Wrath of a Halfblood (A Percy Jackson Fanfic)

1.6

Percy felt the familiar pull in her stomach as she guided the ships forward. She sent a quiet prayer to her father, thanking him for safe passage as they pursued their course for Troy. 

The scent of saltwater drowned her senses as she entered her father's domain. For the first time since being thrown back in time, Percy felt completely at peace. 

What belongs to the sea will always return to the sea. 

It felt like hugging her mother when she returned to New York after being expelled from another school. It felt like coming home after the war. It felt like eating blue cookies on the beach with her father and Triton. It felt like stepping back into camp half-blood after a quest. 

It was the sense of utter and complete relief. 

She could feel the boat gliding through the water and the pull of changing tides. The men cheered as their boats shot forward without the assistance of wind. She could sense her father's presence just below the surface of the glistening sea-green water. 

She knew the peace wouldn't last, eventually, Achilles would be through with his duties and come to find her, dragging poor Patroculus along with him. 

Achilles has been annoyingly clingy since Percy arrived. He would ask her endless questions that she would return with silence. She thought maybe she was wrong with her first interpretation of Achilles, he wasn't like Jason at all. No his blonde curls and inquisitive nature reminded her of another demi-god... Annabeth Chase. 

It hurt to see the similarities: the snarky remarks, the questions, the clever responses, the genius battle strategies. 

Give him a Yankees cap and Percy might actually break down crying again. 

The homesick feeling in her chest was a constant agonizing reminder of what was taken from her. She knew there was nowhere she could go, nowhere she could run. Percy was trapped in an impossible situation. The fates themselves were against her pulling her along like a puppet on a string. 

Annabeth.

Grover.

Nico.

Will.

Tyson.

Estelle.

Mom. 

The Stolls. 

Clarisse. 

Hazel. 

Frank. 

Leo. 

Reyna. 

Piper. 

A thousand faces flashed in her mind as she looked across the crowded ships. She would sometimes catch a glimpse of someone who looked too much like someone she lost and her heart would stop for a moment. 

She had lost so much...

She didn't want to be friendly with Achilles or Patroculus. She didn't want to greet any of the kings who raised their banners for a war she didn't want to involve herself in. She didn't want to get close again. 

Loyalty was her fatal flaw, getting close to people meant she would devote her entire soul to them until they were forcefully taken from her. And clearly, the fates had no qualm about carving that loyalty out of her and turning it on her like a sharpened bone ripped from her own flesh. 

Please. She begged the fates. Please don't curse me to know them. Don't curse me to love them. Don't curse me to lose them again... I won't survive it.