The Arranged Marriage (Percy Jackson Fanfiction)

Nine

Percy stood up and clapped as Annabeth walked in. She looked up at him, startled.

"You heard?" Annabeth inquired, plopping down on her bed across from his.

"Information travels quickly in Crete. Everyone knows everyone and everyone tells everyone." Percy grinned in spite of himself. "It gets annoying."

"I like it," Annabeth murmured, sliding her hands along her sheets. "In Athens, everyone keeps to themselves. I didn't have friends as a kid. Only Luke. And you know how well that turned out."

Percy could see tears forming in Annabeth's eyes and he started to panic. "Don't cry!" He composed himself. "I never know what to do when girls, or anyone, cry."

Annabeth laughed pathetically, and wiped away her fallen tears. "Ugh, I don't cry. What's happening to me?"

"You've gone through a lot," Percy said sympathetically, "moving, meetings like today's, and dealing with me."

"You are pretty annoying," Annabeth admitted.

Percy wanted to be offended but he basically had just said it himself. "And you aren't?"

Annabeth huffed playfully. "I don't claim to be perfect—" Percy snickered, because she had the first day he met her, "—but I'm no Percy Jackson."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Percy snapped.

Annabeth grinned. "Oh, nothing," she said, sliding off of her bed, glancing over her shoulder at Percy as she removed her earrings, necklace and ceremonial laurels. She glanced down at her finger, and Percy wondered if she was thinking out the engagement ring sitting there. It was simple. Percy had been supposed to pick it out a while back but he was so angry that he pointed at the first one he saw, not caring if it was unflattering or not befit of a princess. As it turned out, Annabeth seemed to like it, which was a lucky mistake.

She glanced at it for a moment longer before disappearing into the closet to change. Percy collapsed onto his bed, his head filling with his schedule for the next day. Training. Meetings. Wedding preparations. War consolation. More training.

Percy almost passed out again just thinking about it. Not to mention classes afterwards on geography. The countries of Eastern Europe swam in his head. Austria-Hungary. Czechoslovakia. Slovenia. Belarus. Italy. And so on.

"Agh," Percy slung his arm over eyes, blocking the light of the burning lanterns in his room. Spots danced across the backs of his eyelids—red, blue, green and yellow. A headache bloomed at the back of his neck, opening wide like a wild flower, its petals brushing his forehead and neck. He reached across himself and slapped at his dresser, finally finding the herbs he wanted. He mixed the herbs and rubbed the paste on the back of his neck.

Annabeth reappeared, in fresh night clothes and brushed hair. She scrunched her eyebrows together. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he murmured. "I get headaches. It's normal."

Annabeth looked worried, but shrugged. She sat on her bed, then, "I want to know about you."

"What?" Percy asked, mystified. "What do you mean?"

"Let's face it. We're getting married, whether we like it or not. To make it better, I suggest we get to know each other; become friends," Annabeth said hopefully.

Percy agreed, though he really wasn't feeling at his best. He pushed himself onto his elbows, and leaned against his headboard. He smiled painfully at Annabeth.

She gave an odd look. "Are you okay?"

"Never better," Percy muttered sarcastically. "No, sorry. I get bad migraines at least once a month. Sometimes they're crippling, or sometimes I just feel like I'm resting in Tartarus. It varies really."