Work Text:
So…
Ancient Greece…
It was much easier to blend in than Annabeth was expecting it to be.
Easier, of course, because the Fates had at least been kind enough to dress her in period appropriate clothing when they’d dumped her in the middle of Hades knows where with just the clothes off her back, her knife and a pouch full of drachma. They hadn’t even had the decency to give back her cap which, yeah, wasn’t the end of the world but it would certainly make this whole blending in thing much easier.
Though, with three months under her belt and only two monster attacks, Annabeth was feeling mighty proud of herself.
Proud enough to even be in Athens in the first place.
The Fates hadn’t been much help in that regard. In the three months of Annabeth’s…kidnapping? Imprisonment? Time travel hijinks? Regardless of what she called it, the Fates had not been much help at all. Seemingly, they preferred to pop up at random and give her cryptic pieces of advice that could range from ‘avoid that path walked by many feet’ to ‘there’s a nice baker in the next town over that should give you food for free’.
Thebes was where Annabeth had originally woken up, dazed and confused with the sun blocked out by the three crones leaning over her. Thebes was where she had stayed up until she got restless and bored of all the familiarity of the city.
That and the monster attacks.
Actually, it was probably more the monster attacks.
Two monster attacks and a handful more sniffing around the place.
Thebes wasn’t the safest and, even in hiding, Annabeth couldn’t help but feel drawn to Athens. She’d walked there, feet carrying her on a path that she never learnt but knew intrinsically. She should have left the moment her journey stopped. She should have turned on her heel and marched right back to Thebes. Even Corinth would have been a better choice.
But she’d stayed. She’d mapped the whole city, drawing up the plans in her mind until she could walk the city in her sleep. She stayed well away from the Acropolis and any mention of Athena. She was still a demigod even if she had been misplaced in time. She was still Athena’s daughter in a world where children of Athena were non-existent.
All it took was one wrong person invoking Athena for Annabeth to be found and smote down from above for even hinting that Athena had broken her vow of chastity. Not that the goddess had ever done such a thing but it’s not like anyone would actually realise.
So, the Fates alone knew of Annabeth’s parentage and her presence in ancient Greece.
“You know,” She muttered under her breath as the three women sat next to her in one of the many courtyards of Athens,” This is the complete opposite of staying hidden. I thought you guys said that you’d offended an Olympian.”
Annabeth would be the first to admit that these three months of in and out support from the the Fates had tempered her rage and her respect for them. Honestly, at this point, they acted more like those eccentric grannies that appeared at Thanksgiving with alcohol and a tax evasion story.
It’s Clotho that spoke first. All of them were without the loom that Annabeth supposed they used in this era instead of the knitting needles in her own. “That is true,” She said, her voice low and ancient and speaking in an odd two timbre like she was speaking in all the different planes of existence in the world,” An Olympian’s anger we cannot continue to have.”
Lachesis was after, wedged right next to Annabeth on the bench they were all sat on, looking out across the market place that bustled with activity. “The threads of fate are such interesting things,” She giggled but it all sounded wrong like nails on a chalkboard or an out of tune violin,” Even we, sometimes, found ourselves at their whim.”
Alright. Okay. Annabeth really didn’t have the patience to unravel that right now…or ever, really. Usually she would hunger for knowledge like that but if the countless quests she’d been on had taught her anything, it was that sometimes she was better off just not knowing at all.
She turned her attention back to the marketplace. It was busy. Floods of people filled the streets. The Great Panathenaea was ending today and Annabeth was still feeling pretty proud that she had avoided most of it, sticking to the back of the festivities and being completely ignored by any and all godly presences that may have turned up for it.
Barring, of course, the deities sitting beside her now.
“A gift,” Atropos said,” For this Olympian would do well to quell such anger towards us. This Olympian is a proud deity.”
“All Olympians are proud,” Annabeth muttered. She threw the apple she’d bought in her hand, tracking its path up and down like it was the most interesting thing in the world.
“This Olympian is one of the proudest,” Clotho replied,” Only the greatest of gifts would be acceptable to them.”
Annabeth bit into the apple. “I hope you’re not expecting my help to find such a gift. I’m all quested-out.”
“Bah!” Lachesis cuffed her around the head. “Don’t speak with your mouth full, girl! You weren’t raised in a barn!”
“I was raised by a half-horse.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“We have a gift in mind,” Atropos intoned,” One that an Olympian would be a fool to send away.”
Annabeth narrowed her eyes. “Is this a ploy to make me go find it? Because I told you, I’m not going on another quest.”
“Unneeded,” Atropos agreed,” You are already as we need you.”
“Well, that’s ominous.”
“Perhaps.”
“I hate it when you act like that, you know.”
“We know.”
Annabeth shuddered. “And that triple voice thing you’ve got going on. I hate that too.”
“Off you run, girl,” Clotho said dismissively,” And wear your mask.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes but did as she was told. Mentally, she told herself that she was doing this because she wanted to, that too much time with the three Fates creeped her out enough to want to escape from their overbearing presence. Realistically, she knew that these deities unnerved her just enough that her dismissal from their presence could never come quick enough.
The mask Clotho spoke of was a strange one that the three of them gave to Annabeth when she had first arrived in Athens. At first, she’d thought it to be a substitute for her cap but there was no magic in it and definitely didn’t turn her invisible.
She supposed, it was meant to resemble an owl. It was only a half mask, capable of only truly covering anything above her nose. The feathers were layered beautifully so she could at least admire the craftsmanship even though it was slightly unnerving to slip it on and find that it was practically moulded to the contours of her face perfectly.
Annabeth decided not to dwell on that.
Others were wearing similar masks too. All the children that lined the streets. The adults that accompanied them were wearing them too. She wasn’t quite sure if this was a typical thing for the festival or if it was something that just happened sometimes.
Either way, Annabeth’s mask wasn’t out of place even if it looked like she was only one wearing an owl one. That was strange, considering this whole festival was in Athena’s city, for the goddess herself. An owl should have been the natural choice but, perhaps, Annabeth just hadn’t seen anyone wearing an owl mask.
Yes, that was it. She was sure there were countless people in owl masks. She just hadn’t run into them yet. That had to be it.
Annabeth took another bite of her apple as she weaved through the marketplace, occasionally stopping to poke and prod at the goods waiting there for her. Her bag of drachma had dwindled a little since her arrival but it wasn’t like the Fates would actually let her spend it all. The bothersome vultures that they were.
The last time Annabeth had come close to it, Lachesis had swooped in out of nowhere, topped up her bag and disappeared after a brief scolding.
But, still, there was nothing of interest at the market stalls and Annabeth took a brief moment of respite on a set of stairs leading up to one of the temples. She still had half an apple left so she just sat there with it in her grip, rolling it over in her hand with narrowed eyes.
The Fates had been acting weird ever since Annabeth arrived in Athens. They told her that they didn’t need her to fetch the gift they had planned for that god but Annabeth was sure they were lying.
Why else would they pluck her from her life in the modern world and dump her here?
Granted, they could have really just cut all this messing around down to a quest finished in a few days if they’d just dumped her in Athens in the first place.
Gods, Annabeth knew, had weird ways of working. She was sure those eccentric grannies was equally as strange.
Stubbornly, she bit into her apple.
Athens was more peaceful than she had expected especially in the swing of the festival. Though, granted, Annabeth hadn’t been entirely sure what she was expecting.
More thieves, perhaps?
Arguments?
Random acts of violence?
Whatever it was, Annabeth hadn’t seen anything like that in the slightest. If anything, the whole city was working in perfect sync, perfectly orderly and polite. It was unnerving.
Camp was chaos incarnate. Everyone was doing their own thing. There were fights and scraps every day and someone was always trying to feed another camper to the cleaning harpies. Clarisse’s shouting was the usual wake up call and the Stroll brothers stole something every breakfast. It was perfect.
There was something wrong about the perfect ordinance of ancient Athens. Something wasn’t quite right.
Annabeth took another stubborn bite of her apple, her mind tick-tick-ticking away to work out what exactly left her to unnerved by what was wrong here.
“You don’t seem to be in much of a rush,” Came a voice from behind her and Annabeth’s dignity went straight out the window when she nearly choked on her food,” The procession has already started. Why haven’t you joined the others?”
Annabeth peaked over her shoulder.
The woman that stood there was tall, almost inhumanly tall at least for the time period. She looked like she could be a basketball player in Annabeth’s era. Her hair was perfect, not a curl out of place as she gracefully stepped down each step until she was stood right behind Annabeth, whose head was tilted up and around to keep the woman in view.
She wore a silk peplos not entirely different to Annabeth’s own. The Fates had been providing Annabeth with chiton to wear until she’d crossed the boundary into Athens and they’d presented her with a peplos instead.
The woman’s was made of silk like Annabeth’s, beautiful and flowing fabric bunched up in strategic places to cover what it had to but still give an air of class about it, like this woman was above everyone and wanted people to know it.
She wore a mask like Annabeth’s, layered with owl feather’s and only covering half her face.
“I’m not a fan of crowds.”
“No?” The woman even seemed to make sitting seem elegant, folding her body down to sit on the step next to Annabeth. “This is the greatest festival in all of Greece and you don’t want to participate?”
“I’m…passing through.”
“I can’t convince you to stay?”
“I don’t even know you.”
“Well.” The woman leaned closer. Even sitting down, she still seemed tall. Closer up now, Annabeth could see how large her pupils were like they were blown wide because of something. She shifted away slightly, wary in case this strange woman had ingested a drug and she was one wrong move away from snapping entirely. The woman followed her every movement. “Everyone else is at the procession. Why don’t we get to know each other?”
“You called this the greatest festival in Greece and you don’t even want to watch?”
“I’ve watched plenty. I can miss this one.”
Annabeth doubted that. The peplos this woman wore looked unbelievably expensive. The fabric alone in this era could put a family into debt and the intricate designs and patterns embroidered onto it must have been made by a master weaver. She didn’t even want to think about the cost of the dyes.
Annabeth’s own peplos was of a similar design. The same kind of fabric. Similar patterns. Even a similar colour, though hers was a little more muted. Perhaps that was what was in fashion for upper class Athenian women to wear. Perhaps that’s what the Fates had modelled Annabeth’s peplos off.
That was a comforting thought, she supposed.
“Hmm.”
“You won’t tell me anything? At all? You said you were passing through. Where do you come from?”
“Thebes.”
It wasn’t a lie, technically. Annabeth did come from Thebes. From Thebes to Athens. It wasn’t her fault that this woman’s question wasn’t specific enough.
The woman seemed to notice that too because under her mask, those full pupil eyes narrowed and her lips twisted in annoyance, baring a hint of too-straight and too-white teeth.
A shiver ran down Annabeth’s spine, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
“Thebes,” The woman spoke the city like she was tasting it on her tongue,” That is Dionysus’ city.”
“I suppose it is.”
“Did you ever pray to him while you were there? Dionysus? Or another god?”
“No,” Annabeth said. It was the truth as well. She hadn’t prayed to Dionysus or any other god while in Thebes. Praying to a god meant they could notice you and being notice in ancient Greece wouldn’t end well for Annabeth. Not when her parentage was so obvious. “I…Don’t really pray much.”
“Hmm. You don’t pray. You don’t like crowds. You don’t want to watch the greatest festival in Greece.”
Annabeth inched away. Something was very wrong here. The whole market square lay abandoned as she raised her head again. It was a ghost town. Even if the procession had begun, surely some of the street vendors would have remained. But even they were gone. The stands were still full of stock. It looked like everyone had just abandoned everything at once.
Not even a stray dog wandered past.
The market square was empty apart from Annabeth and this woman wearing a matching mask.
“I was in Thebes recently,” The strange woman said. Her eyes, still with those large, intense pupils, watched every movement. “I was told to look for something there.”
“Did-Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Partially.” The woman titled her head to the side. It wasn’t a natural movement, not really anyway. It look more like an animal keeping prey in view than a person changing their head position. “A hint. A whisper on the wind. A smell to track down. But, alas, my sister has always been a better tracker than me. It’s why it took me so long.”
The alarm bells blared in Annabeth’s head and she was torn between keeping this predator in her sight and allowing her eyes to dart around like an exit plan would appear out of thin air. Her knife was tucked into one of the many folds of her peplos but moving like that would draw attention towards her first strike.
There had to be another way before this monster bit down and tore her apart.
“Why didn’t you ask your sister for help?”
The laugh whatever this monster let out was horrible to hear. It grated on Annabeth’s ears and she almost flinched, almost. She shuffled another inch away.
“I must admit,” The monster laughed that still terrible laugh, all sharp steel against steel, ringing out and echoing through the market square,” I am quite prideful. What is mine is mine and what I was sent to Thebes to retrieve is mine. I don’t share.”
So…That was very clearly a no. Which kind of worked in Annabeth’s favour. There was no second monster that was tracking her down. There was just this one.
Her eyes darted around for a moment, just to check. The market place was still deserted. She could make a run for it and hope to find the procession and lose the monster in the crowd. She could try to fight it here and now. There was enough space and no one around to question what was going. It all depended on how fast she could be, if she could slip into the upper hand.
“I see.”
“Do you believe in fate, Annabeth?”
“Fate or the Fates?”
“Either. Both.”
“Yes. I do.” The Fates were nowhere to be seen right now. Not that they ever were truly around. They were content with letting Annabeth do her own thing most of the time, only popping up every few days or so to say something cryptic or give her a change of clothes or bother her about manners. Frankly, they were doing a terrible job at keeping her safe right now but she hadn’t really expected much help in that regard anyway.
But, that didn’t mean that it still didn’t suck.
“The Fates have such a funny way of operating,” The monster continued and all of the muscles in Annabeth’s body tensed.
She would have to make a break for it. To the procession.
“They almost have their own version of pride. Impudent in the face of others, even when in the presence of their betters.”
Oh. Annabeth really didn’t like where this was going.
“Without their loom, without their threads, they are easily crushed. I could destroy them with my eyes closed.”
Not good. Not good. Not good. Not good.
“They squirmed under me, my blade tasting their skin. Begged for forgiveness. They knew that whatever I could do to them would be remembered for eternity.”
It had to be the procession. No monster that bragged about being able to kill the Fates would be one Annabeth could take in a fight. Losing them in the crowd had to be her only option here.
“And then, they offered me a gift in exchange for forgiveness. They promised me something I would never be able to have. A child. A daughter.”
Annabeth’s blood froze in her veins. She shivered like someone had dunked icy cold water over her.
No. No. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way that-
She’d been called Annabeth earlier. The Fates referred to her as ‘girl’ or sometimes ‘the pest’ if they were feeling particularly annoyed. But that woman had called her by name. Her name.
‘Do you believe in fate, Annabeth?’
“They gave me a name,” The woman continued,” And a strange looking hat to prove their honesty, to prove that it was not all a ploy to avoid my wrath.”
She had to run. She had to run now. Quickly.
“They told me to come to Thebes to collect you but by the time I’d arrived you were already gone. Had my brother not stopped me, his precious city would have been rubble on the ground, buried for future generations to find.”
The mask. The owl mask. It all suddenly made sense. The owl mask wasn’t to conceal her identity. It wasn’t to hide her parentage from the Athenian people who would march her up to the Acropolis at a moment’s notice. It was to make her easier to find, easier to pick out of a crowd of people. Easier to locate when she had already slipped out of divine hands once before.
“But truly fate was on our side, Annabeth,” Athena crooned,” Because here you are. In my city. On the last day of a festival in my honour. Truly, the greatest gift I could have received.”
Annabeth bolted to her feet, legs already pumping to carry her across the market square. A chance. She still had a chance. She could get lost in the crowd. Athena hadn’t seen her face yet. She could rip off the mask and just become another nameless mortal in the crowd. It could work. It had to work.
An iron hand of an arm wrapped around Annabeth’s shoulders before she could barely step away, dragging her up and back into the solid form behind her.
“You think you can deny me this, Annabeth?” Athena’s voice was warning in itself, crackling with war and wisdom and all the tension in an owl’s frame as it swooped from the skies to capture a mouse in its talons. “You think I will allow a prize such as this to escape my hold like this?”
“Get-Get off me!” Annabeth snarled, wiggling and writhing like a scruffed cat," Let me go!”
“You escaped me in Thebes through no fault of your own. You didn’t know that I knew of you. But you know now, daughter. I will not allow you to flee.”
“You can’t just take me!”
“You will find, Annabeth, that there is very little that I cannot do.”
The arms around her tightened and the world spun, moving all too fast and all too slow at the same time. Everything blurred and the air from Annabeth’s lungs froze, knocked clean out of her until the world came into focus and her lungs finally inflated again, gulping down precious air.
She had started crying at some point. Her cheeks were wet. Fat tears rolled down them.
When had Annabeth become someone to cry in the face of fear?
She was limp in Athena’s arms, dangling in her grip like a kitten held by the scruff of their neck. Athena had grown during Annabeth’s disorientation. The goddess was her full height now and the ground look so much further away than it had before.
Olympus.
It had to be. There could be no other explanation.
Annabeth could feel it in her bones even if she could not see out of this…
Where was she exactly? A…temple? A weaving room? An armoury?
A word didn’t spring to mind all that quickly as Athena headed to a corner of the living space. It was something like a bed, Annabeth supposed, but it was also kind of like a nest too, though a little oversized considering it was meant to house a god.
And Annabeth too, apparently, considering Athena set her inside of it carefully and stepped away with narrowed eyes. She crouched next, her hands gently reaching out to take off the mask Annabeth had forgotten she was still wearing.
Athena smiled. It was something soft and indulgent as one of those hands gently cupped Annabeth’s face, thumb lightly swiping across one of her cheek bones.
“My daughter.” The smile was still on Athena’s face, a soft, muted thing like she was watching a baby learn to walk or a toddler do something stupid but amusing. It was in stark contract to the way her hand tightened painfully against Annabeth’s face. “Don’t you ever try to deprive me of your presence again.”
“You just kidnapped me!”
“It’s not kidnapping if it’s returning you to the place where you should have been all along.”
“It’s kidnapping when I didn’t want to go with you at all.”
Athena turned her back as she sat at her loom, already reaching for new thread. Annabeth attempted to leave the nest of blankets and pillows but an owl she hadn’t spotted before swooped down from the ceiling and fussed in her face until she was solidly in the centre of where she had been placed.
“Do get some rest, Annabeth,” Athena called over her shoulder, all saccharine sweetness that made Annabeth sick to her stomach,” We will be busy tomorrow. Finding you a domain will not be easy work.”