The Blood of Olympus (The Heroes of Olympus: Book Five; Original Fanfic)

Annabeth (I)

Annabeth hugged her pillow for comfort. Normally it would have been Percy, but he’d gone to his room before she had, looking sad and remorseful. She knew he’d been thinking of Bob and Damasen, and she couldn’t blame him for being unhappy. So she’d watched until he’d disappeared into his room.

Annabeth had hoped her Seaweed Brain would be all right. Not that anyone would be all right after a Titan and a Giant sacrificed their lives for them, but as good and all right as anyone like Percy had the right to be. She rolled sideways and gazed at the moon and stars, wishing that their Titan friend were here. For probably the first and only time in her life, Annabeth wished she were back in Tartarus, in the company of friends. Nico di Angelo would probably look at her like she was crazy for thinking that way, but she didn’t mind. She knew the kid well enough to know that he had his own reasonable reasons for thinking that way.

Then Annabeth heard the pouring of rain outside and the sound of Leo’s and Piper’s voices as they yelled in surprise, and the sound of heavy footsteps, probably theirs’, thundering down. She smiled to her pillow, thinking of friends, and wishing she could fall asleep as easily as the rain was falling in thick sheets now.

She looked up to the ceiling, and, to her horror, saw something move, something that had something that glinted like diamonds in the dark, but then she blinked again, and the figure was gone. She sat up, blinking harder, trying to stop the inevitable flow of tears, remembering how she had once felt terrified of Damasen’s presence. She gulped back a sob and gazed into the darkness. She could hear an owl hooting outside, though how an owl had made it to the middle of the ocean at night, she didn’t know. A tiny, hopeful part of her supposed Athena sent the owl to guard her; to protect her, and she felt a warm feeling, possibly gratitude, spread to the very tips of her fingers and toes. She felt loved.

Annabeth fell asleep just as the clock outside struck midnight, just as the owl outside flew in to guard her from the horrors of Night, just as Percy too in his room fell asleep.

Annabeth woke up to bright rays of sunlight filtering through the heavy curtains that hung in her room. She got up, took some clothes, and showered, to her huge relief. She ran her fingers through her hair, untangling it, and scrubbed it until it was clean and bouncy. It felt good to have running water over her skin again, and she sighed in relief. After using up a small bar of her favorite lemon soap and probably most of the available hot water, Annabeth decided she was clean enough. She stepped out of the shower and toweled herself dry. It felt great to be clean again.

Annabeth found herself combing her hair for what seemed like the first time in weeks. Because of the weeks she spent in Tartarus, her hair had gone a sort-of dull blond color, but that had probably been because of the dirt and grime she had just washed out. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Annabeth couldn’t help but stifle a gasp at her reflection.

Her face was pale, hollow, and shadowed, bags under her eyes and her lips pressed tight. She blinked again, and the image of her as Percy had seen her in the Death Mist disappeared, and though she had no idea how that had made its way to her head, she suspected Gaea, for good reason. She did look paler and thinner, however; she’d lost her tan, but at least her gray eyes were the same. Annabeth didn’t always like change. Sure, there were times when she liked change, like when her stepmother stopped being such an obnoxious stepmother and when her dad’s behavior towards her had improved gradually, but there were times when she didn’t. Like when Thalia had been changed into a pine tree. Like when Luke had changed into a murderous and power-hungry guy. Like when Hera had changed all of their lives when she took Percy away from Annabeth and Jason away from Reyna and Hazel, though Annabeth supposed Piper liked that situation depicting change.