conqueror • percy jackson

1.

"Tomorrow morning, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Pushing herself away from her place against the wall, Annabeth says, "I'll start packing." She turns to disappear when Chiron speaks up again, freezing her in her tracks.

"Rosalyn Carter would be a valuable asset. I cannot make your decision for you, but I encourage you to invite her along."

The air in the room was charged as Annabeth's shoulders tensed. Percy's eyes bounced between Chiron and the blonde, feeling suddenly out of place. Rosalyn Carter. He'd been hearing whispers about a Rosalyn since he arrived.

"She's not at camp yet," Annabeth ground through her clenched teeth. The easy smile on Chiron's face unmoving.

"She's due back tonight."

A silent conversation appeared to be happening between the two. The minutes began to tick by before Grover leaned toward Percy, talking out of the side of his mouth.

"Rosalyn's an Aphrodite camper. Gorgeous. Scary."

"Aphrodite?" Percy sputtered before he could stop himself. All eyes swiveled to him at his outburst. His cheeks burned at the attention, but his mind wandered away from the room.

"Chiron's right. Rosalyn's smart, and she's the best swordswoman we have," Annabeth sighed begrudgingly. It wasn't that she didn't like Rosalyn Carter. There were few people Annabeth respected more than the redhead, but it came down to a matter of parentage... as it so often does.

Rosalyn is a daughter of Aphrodite, and Annabeth is a daughter of Athena. Despite the respect Annabeth harbored for Rosalyn, they could not be more different. The unspoken challenge, and the pride that went along with it, was too much to resist.

Wisdom, above all else.

"Do not let her godly parent fool you, Percy. Love is a powerful thing," Chiron speaks, breaking both demigods out of their thoughts.

Grover whispered loudly, "And Rosalyn's the only person Annabeth has ever lost a game of chess to."

"Hey!"

-

Just like Chiron said, Rosalyn returned that evening. Annabeth spotted her first, snatching Percy by the arm and dragging him after the girl. Grover rushes to keep up, and his loud steps must alert Rosalyn to their presence.

Pausing her footsteps, she turns around slowly and eyes Annabeth cautiously, "Everything alright?"

"Chiron's granted a quest," Annabeth says in a rushed voice. The red-haired girl drops the duffel bag from her shoulder in shock, letting it fall with a thud into the dirt. "Poseidon claimed a son three days ago."

It was then that Percy Jackson saw who everyone had been talking about since he arrived at camp. She sees him at the same time, her features smoothing into a look of cold indifference.

"Percy."

"I don't like apples," seven-year-old Rosalyn pouted, peering into her lunchbox.

Her best friend, dutiful as ever, offered up the blueberries from his own lunch.

"Trade?"

"Yes! Thanks, Percy."

"Rosie," he sighs, partially in disbelief and partially in worry.

Before any of them can process the exchange, Rosalyn is scooping her bag from the ground and turning to walk away from them. Annabeth's eyes are blown wide, and she's scurrying after her a beat later.

"You know him?" Annabeth's voice has adopted a shrill tone. She whips her head over her shoulder to glare at Percy, growling, "You know her, and you didn't say anything?"

The dark laughter coming from Rosalyn halts the trio in the tracks, Grover and Annabeth tensing uncomfortably. That was never a good sign. Deciding to play her last card, Annabeth stiffly takes a step closer to the dueling arena Rosalyn is heading for.

Huffing loudly, she spits, "Look, I don't know what your deal is with Seaweed Brain over here, but this quest is important. The Gods are on the brink of war."

"What does that have to do with me, Annabeth?"

"Chiron told us to ask you to go with us," Percy says, finally finding his voice. The sigh of defeat coming from Grover was as good a sign as any that he said the wrong thing.

"No, thanks."

Annabeth gives him a deadly look, which he takes as his cue to let her handle this.

"The quest is to the Underworld. Zeus's master bolt was stolen." The blonde's face pinches like she'd just sucked a lemon as she grunts, "We need your help."

Rosalyn's head tilts to the side, and an aggravated breath escapes her throat. They did need her help. If she said no, they'd surely die. If she said yes, they still might... but the chances would be slimmer.

As angry as she was, she couldn't stomach letting Percy die.

"Leave me alone," ten-year-old Percy huffed.

Percy was being bullied. Again.

The boy picking on him grabbed his lunchbox, pulling out the container of blueberries inside. Rosie arrived at that point, her eyes narrowing at the sight. Percy always traded her apple for his blueberries.

"Hey!" Rosie yelled, delivering a swift kick to the taller boy's shin. When he cried out and released her berries, she turned to her friend and smiled.

"Ready for lunch, Perce?"

Without turning around, Rosalyn asked shortly, "When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Fine."

Grover threw an excited fist in the air, earning a sharp look from Annabeth, while Percy gaped at the redhead's back. Fine?

Oh, great. As if this wasn't bad enough.

Clarisse burst from the dueling arena gate carrying her sword. Percy felt himself go rigid at the sight of her weapon, prepared for the hateful girl to start a fight.

Her wide grin unsettled him more.

"Rosalyn! About time you showed up!" Clarisse bellowed merrily. Seriously, what? "These jokers giving you trouble?" There it is.

"Like you wouldn't believe. I'm leaving for a quest tomorrow," Rosie chuckled. The Daughter of Ares was the picture of shock, but it quickly changed to pride.

Clapping Rosalyn heavily on the back, Clarisse laughed, "Then we'd better get some training in."

"I'll see you in the morning," Rosalyn throws over her shoulder. She doesn't wait for a response before following Clarisse into the arena.

Once she is out of sight, Annabeth and Grover round on him wearing looks of exasperation and worry. Annabeth spoke first, hissing angrily.

"What did you do to her?"

"Look—"

"Rosalyn is not someone you want on your bad side, maan," Grover bleats, visibly anxious over the situation. "You think Clarisse is bad? Rosalyn's her best friend."

Great.