This is my first ever PJatO story, posted on anyway. I have a lot more to type up from my notebook. I hope everyone likes it, and please drop a review. I don't think this is my best work, honestly, as it came out very different from the first notebook draft. Also, as A warning, these were written before Last Olympain, and I myself have not have time to bother my parents for it. Which means I haven't read it. And Wal-Mart doesn't get new books, apparently.
NO OLYMPIAN SPOILERS! PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL IN REVIEWS.
Shifting in the Sands
a story by grayx3eyedsoul
Annabeth sat in the sand, her fingers drawing meaningless patterns in the soft white sand -- her back toward the swordsman arena. Her feet, jeans rolled up, hung over the dock, her toes playing with the cold blue water. Suddenly, behind her, the seashells that sat clumped near the dunes seemed to move, shifting toward her. As she watched, the shells shifted, the colors vididly moving, growing in size, forming the shape of a man. With instict, her hand moved to her pocketed knife in her jeans.
"Peace, child. I mean you no harm."
The man seemed to be a fisherman, or who lived on the beach. She recognized him instantly, and scrambled up to stand. "Hello, sir."
He waved her down, and she sat timidly next to him - his son's eyes bore into hers. Finally, after miles of silence, he took a deep breath;
"Annabeth, I apologize." She made to interrupt, but he continued before she had a chance. "I'm still trying to understand why, but I know what mine and your mothers feud has done to yours and Percy's relationship from the start. Even now, at 18 years of age, it's bothers you still because you are afraid you might displease your parents in some way."
Annabeth looked back down, her mind reeling with the shock.
"Um. S-sir. Thanks. I guess. I...I - Thanks."
His smile was Percy's lazy grin, and with one wink, he whispered back into the sands that he had formed.
She'd never admit it, but she mumbled a quick prayer of thanks to Aphrodite after that.
The metals and sounds of war clattered around the room, and soon, straw lay all over the floor.
Percy wiped the sweat of his forehead and looked at the weapon in his hands - A mortal sword. The dummies lay slashed, and open. He sighed -- he had to clean all this up now.
He pulled his shirt away, the heat and sweat uncomfortable. As he walked to the tables, he noticed someone was already there.
The gray eyes followed him, and when he reached the table the tension hung thick in the air.
"Percy Jackson. Come, sit." Athena's voice was firm, as if she was speaking to child in the punishment corner.
Percy looked back to the dock where Annabeth was sitting - someone was with her - and looked back to Athena. She nodded. He fell into the chair clumsily.
"I understand you've still been seeing my daughter -- after I forbid you to."
" -- Ma'ma, I promis- "
" Silence, Percy. As I was saying, you where seeing my daughter, after I forbid you."
The silence hung thick. "I forgive you," she continued.
"I know, and I'm really sorry, I pro - wait, you what?"
Athena smiled, yet her eyes were still firm. "I forgive you, and I apologize for standing in your way. Just be careful with her." She stood, ready to leave.
Percy bolted up from his chair, "Wait! That means we have your blessing?!"
Athena turned, smiled at him, and nodded.
The sword clanged to the ground. "....Annabeth! ANNABETH!" Percy dashed toward the docks.