters of Artemis one eternal maiden at a time.