Climb (Percy Jackson x Reader)

thirty-two

✺ PIECES ON A CHESSBOARD ✺

(Y/N) closes her eyes, stretching herself out on the floor of her cabin. She can feel the amusement radiating from Grover, Annabeth, and Percy. Letting out a deep exhale, she allows her muscles to relax.

"So, to recap . . ." Annabeth's eyebrows bunch in the middle, and she begins counting on her fingers—"after you were brought back, the gods were talking about how Zeus acted stupidly to avoid a prophecy we know nothing about—"

"Yep," (Y/N) says. She rubs her temples to rid herself of the headache that remains after the past twenty-four hours.

"—then Ares managed to steal the Helm of Darkness from the Underworld, and after you got it back, he didn't give you any explanation as to why he took it—"

"Technically. He said it was 'part of a plan' and then blew a bunch of motorcycle exhaust into my face before vanishing."

Percy scrunches his nose in disgust.

"—and then the younger ones got cursed because Apollo upset some gods by magically making a kid, and he told you yesterday that Zeus explicitly said he wasn't happy with that." Annabeth looks up from her fingers, her lips slightly pursed. "Right?"

(Y/N) sighs, flapping her arms a bit. She opens her eyes, blinking to clear her vision. "Right."

Annabeth hums in consideration, crossing her legs under her. She leans against the frame of (Y/N)'s boho chair. "And you . . . you checked with Hermes today? About Kronos?"

The air seems to ripple with tension at the Titan's name. (Y/N) clenches her jaw.

After the scare of dealing with Kronos's dying curse—curtesy of the Arai, her bones linger with a sort of phantom soreness—she made the decision to check up on the Titan's essence, its constraints, and its protector. Hermes had relieved her concerns with his thorough system of protection around the glass orb. (Y/N)'s remaining uncertainty had faded with his explanation of the given help by Hecate, Demeter, and Athena to ensure its security.

"Safe," (Y/N) says, leaving it at that.

The atmosphere lightens. Annabeth nods, though her eyebrows pinch together in a troubled expression. She frowns at her thoughts.

Grover bites into a soda can. Annabeth jumps. (Y/N) winces, rubbing her head with more force.

Grover cringes at the noise, whispering, "Sorry!" He adjusts himself on the lower mattress of (Y/N)'s bunk bed, his hooves hanging over the edge.

Annabeth waves him off, and he grins before taking another bite and shuddering at its volume. Annabeth lets out a soft groan, and (Y/N) chuckles.

With a sigh, Grover sets the can aside. He looks at it mournfully before shooting a glare to the back of Annabeth's head. Apparently wishing for something to occupy his hands, he begins picking at a loose thread on (Y/N)'s comforter.

A thin tendril rises from the floorboards, and Grover yanks his hand away before it slaps him. (Y/N) meets his nasty look with a raised eyebrow.

Still longing to fidget, he scratches at one of his horns, trying not to jostle the green bow he'd tied on. Despite his efforts, his finger knocks it somewhat askew, and he gasps.

(Y/N) had given him the pieces of ribbon a few years ago as a joke gift, but once his horns grew long enough, he'd surprised her by leaning into the look. To her even greater surprise, the bows looked incredible on him.

She fights her laugh at his frantic attempts to re-adjust the bow, nearly undoing the other one in the process.

Sitting in the desk chair, Percy snickers. The satyr looks at him with confusion, and Percy points at his second horn. With muttered curses, Grover tugs at the ribbon. The first bow spins around to face the wall.