Percy Jackson and the Child of Victory (Annabeth Chase x Reader)

We Board The Princess Andromeda

Percy was staring at the waves when Me, Annabeth and Tyson found Him. "What's going on?" Annabeth asked. "I heard you calling for help!" "Me, too!" Tyson said. "Heard you yell, 'Bad things are attacking!'"

"I didn't call you guys," He said. "I'm fine." "But then who ..." I noticed the three yellow duffel bags, then the thermos and the bottle of vitamins I was holding. "What—"

"Just listen," he said. "We don't have much time." he told us about his conversation with Hermes. By the time he was finished, we could hear screeching in the distance—patrol harpies picking up our scent.

"Percy," Annabeth said, "we have to do the quest." "We'll get expelled, you know. Trust me, I'm an expert at getting expelled."

"So? If we fail, there won't be any camp to come back to." 

"Yeah, but you promised Chiron—"

"we promised we'd keep you from danger. we can only do that by coming with you! Tyson can stay behind and tell them—" Annie said but Tyson cut her off "I want to go," Tyson said. "No!" Annabeth's voice sounded close to panic. "I mean ... Percy, come on. You know that's impossible." I wondered again why she had such a grudge against Cyclopes. There was something she wasn't telling me.

we all looked at Percy, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, the cruise ship was getting farther and farther away- wait cruise ship?.

I could tell Percy didn't want Tyson along. he'd spent the last three days in close quarters with the guy, getting razzed by the other campers and embarrassed a million times a day, constantly reminded that he was related to him. he needed some space.

Plus, I didn't know how much help he'd be, or how I'd keep him safe. Sure, he was strong, but Tyson was a little kid in Cyclops terms, maybe seven or eight years old, mentally. I could see him freaking out and starting to cry while we were trying to sneak past a monster or something. He'd get us all killed.

On the other hand, the sound of the harpies was getting closer.... "We can't leave him," he decided. "Tantalus will punish him for us being gone." "Percy," Annabeth said, trying to keep her cool, "we're going to Polyphemus's island! Polyphemus is an S-i-k ... a C-y-k . .." She stamped her foot in frustration. As smart as she was, Annabeth was dyslexic, too. We could've been there all night while she tried to spell Cyclops. "You know what I mean!" I squeezed her hand to try and calm her nerves.

"Tyson can go," he insisted, "if he wants to." Tyson clapped his hands. "Want to!" Annabeth gave him the evil eye, but I guess she could tell he wasn't going to change his mind. Or maybe she just knew we didn't have time to argue. "All right," she said. "How do we get to that ship?"

"Hermes said my father would help." "Well then, Seaweed Brain? What are you waiting for?" he stepped into the waves. "Urn, Dad?" he called. "How's it going?" "Percy!" Annabeth whispered. "We're in a hurry!" "We need your help," he called a little louder. "We need to get to that ship, like, before we get eaten and stuff, so ..." "Hurry up, Fish Boy!" I yelled as I unclasped my spear.

At first, nothing happened. Waves crashed against the shore like normal. The harpies sounded like they were right behind the sand dunes. Then, about a hundred yards out to sea, three white lines appeared on the surface. They moved fast toward the shore, like claws ripping through the ocean.

As they neared the beach, the surf burst apart and the heads of three white stallions reared out of the waves. Tyson caught his breath. "Fish ponies!" He was right. As the creatures pulled themselves onto the sand, I saw that they were only horses in the front; their back halves were silvery fish bodies, with glistening scales and rainbow tail fins.

"Hippocampi!" Annabeth said. "They're beautiful." The nearest one whinnied in appreciation and nuzzled Annabeth. "We'll admire them later," Percy said. "Come on!" "There!" a voice screeched behind us. "Bad children out of cabins! Snack time for lucky harpies!" Five of them were fluttering over the top of the dunes—plump little hags with pinched faces and talons and feathery wings too small for their bodies. They reminded me of miniature cafeteria ladies who'd been crossbred with dodo birds.