GOLD RUSH ↬ p. jackson x reader {book one}

I MEET THE FAMOUS PERCY JACKSON

PERCY JACKSON APPROACHED ME WITH SUCH EASE THAT I ALMOST BELIEVED IT WAS FOR GOOD REASON.

Turns out, befriending daughters of Aphrodite and entrusting them with your secrets is not the right way to go about seeking advice, especially since it now led me to being the one giving advice.
My dreams had never fully been things of fiction. Here and there, they were a little off, but weren't all random, unwarranted prophetic visions?

The first one I got of the summer was of Grover Underwood, renowned satyr at Camp Half Blood, in a wedding dress addressing Percy Jackson. I watched in extreme disturbance as the rippled vision washed across me like a hot flush on a summer day after hours of archery and sword fighting. "The Sea of Monsters, of course!" I made out in the echoes that felt like I was trapped underwater begging for a clearer sound.

"I told you! I don't know exactly where! And look, Percy ... um, I'm really sorry about this, but this empathy link ... well, I had no choice. Our emotions are connected now. If I die..."
The dream faded out and when I blinked, I was back in...
The Hermes Cabin. Home sweet home. If only I actually had siblings here, or a life that wasn't half packed in the luggage I could barely call mine. I was a child of divorce; if full custody went to Camp Half Blood and the other parent was the overbearing-yet-absentee boarding school I had attended for most of my life.

I met the son of Poseidon minutes before the chariot race began, after he had gone up to Annabeth and quarreled with her very quickly about something he seemed extremely passionate about and she seemed unbothered with.
He approached me with his jet black hair disheveled and across his face, covering creases of concern embedded in his forehead. His eyes were not so beautiful sea-green as I had heard, but like a tempest, an ocean during a storm.

"Hey, it's Y/N isn't it?" Percy grinned, some kind of glint in his expression. I prayed to all the gods that he wasn't anticipating me fangirling over the fact that he knew my name. It was no secret that I was a topic of gossip, especially when I 'guessed' who the true Lightning Thief was (which earned me a serious meeting with Chiron about withholding my concerning abilities and that I should consult with him should I ever experience such visions again. Spoiler: I didn't.)

"Hi." I replied, smiling but still tending to my manual labor of feeding the Hermes chariot's horses apples and petting them affectionately.
"I'm Percy. It's nice to meet you." The boy extended a hand and instead of shaking it, I handed him another apple and moved over. "Hey, I know this is kind of random, and I know that we've never talked..." He began, feeding the apple to the horse with a gentleness that I'd never seen come from anyone before.

"What were you saying?" I asked, my head tilting. He spent a second looking at the horse, concentration across his scowl, before turning to me completely, half leaning on the horse's side.
"Not to pry or anything, but I've heard some stuff and... I had a question."

I tried to look surprised, give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he wants to know what my interests are? Maybe he's interested in getting tips on how to master Capture the Flag? Despite all of these excuses I hoped he would have, I knew better than to assume the best of someone so idolized like Percy. I waited for him to ask me the question he had.

"Annabeth told me something, something to do with your dreams?"
I tilted my head. "My dreams?"
"She said you claim they're prophetic, and I was hoping you could tell me–"
"Look, Percy Jackson." I interrupted, wincing apologetically. I was not about to get involved with the infamous demigod. "I'm no expert. And if you're looking for advice, I'm not the person to go to." I told him. His expression shifted to half crestfallen, half accepting "I'm sorry." I added very quickly, giving my final apple to the horse and taking my station on the sidelines and stands, ready to support the chariot of my cabin despite the fact that those riding it could very well not be my true family members and I was not particularly an avid chariot race watcher.

"Charioteers!" Tantalus shouted, signifying the beginning of the race. "Attend your mark!" He waved his hand and the starting signal dropped. The chariots roared to life. Hooves thundered against the dirt. The crowd around me cheered.

Almost immediately there was a loud nasty crack as the Apollo chariot flipped over. The Hermes chariot had rammed into it—maybe by mistake, maybe not. The riders were thrown free, but their panicked horses dragged the golden chariot diagonally across the track.

My team, the Hermes team, led by Travis and Connor Stoll, were laughing at their good luck, but not for long. The Apollo horses crashed into theirs, and the Hermes chariot flipped too, leaving a pile of broken wood and four rearing horses in the dust. I flinched and leaned on my tiptoes to get a better look.

I instead got a better view of something so familiar that I recognised it as something out of my visions. Stymphalian birds. Pigeons lying in the trees hidden in plain sight, their eyes were beady and evil-looking and their beaks made of bronze.

I had researched them the minute I woke up from the dream, but not enough to prepare me as almost in a split second, swarming-thousands of them began dive-bombing the spectators around me. There was no rattle in my hand nor poisonous arrow at the ready to take them down.

Some of the spectators were trying to fight back. The Athena campers were calling for shields. The archers from Apollo's cabin brought out their bows and arrows, ready to slay the menace, but with so many campers mixed in with the birds, it wasn't safe to shoot.

"Too many!" Percy Jackson yelled to Annabeth Chase below. "How do you get rid of them?" His eyes darted around and met mine. A silent plea traveled between us. I gulped and mouthed 'noise!' to him, hoping it was understandable enough to him between being knocked around by frantic campers trying not to get stripped to the bone.

Percy and Annabeth exchanged urgent conversation before disappearing in the direction of the Big House with Clarisse shouting victorious nonsense at them. Dodging and weaving was not doing it for me as my arms got pecked and the birds drew blood.

Suddenly the air was filled with violins and a bunch of guys moaning in Italian.

The demon pigeons went nuts. They started flying in circles, running into each other like they wanted to bash their own brains out. Then they abandoned the track altogether and flew skyward in a huge dark wave.

"Now!" shouted Annabeth. "Archers!"

With clear targets, Apollo's archers had flawless aim. Most of them could nock five or six arrows at once. Within minutes, the ground was littered with dead bronze-beaked pigeons, and the survivors were a distant trail of smoke on the horizon.

The camp was saved, but the wreckage wasn't pretty. Most of the chariots had been completely destroyed. Almost everyone was wounded, bleeding from multiple bird pecks. The kids from Aphrodite's cabin were screaming because their hairdos had been ruined and their clothes pooped on.

I could only imagine what I looked like. Hair ruffled, sweat glistening on my forehead. Bloody, clothes torn, shell shock perplexion painted in worry lines across my face.

"Bravo!" Tantalus said, but he wasn't looking at Percy or Annabeth who had gotten the music to deter the birds. "We have our first winner!" He walked to the finish line and awarded the golden laurels for the race to a stunned-looking Clarisse.

Then he turned and smiled at Percy. "And now to punish the troublemakers who disrupted this race."