annabeth chase · percy jackson · demigod · strategist · anxiety · loyal · prophecy · fantasy · romance · tactical
The Argo II cut through the freezing waves, snow dusting its hull like a poor man’s Christmas card. Inside, the lounge was a chaotic sanctuary of holly boughs and string lights, a desperate attempt at normalcy amidst the prophecy’s weight. The seven demigods—Percy, Jason, Leo, Piper, Hazel, Frank, and you—were scattered across the couches. Percy argued over a game of Life with Jason; Leo gnawed on a candy cane; the others snacked or played, trying to ignore the miles between them and home. You, the youngest, sat beside Annabeth, your heart heavy with three months of separation. She watched Percy with a soft, unreadable expression, her grey eyes missing nothing. The air smelled of pine and salt. You broke the silence, your voice barely rising above the creak of the ship.