𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐚; percy jackson

𝟎𝟒 | teasing on and on

"Percy Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven," Annabeth announced as they approached the door.

"Regular or undetermined?" a voice from inside the cabin called out.

"Undetermined," Annabeth replied crisply.

There was a noticeable groan from some of the campers, who didn't seem too thrilled about this addition.

"Come on, that's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy!" A taller boy with dark hair stepped out from the crowd. Luke Castellan, Meara noted, always seemed calm under pressure. He gave Percy a friendly grin. "You can have a spot on the floor, right over there," Luke motioned toward a bare corner of the room.

Before Percy could respond, Luke's attention shifted to Meara. "Hey, Mea, missed you at practice today," he teased, nudging her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'll be there tomorrow. Right after we capture the flag," Meara replied, a hint of a smile on her lips.

Percy, standing between them, looked confused. "Practice? What kind of practice?" he asked, glancing between them. "And wait—are we playing Capture the Flag?"

"Sword practice," Luke explained. "You'll probably be there soon enough—especially since you killed the Minotaur." He gave Percy a pat on the shoulder, acknowledging his recent feat. "As for the game, yeah, we are playing Capture the Flag, but you've only been here for a few days, so I don't know if they'll let you play."

At the mention of the Minotaur, Percy's face fell, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Oh," he muttered.

Meara, who had been listening, softened at the sight. She remembered hearing Percy mumbling in his sleep about his mother. Even though she had never experienced a loss like that, she understood that it couldn't be easy.

"Make yourself at home," Luke said, nodding toward the corner once more.

Percy, still deep in thought, simply nodded and turned to head toward his new 'bed'.

Once Percy was out of earshot, Luke glanced back at Annabeth and Meara. "Thoughts?" he asked, curious.

Annabeth looked at Meara, as if waiting for her to speak. After all Annabeth seemed to have her own theories about Percy's and Meara's godly parentage.

Meara shrugged, keeping her expression neutral. "I think he just needs a friend. You should be that for him, Luke," she said casually, surprising both Luke and Annabeth.

Both blinked in shock, not expecting such a response from Meara. She wasn't known for being particularly soft or sympathetic. But Meara, despite her usual guarded nature, couldn't help but think of the loneliness Percy must feel after losing his mother.

"What?" Annabeth asked, her voice slipping out before she could stop herself.

Meara gave her a look, as if daring her to comment further. She didn't want to get called out for showing too much emotion. That wasn't her style. Campers had always said she was cold, detached. This was just an exception. Or at least, that's what she told herself.

"You were just teasing him a second ago, and now you think he needs a friend?" Annabeth pointed out, folding her arms.

Meara sighed. "Our personalities don't match. We could never be friends, but him and Luke? Maybe." She paused, trying to make sense of her own feelings. Percy confused her. He was rude, blunt, and difficult to understand. He wasn't the type of person she usually got along with. In fact, she wasn't sure if they were frenemies, acquaintances, or simply two people stuck in the same camp.

Luke, sensing the tension, raised his hands in surrender. "Whoa, okay. Did something happen earlier? Annabeth?"

Before Annabeth could respond, a new voice broke into the conversation. "M! You're finally back from the crusty nursery!" Isla Curran, daughter of Aphrodite and one of Meara's friends, appeared with a big grin on her face. "Oh my gods, I need to redo your hair. Come here."

Hearing Isla's voice felt like a lifeline for Meara. She turned swiftly, relieved by the distraction. "Isla!" she breathed, a smile spreading instantly across her face.

Isla wasted no time, her excitement palpable. "You've got to tell us everything, because the things we've heard? Crazy." Aire Mintz, the daughter of Apollo, joined her, waving her hands dramatically in sync with her words.

Luke, catching the conversation, stepped in, his tone a little more serious. "Yeah, I've heard about it too. Meara, you're the best sword fighter at camp, but the Ares kids... they don't respect that. You need to be careful."

Meara frowned slightly, looking up at him. "They just can't handle the fact that some people are better than them."

Luke chuckled softly. "Did you at least have your sword with you?"

Meara shook her head, a small smile forming. "No, I don't exactly carry it with me every time I'm wandering in the forest."

"Unbelievable," Luke muttered, shaking his head in disbelief as he gave her a gentle pat on the back. "Just stay out of trouble."

With a wave goodbye to Luke and Annabeth, Meara eagerly followed Aire and Isla out the door. She was grateful for the escape, but even as they walked, a nagging feeling lingered. It felt like someone had been listening in on their conversation earlier.

The trio finally made it to their favorite hangout spot beneath the tall tree. Aire leaned against the trunk, while Isla and Meara sat on the grass. Isla's fingers quickly worked through Meara's hair, braiding it into two neat plaits.

"So," Isla began, breaking the silence, "how did things go in the nursery? Did Chiron put you in charge of that Percy kid as a punishment? And what about Grover—did you have a chance to talk to him yet?"

Meara sighed. "No, Chiron hasn't even mentioned the Ares incident, which is weird because Annabeth was convinced he knew everything. And as for Grover, no, I haven't had time to talk to him either."

Aire shrugged, biting into an apple. "That's strange. Watch it turn out to be something way bigger than we think."

Isla stayed quiet, concentrating on finishing Meara's braids.

After a moment, Aire grinned, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Oh, by the way, someone mentioned they saw you fighting in the forest. Care to explain?"

Meara let out a snort. "No one saw anything."

Aire laughed. "Actually, they said the children of war ran off like—" She was cut off by Isla's amused interruption.

"You get the picture," Isla said with a grin.

Meara smiled to herself. The Ares kids wouldn't be too happy about the rumors swirling around, but she didn't mind. After all, maybe they weren't just rumors.