Percy Jackson Series. Annabeth Chase X Male Reader Story

I Crash My Chariot Into Some Pigeons

(Y/N)'s POV

"You're seriously going to try this?" Lou Ellen asked me as I collected my stuff near the new race track. I shook my head, "Do, or do not. There is no try." She sighed at me. She had been protesting my brilliant idea since breakfast this morning when I proposed my idea.

"It's a completely different principle to what you're thinking it is. If you lose control for a second, you'll be standing on a pile of wood going twenty miles an hour!" "Only twenty? You underestimate my power."

"You're going to break both your legs and I'm not helping you do it." "That's fine, I was going to do it myself anyway, I just wanted your two cents. And I'm not going to break my legs. I'm wearing my lucky shirt."

She examined my shirt quickly before I covered it up. "It's...it's just a bunch of dots." She posed like a question, "Exactly." I said, she didn't understand my vision when I asked Selina to make this shirt.

She shook off her confusion and continued arguing with me, "You can't just do something because you've seen people do it in reverse a few times, that's not how magic works. Plus you don't even have a spell book."

I shrugged, "I've always considered myself more of a warlock, a charisma caster." She was still stunned, "...what?" I waved her off. So she finally asked, "Why the sudden interest in magic anyway?"

"I don't want to keep relying on the powers of Olympus and my father to save me." I said, pointing to my gauntlets. She finally nodded in understanding but seemed reluctant to give me the go ahead on my magic.

"It's going to be like keeping something both solid and liquid at the same time, it's downright impossible for a beginner." "I've made it solid before, I've made it liquid before. How hard can it be to do both? I mean, this is me we are talking about." I said.

Percy's POV

The morning of the race was hot and humid. Fog lay low on the ground like sauna steam. Millions of birds were roosting in the trees – fat grey-and-white pigeons, except they didn't coo like regular pigeons. They made this annoying metallic screeching sound that reminded me of submarine radar.

The racetrack had been built in a grassy field between the archery range and the woods. Hephaestus's cabin had used the bronze bulls, which were completely tame since they'd had their heads smashed in, to plough an oval track in a matter of minutes.

There were rows of stone steps for the spectators – Tantalus, the satyrs, a few dryads and all of the campers who weren't participating. Mr D didn't show. He never got up before ten o'clock.

"Right!" Tantalus announced as the teams began to assemble. A naiad had brought him a big platter of pastries, and as Tantalus spoke his right hand chased a chocolate eclair across the judge's table.

"You all know the rules. A quarter-mile track. Twice around to win. Two horses per chariot. Each team will consist of a driver and a fighter. Weapons are allowed. Dirty tricks are expected. But try not to kill anybody!"

Tantalus smiled at us like we were all naughty children. "Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s'mores at the campfire for a week! Now ready your chariots!" Beckendorf led the Hephaestus team onto the track.

They had a sweet ride made of bronze and iron – even the horses, which were magical automatons like the Colchis bulls. I had no doubt that their chariot had all kinds of mechanical traps and more fancy options than a fully loaded Maserati.

The Ares chariot was blood-red, and pulled by two grisly horse skeletons. Clarisse climbed aboard with a batch of javelins, spiked balls, caltrops and a bunch of other nasty toys.