The Pirate of Greece

Chapter IV (Annabeth)

She was half tempted to drag him out of the wash rooms after waiting outside for the past 15 minutes. Annabeth had no intention on waiting on a criminal, but unfortunately for her Jackson was the only person she could rely on at the moment, especially for the job she intended him to do.

Her thoughts wondered back to the dingy cell she had pulled him from and the conversation they had had previously.

Curse the Gods, she thought, out of all the Demigods I could have found.

It was just her luck to end up with the likes of a Poseidon child. Even before she asked him she had her suspicions. Annabeth could definitely tell he was a Demigod of sorts, but Poseidon? She felt like the fates were playing a cruel joke on her. How were they meant to get along if their parents couldn't even settle a centuries year old feud? At the moment she had to come to terms with Jackson otherwise her plan would fail.

She was hastily taken out of her thoughts when the washing room door opened before her. The sun rays coming from the floor length window she lent against cast light upon the person exiting. It was none other than her criminal. He had donned another cleaner pair of black sailor pants that were tucked into the exact same boots as before. But instead of his shirt being white it was a dull green and twice as large, cotton rope criss-crossed against his chest. His sash was gone along with the dirt and grime from his capture.

Annabeth saw him look at her and then tug at the sleeves of his shirt.

"You would think there'd be a size to fit me," he said, "but I have a feeling the seamstress took pleasure in handing this over."

"It will do," she said plainly and started walking. 

"Hey, wait up."

Jackson jogged a couple of steps before falling in next to her. They continued on in silence throughout the twisting stone walls of the palace, passing the occasional staff and stopping once from colliding with a heavily fruit burdened carrier. Jackson had tried to sneak an apple off of the top of the pile, but Annabeth had hit his hand away before he succeeded.

After five slightly awkward minutes of walking side by side, she had to suppress a sigh of relief when the throne room doors came into sight. She paused just before the heavy timber structure and beckoned for her captive to do the same.

"Before we go in," she said, "try to refrain from doing anything stupid."

He quickly ran a hand through his hair and shook the strands while grinning. "Me doing something stupid? Never." She rolled her eyes and nearly dreaded the moment to come.

"Just stay beside me," General Chase ordered.

Her hands reached out to push the doors aside, and with a strong shove they parted. Inside the throne room white gilded marble columns ran each length of the walls, large glass windows built in behind it to overlook the city of Athens. The ceiling reached to a grand height as wooden beams arched with the curve of the dome. A mosaic depicting the Gods had been inlaid into the floor with a clear walkway painted into the middle.

Annabeth followed this path towards the back where a group of people had already gathered. She heard rather than saw Jackson following her and stopped when she stopped just behind the crowd. It seemed like a mix of soldiers and nobles stood before the dais, each barking out their own opinion. 

"Who is that?" Jackson asked her after nudging his elbow into her arm. She followed his line of sight and came to a rest on the bronze throne. Seated in the high back chair was a girl with choppy brown hair styled into a braid with a golden feather entwined to the end. Her dress was a simple white chiton with golden bangles lining her arms, a stark contrast to her light chocolate complexion.