A Half Blood Against Time | A Percy Jackson AU

37: "You've been bossy since birth, then,"

"Fleur. We're here." Percy whispered gently into the veela's ears and shook her awake. Fleur roused from her sleep slowly. She stretched, feeling the pull of muscles tired from sitting too long. Her breath misted faintly in the familiar chill air, and she realized that Percy had pulled a thick woolen blanket over her while she slept, his thoughtfulness warming her more than the fabric itself. She nestled deeper into it, allowing herself a quiet moment of comfort as the blanket smelled faintly of the sea, smelled of Percy.

Rubbing her eyes, Fleur looked around. The world outside had transformed; snow blanketed the landscape in an undisturbed sheet of white that sparkled like stars had been scattered across the ground. Branches of tall fir trees were laden with snow, their limbs bending slightly under the weight, and a light frost clung to the carriage windows, framing her view in delicate, frosty patterns. The only sounds were the rhythmic clop of the horses' hooves crunching through snow and the occasional soft jingle of their harness bells, which seemed almost magical in the stillness of the early morning.

Percy sat opposite her, his face softened by the dawn light as he gazed out the window now, lost in thought. Fleur smiled softly, watching him for a moment before he turned and noticed her. His eyes brightened as he smiled back at her.

"Sleep well?" he asked, his voice quiet and gentle.

Fleur nodded, stretching again. "Oui, thank you," she murmured. "I didn't realize I was so tired." She glanced outside, taking in the familiar landscape of northern France that she hadn't seen in weeks. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Percy followed her gaze, nodding in agreement. "More than I expected. Everything looks like a painting."

Fleur chuckled softly. "You're about to experience a real French winter, Percy. I hope you're ready." She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, though the sight of home filled her with a growing sense of warmth.

As they neared the Delacour estate, the carriage slowed, and she could see the familiar path winding up to the house. The garden, usually filled with flowers and trimmed hedges, lay quiet beneath the snow, its statues and fountains half-hidden beneath frosty coverings. For Fleur, the sight of it stirred a sense of nostalgia and warmth she hadn't fully realized she'd been missing.

Percy took her hand as they reached the final curve, his touch grounding her amidst the flurry of emotions. "You look... peaceful," he said softly.

Fleur smiled, leaning into him slightly. "It's home," she replied, her voice a whisper, as though speaking the words too loudly might disturb the spell of the moment.

The carriage came to a stop, and for a moment, they sat in quiet reverence, savoring the anticipation of what lay ahead. Then, with a last steadying breath, Fleur let go of Percy's hand, ready to step back into the warmth and love of her family.

As the carriage door swung open, Fleur stepped down, drawing in a deep breath of the crisp, wintry air. Snow crunched softly under her boots as she took in the familiar sight of the Delacour estate, its grand stone facade softened by a dusting of white. The early morning sun cast a gentle glow over everything, illuminating icicles that hung from the eaves and casting shadows across the yard. Percy emerged behind her, blinking at the brightness, his gaze sweeping across the estate with a blend of admiration and quiet nervousness. Fleur gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, feeling the reassuring warmth through their gloves.

"It's like stepping into another world," Percy murmured, glancing at the frost-covered statues in the garden. Fleur's heart swelled with pride, both for her beautiful home and for the man beside her, who looked genuinely taken by the place. Although he had been here before, the estate covered by snow was something out of a fairytale.