Buried Treasure

Chapter Twenty Three

The first thing Annabeth noticed when they walked into the throne room was the arrow flying through the air straight to her heart. In a simple flick or the wrist Annabeth had the arrow split it two. The guards who were stationed protecting the king were dumbfounded. Giving Percy the perfect opening to attack. The king was just standing by letting other men die in his place. Annabeth was enraged. All the horrid memories of what he had done to her hit her at once sending her into action.

Percy and her split off into two directions taking what ever weapons they could find. Percy had found an abandoned bow and was letting arrows fly one after another. Her father still protected by his guards stood watching. He knew this day would come when his daughter would come find him again. Two guards lunged after Annabeth, but she was too fast for them. She dodged, swiped, stabbed, kicked in every direction. She barely register the slice of the blade against her cheek. Blood slowly wept down her cheek. Seeing her only blood only angered her more.

Percy, fending off more guards with his flying arrows, caught a glimpse of the storm cloud that was Annabeth. She was moving so fast, her limbs almost blurred. Percy managed to keep all the guards at a distance before shooting them down. There was shouting among the guards but Percy didn't hear. He was only focused on keeping Annabeth safe while she got to the king.

The last guard fell before her clutching his bleeding chest. The dagger in her hand was already slick with blood. Annabeth didn't even feel tired. She was fueled by the rage she felt for her father. Finally no one stood between her and the king. He had a sword clasped in his hand, no doubt from a fallen guard. It was clear he wasn't skilled but his own eyes reflected cold anger. "I've been waiting for the day you would come. I've been waiting so I can finally rid myself of you." He lunged right at her, sword out. In a fluid arc, her blade collided with his creating a steel X. Anger flared in his eyes as Annabeth gritted her teeth against her father's strength. "Give up. You know you're no match for me. You never have been." He pressed against his blade more. Annabeth felt her strength crumbling under her father's.

That was until she heard Percy's voice. "You don't know anything about her." He growled still fighting off oncoming guards from the door. "She'll be more than you'll ever be." Annabeth almost wished she could have a moment to melt at his words, before she was flooded with new strength. Strength of Percy's faith in her. Her steel gray eyes met her father's and her lips curled into a smirk. "Wrong move father." As quick as she could, she jabbed her elbow into her father's side, hard. Hard enough she could feel the bone crack against her force. He gasped and steps back. White hot fury covered his face as he raised his sword to kill her. Annabeth delivered a kick sending him onto the ground. In a second she had the dagger against his throat with cold anger in her eyes. Eyes that were so like her father's.

She wanted him dead. She wanted him suffering. She wanted him to feel the pain she felt. She wanted her father to pay. As the dagger moved and pressed against the Kings silk covered chest, the words of the dying man came back to her. "Your heart is just as dark as your father's." In that moment, Annabeth could see herself in her father's eyes. She looked cold and murdering. A monster. She looked just like her father. She had become the one thing she always feared; her father.

Her father had the look of utter fear in his eyes upon gazing at his daughter. She had become a monster. She had become her father. The once great king Amadeus who stood with all the glory in the kingdom, looked pathetic cowering before a young girl. It was simple. Her father was a coward. Living in fear that someday his daughter would come. Always hiding behind others to do his bidding.

Annabeth shakes her head making her blond curls brush the blood on her cheek. "No. I'm not like you. I will never be like you." She pulled the dagger back a fraction. She wouldn't be like her father. She wouldn't be a monster for her freedoms to love. He gazed up at her, that fear in his eyes turning to anger. "You always were weak." His tone was cruel. "You could never do anything right. To weak to even fight you father." His hand connected so hard with annabeths face it sent her flying back onto the ground. Sword clattering out of reach. Blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth as her head collided with the stone floor. She groans softly. The room spinning.

The king got to his feet and brushed off his robes as if her mere touch soiled them. "Pathetic excuse for a daughter. You should have been hanged that day with the Pirates. You're nothing more than a filthy disappointment. You are nothing. A stain on the royal family's name I tried so hard to erase. But now, I will make sure you never disobey me again." He picks up the sword, wincing slightly in pain from his broken ribs. He walked over to her and dropped to his knees. The sword clutched in his outstretched hands, point directly above her chest. Her heart. "Any last words?" He asked raising his hands.

Through the throbbing pain in her head, she could feel her hair matted with blood. It trickled down her scalp. She looks up at her father. "You're wrong. I'm a pirate." Her voice was weak as the room began spinning. There was a ringing in her ears that was so loud she barely heard the familiar voice cry out "no", before her father brought down the final blow.

The gasp rang through the silent throne room. The guards had stopped coming and Percy could only stare in complete shock. Annabeth managed to open her eyes and see her dagger, the one that had been with her for years, hilt deep in her father's heart. His blade was inches from her chest. Blood began seeping through the gold silk of her father's robes as he stared at her with wide eyes.

Time seemed to slow as he took in the dagger in his chest and his daughters pale hand grasping the hilt. She looks up at him as his hand covers hers. The face that had at some point in her life held her and comforted her. The face which had slowly began the face of her night mares. The face of her father. "I'm sorry." She whispered as he fell off and laid beside her. Annabeth watched as the life went from eyes and felt the last squeeze of his hand on hers. In that moment when her father slipped away completely, she felt the curse break.