A Crown of Golden Leaves: A Percy Jackson Fanfiction

Caput L: Warning Sign

Note Before you Begin: Please tell me what you all think when you finish this - I know it seems like I'm asking for reviews, but I'm really nervous about this chapter, and I'd really appreciate some feedback on it, so that way I can gauge whether or not I captured what I wanted to capture. I was writing this on and off for over 2 weeks, and it was a challenge to find the right words, good Lord. (Fun fact: I've been planning this chapter for over 2 years, so I've been agonizing over it much longer.) *disappears*

     1) Dominus is the equivalent of Mr. and Domina is Mrs. - I hope.

      2) I don't have any problem with drinking alcoholic beverages, but I've read so many fanfics and published books where people "drown their problems in alcohol," which is... so unhealthy, y'all. Seriously, don't drink when you're upset; that just sets you up for a downward spiral. Or just don't drink at all, that works too. So, I decided to have XXX to abstain from drinking.

Warning: Strong language. Some content may not be advisable for young audiences.

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"The truth will set you free." - Anonymous

Caput L: Warning Sign

TIME passed by slowly as they kept walking at a steady pace, drawing closer to Tarentum. Too slowly, if Annabeth really wanted to say the truth, which she was disinclined to do these days-even inside her own head.

Her head throbbed in tempo with her heartbeat, a low aching rhythm that steadily increased in its pounding as the day went on and turned into several more days. Her feet dragged in the earth as she forced herself to keep moving, feeling heavier than lead these days. There was a persistent, clenching feeling inside her chest that made it difficult to breathe, at times.

Simply put, she felt miserable. And there was not a word she could say or a thing she could do about it.

The situation they were in was unidealistic to put it mildly, and catastrophic in more realistic terms. She couldn't afford for her body to let her down now of all times-she needed it to keep her going. It was her body; she was young and healthy and active, wasn't she? It shouldn't be failing her.

So, why did it feel like it was?

But Annabeth couldn't afford to think like that either. The more she dwelt in this kind of thought process, the more likely it was to become true. That's what she had discovered; the more somebody thought about something, the more likely it was to happen. She didn't want to jinx herself, somehow, even if she was only thinking about it.

The immortals were walking on earth, after all, and these were strange times. The gods only know what was possible and impossible now-and even they, too, seemed to be unable to help them. Unlike Percy, she knew they existed, there was no doubt of it in her heart-she was Athena's daughter, as her father had been oh so fond of reminding her. The question was, what in Tartarus were they doing, letting the Protogenoi take over like this?

Did they even hear their prayers now? Or had they walled themselves off in Mount Olympus, hoping that the protogenoi would not dare to enter their realm?

Hah! As if! Nobody was safe from Nyx's sort anymore.

Percy's fingers tapped against her bicep, and she glanced up at him in surprise, but he didn't look back down at her. Instead, he was watching the distance with a steady, hard gaze, as if he was looking for an invisible enemy and waiting for them to show themselves.