𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘 ! ━ 𝙋. 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙆𝙎𝙊𝙉

x.

𖤓

The Queen Anne's Revenge responded to Percy's every command. He was calling for ropes to hoist and sails to raise like a skilled sailor with years of experience. He knew exactly (at least Marcel hoped he did) which direction to steer. They plowed through the waves at about fifteen knots - that was what Percy answered when asked. Marcel had absolutely no idea how fast that was. Apparently, for a sailing ship this old, really fucking fast.

Percy seemed very pleased with their situation. It wasn't that clear if you just spared him a glance, but if you looked at him longer, you could see it easily.

How his eyes slightly squinted as the wind swept onto his face and his dark hair out of his forehead. The way his expression lightened up just a little as the sea breeze reached his bare skin. The sound of waves breaking over the prow was like a comforting blanket.

He really was in his element, and wasn't that a sight to see.

Then, his face dropped, all of contentment gone in a blink of an eye.

Marcel walked up the stairs from the waist of the ship to the quarterdeck, where the helm was. He figured he wouldn't be much of a help with the mast, so he could as well have a talk with Percy.

"Hey," Marcel called out. He was fiddling with one of the golden threads he took out of his hair, feeling a litlle bit nervous. Why was he even nervous? It was just Percy, for gods' sake.

The boy looked at him, quickly scanning him from head to toe, and just as fast turned back to look at the dusky horizon. "Hey."

There were a few moments of silence. One that Marcel could only describe as awkward.

He leaned with his elbows on the wooden railing behind him. He stared at Percy, keeping the ship's course for a while, before he finally spoke up, "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Percy asked immediately, looking like a confused baby seal. He was looking at Marcel again.

"For what I told you at the campfire," he answered. This time, he was the one staring at the sea surrounding them. "I was being mean."

Percy pursed his lips and his dark brows furrowed. "No, you were... kinda right."

One of Marcel's palms formed into a fist. "I felt bitter, and... Anyway, there was no reason for me to be so harsh. You didn't deserve it."

"No," Percy said firmly. "I know how important going on a quest was for you, and I still insisted on going. I'm sorry."

Marcel looked back at the teen in front of him in surprise. He held back a smile forcing its way onto his face, and sighed. "I guess both of us are stubborn dickheads right now."

Percy snorted. "Yeah, I guess we are."

The following silence was much more comforting than before.

The sky was darkening more with each passing minute. Annabeth seemed to have had enough of rocking back and forth. Her whole face turned the color of guacamole (see Mr. D? She was more like Mike Wazowski than he was), and she went below to lie in a hammock.

Marcel saw a row of green spines slithering across the waves - something maybe a hundred feet long, reptilian, as Percy once again spoke up, "I would take you with me, you know?"

"Huh?"

"I mean," he cleared his throat. "The quest. When Hermes-"

"What?"

"Oh. Yeah." Percy nodded awkwardly, as if the whole conversation was beginning to make him anxious. "We're here because of him. He gave us a- a bunch of stuff, like the multivitamins."