Author's notes: I'm blaming Icy Roses for this one. We started chatting about how it would be impossible for Percy and Annabeth to get married normally - you know, without immortal relatives blowing each other up and stuff - and this fic was the eventual result. I wrote this instead of my NaNoWriMo project, which is also a Percy Jackson fan fic, and it was a fun diversion since the NaNo project is starting to get a bit dark. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.
Three Ways Percy and Annabeth Could've Gotten Married
(and the one way they did)
Rachel grabs him on his way to the bathroom, twenty minutes before Annabeth is set to walk down the aisle.
"You need to talk to her," Rachel says in her no-nonsense tone. She looks rather pretty in the lavender bridesmaid gown, in spite of the ruffles. "She's going crazy."
"Oh gods," Percy replies, reaching up to run his hand through his hair. Rachel swats his hand away before it can quite get there, and he curses. His hair has been gelled straight for once and he's not supposed to touch it. "She still wants to marry me, right? Because, you know, it'd be awkward having to telling all those people to go home and my dad paid for the seafood platter at the dinner which is sort of a big deal since they're sort of his subjects – "
"Of course she still wants to marry you, so stop blabbering," Rachel replies, grabbing him by the hand dragging him down the hallway. "She's just under the impression, that you won't want to marry, and I quote, a 'fat, blubbery, lacey cow' like her."
"Oh gods," Percy says again. "It's about the dress, isn't it?"
As of two weeks before the wedding, Annabeth still had not picked out a wedding dress. When Percy had innocently asked her about it, she had promptly bit his head off, and told him she had more important things to be worrying about – like her semester finals and gestating his demon spawn, as she liked to call the baby she'd been carrying around for the last seven months – than what stupid ceremonial piece of clothing she'd be wearing the day of.
"Yes, of course it's about the dress. She picked it out three days ago and she didn't even let me come with her, can you believe it! It isn't as hideous as it could've been, but she looks like an extra from a Renaissance festival right now," Rachel says and then adds, "A pregnant extra from a Renaissance festival, which of course she is, but never mind that. She about kicked Nico in the balls when he said – "
Percy gapes at Rachel, aghast.
"You let Nico talk to Annabeth when she was upset? Nico doesn't have a sensitive bone in his body! He probably told her to suck it up and be glad that she isn't dead like the guy on the street corner will be in ten minutes or some creepy shit like that – "
"He's the best man, I thought he could handle it while I went to find you," she says as they round a corner and spy Nico sitting outside a door a little farther down the hall, glaring broodingly at the brick wall. "Apparently not."
"Nico, what the hell, you're going to wrinkle your tux," Percy snaps, glaring at him because he has probably just made his life ten times worse with whatever sarcastic comment he decided to throw at Annabeth.
"Like it matters. No one is going to be looking at my tux when they see that," Nico replies, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the door where Annabeth is holed away. Rachel reaches out and swats him in the head with her bouquet. "Ow! Gods, what is with you girls today?"
"Go do something useful, and make sure Athena and Poseidon aren't going to blow each other up while Percy gets this settled," Rachel replies, reaching down to grab his arm and haul him to his feet. For an Oracle, Rachel is surprisingly strong.
"How am I supposed to do that? They'll probably blow me up instead!"
Percy stops listening to them as he opens the door and slips into the room. It's a small classroom, probably used for Sunday school when it isn't being turned into a dressing room for weddings. Annabeth is sitting in a too small chair in front of an oval mirror.
The sight of her momentarily takes his breath away. Her blond hair is long and following in ringlets down her back, pulled back in the front by her veil, and she looks soft and delicate in the white gown, which really isn't all that bad…all right, the full-length, 1970s throwback gauze sleeves are a little iffy, but Percy has seen Annabeth look a thousand times worse than this.
She spots his reflection in the mirror, and Percy notices that her grey eyes are rimmed with red.
"If you tell me I told you so, I'm going to kill you, invincibility or no," she sniffs, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue as he approaches. In spite of the threat, she sounds absolutely miserable.
"Then I won't say it," he says, crouching down beside her. He reaches out for her hand, which is resting on her rounded stomach. "What's up?"
She gestures at her reflection helplessly. "I can't go out there looking like this."
Annabeth gives him one of looks, like she can't believe he's asking her a question like that.
"Because I'm seven months pregnant and crazy emotional, and my feet are swollen and I've gained 25 pounds. I have bags the size of trucks under my eyes, and I'm wearing a $15 dress I found out a thrift store that itches and has a stain on the bottom hem," she replies, her bottom lip trembling. "I don't look like a bride should."
"No, you don't," Percy agrees. "But you look like you. And I think you're beautiful."
She makes a skeptical noise under her breath, so he continues, "Honestly, Annabeth, I'd marry you if you were covered in monster gore and in full battle armor. I'll always think you're beautiful, even when you're old, wrinkled and grey."
He reaches out and tugs at the one gray curl in her hair, the one that matches his. Finally, he sees a weak smile crack on her face.
"But everyone else – "
"Screw everyone else. When you're walking down the aisle in ten minutes, it's just going to be me and you, like it's always been. Nothing's going to change that. Not even an itchy thrift store dress or 25 extra pounds."
Annabeth's lower lip trembles again, and her eyes water up. Percy brushes the single tear that falls away, careful not to smudge her make-up.
"I'm so happy I'm going to be marrying you," she says at last, squeezing his hand.
He squeezes back.
Percy and Annabeth have the distinction of having the most exciting wedding ever when a hydra attacks while the minister is in the middle of the vows.
One minute everything on the beach is normal – minus the entire court of Poseidon hanging out in the surf, of course – and in the next, chairs, guests and poison spit are flying everywhere as the hydra appears from out of nowhere next to the ice sculpture of Hera.
"Whoops," Hades, Lord of the Dead and Ultimate Asshole Extraordinaire, remarks to Poseidon as some poor soul goes flying over their heads into a sandbank. "Looks like the wedding present got delivered a little early. My bad."
Poseidon does not look amused.
Nico, at least, has the decency to look ashamed of his father's antics as he and the rest of the bridal party grab their weapons stashed away in their formal outfits and head off to engage the hydra.
Annabeth just sighs and turns to the minister. She has no idea what the Mist is making him see, but it can't be much better than a seven-headed hydra because his mouth is open and he's pointing in horror with a shaking finger.
"D – D – Do you – "
"Yes, we see it," Annabeth says as she bends down to hike her dress up. She gives Percy a tantalizing view of her stocking covered leg before she pulls her old dagger out of her garter. "Do you think we can just skip to the 'I do' part? We need to kill this thing."
"I like your style, Wise Girl," Percy says with an eager grin, pulling Riptide from his chest pocket. "Does that sound okay?"
"Um…yes?" the minister squeaks, and all three of them duck as the buffet table sails over them and crashes into the altar. The demigods stand, and the minister remains cowering on the ground as he speaks.
"Do you – ?"
"I do," Percy and Annabeth say at once, and the minister blinks.
"Uh…Well. I guess, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may – "
Annabeth grabs Percy by the tie and mashes her lips against his. The cheers and clapping from the remainder of the guests are quickly drowned out by an indignant howl from the hydra and screams from the caterer as he's devoured.
"Oh, I just love weddings!" Aphrodite exclaims, bursting into joyous sobs and burying her face in her program.
Somehow, their wedding turns out absolutely perfect.
There are no hitches whatsoever, even at the start.
Everyone in the wedding party shows up to the church on time and alert, and are in their places at just the right moment. No guests are late, and the immortals are surprisingly calm, despite the fact that they had to be placed in the back of the church for everyone else's safety.
Percy's tux fits just like it's supposed to and his hair manages to lie flat on its own. He doesn't throw up like he thought he would once the organ music began, flawless with its beat and tempo by the way, and Annabeth appears at the threshold of the church.
She is absolutely stunning in a designer dress that hugs all of her curves and emphasizes just the right parts, making her look like a princess. No one can take their eyes off of her, least of all Percy, who's trying not to gape at her like a fish out of water.
Annabeth doesn't stumble or miss a step, and they share a grin when link arms and face the minister.
The ceremony is short and sweet, and the neither of them fumble their lines. Nico, the honorary ring bearer, didn't lose their rings, and their kiss as the end is right out of all the storybooks.
Even fewer things go wrong at the reception. No monsters crash the party, and the gods control themselves around mortals…mostly. Percy catches Zeus chatting up a pretty girl in full view of Hera, but at least Athena and Poseidon are getting along surprisingly well, which should be more disturbing than it is.
The bouquet and garters are caught, the cake is shoved in their faces, terrible dances to songs from bad DJs are completed, and soon enough, they're sliding into the limo at the end of the night, red faced and exhausted.
For one day, everything went perfect for them. A regular fairy tale, Annabeth remarks dryly as she pulls herself into her lap and begins to kiss him.
They're not foolish enough to believe the rest of their life will be like this, but it's a good start at the very least.
It's a Tuesday, around midmorning, and everything is normal. They both have the day off work, which is a miracle in of itself, and they're enjoying the chance to relax around the apartment.
Percy comes out of the kitchen, wearing nothing but his sweatpants and munching on an apple, when he looks at her sitting on the couch, and asks, "You wanna get married today?"
This is the last thing she expects to hear from him, and it startles her momentarily.
Annabeth sets the newspaper down and just stares at him.
"Did I just hear what I thought I did?" she asks, pushing her reading glasses into her hair. "Because you did just ask me if I wanted to get married today, right?"
Casually, as if their whole future together was not hanging in the balance by his answer, Percy nods and takes another bite of his apple.
"Yeah. So you wanna do it?"
Annabeth stares at him uncomprehendingly. They haven't mentioned anything about the subject of marriage in the last couple of months – they haven't even talked engagement yet and she knows he most certainly does not have a ring. Percy is sort of lacking a fair amount of common sense, but this is just ridiculous.
"Do you even know what you're asking, Seaweed Brain? Because normal people in a relationship just don't up and decide to get married one morning," Annabeth replies, feeling the beginning of a panic creeping up on her. "They plan these things out because there has to be announcement and cake needs to be ordered, and they need to invite people, and they have to get dresses and ties and tuxes and – "
"I'm not asking for a wedding; I just want to get married," Percy interrupts, still too infuriatingly calm for her liking. "Think about it for a second, Annabeth. Is there any real reason why we can't married today?"
Momentarily jogged out of her panic, Annabeth leans back into the sofa and really does think about it. She and Percy are both out of college and have stable jobs; they've been living together for almost three years, and they've been a couple even longer than that. Even though they haven't really talked about marriage, she knows they just assumed that one day they would wind up that way …
Annabeth glances out the window, where the sun is shining and the sky is a beautiful bright blue. It's a gorgeous spring day outside, exactly the sort of day she would have liked to have on her wedding day.
Sighing reluctantly, she throws her hands up in the air and says, "Fine. Let's get married today, Percy."
In their wedding photo, taken by an on-duty NYPD officer, the two of them are standing on the steps of the New York City courthouse.
Percy's wearing sneakers, blue jeans, and a black sports jacket; Annabeth is wearing a pretty blue and white sundress, and a pair of dirty flip flops. He doesn't have a tie, and the first button on his collared shirt is undone; her only piece of jewelry is her owl earrings and she has a tiny bouquet of daisies. His hair is mess, as usual, and hers is down around her shoulders.
Their arms are looped together and they look like the happiest, haphazard couple on Earth.
Which, of course, they are.