Her Old Friend... (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

Chapter 7:I Join (am forced into) A Quest

The next morning, Chiron moved Percy to cabin three. Like cabins 1, 2, 3 we don't have to share with anybody. We have plenty of room for all our stuff, we get to sit at my own dinner table, pick all our own activities, call "lights out" whenever we feel like it, and not listen to anybody else. And when you get that, unless your a loner, it was absolutely miserable. Just when you'd started to feel accepted, to feel like you had a home in cabin eleven and you might be a normal kid—or as normal as you can be when you're a half-blood—BAM you get separated out as if you had some rare disease. At least now I wasn't fully alone, now I had Percy. Nobody mentioned the hellhound, but I knew they were all talking about it behind his back. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that he was the son of the Sea God; and two, monsters would stop at nothing to kill us. 

They could even invade a camp that had always been considered safe. The other campers steered clear of us-mainly Percy, as much as possible. Cabin eleven was too nervous to have sword class with him after what he'd done to the Ares folks in the woods, so his lessons with Luke became one-on-one. After lessons with Percy, Annabeth would walk away muttering to herself: "Quest . . . Poseidon? . . . Dirty rotten . . .Got to make a plan . . ."Even Clarisse kept her distance from him, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill him for breaking her, one time only, magic spear. Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain was coming in our direction. I was tired and angry I had to be present, but I calmed myself and my anger flurried away, my mood changes the weather here, but this time that didn't happen. Still in my pajamas, because I wasn't crazy I stood outside the Big House, waiting for Percy and Grover. 

Percy and Grover arrived so, Grover, Percy, and I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against invisible opponents—two sets of cards hovering in the air. "Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity." We waited. "Come closer," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father." He said to Percy, then looked to me "Good Morning Y/N" "Good Morning Mr. D" I said kindly, not trying to make him angry at me. A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house. "Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said. Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth. "If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm." "Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in.

 "Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father.""Mr. D—" Chiron warned. "Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into an Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do." Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass. He snapped his fingers. The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind, then he was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind. The usual. Chiron smiled at us, but he looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, Y/N, please. And Grover." We did. Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use. "Tell me, Percy," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound?"