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magicae-est-realis · 3 months

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Okay, so fairies.

We never meet a male fairy in Fablehaven right? Raxtus and possibly the Astrids aside. The Fairy king, as a unicorn, does not count.

So how do they reproduce?

This was meant to be a teeny-tiny single paragraph. I failed.

Note for googled flower meanings-

Meadowsweet (useless)

Geranium (stupid/idiot)

Yellow carnation (I am disappointed in you)

Bilberry (traitor)

Kendra, after Zzyzx, is told in no uncertain terms by literally everyone that despite the fact that she herself is the Fairy Queen's Handmaiden, she needs a handmaiden of her own. It's one of the laws of the Fairy Kingdom, and no, there is no way around this.

Of course, they neglect to tell her that it only became a law after she picked up a random incredibly powerful magical artifact she borrowed from her brother, a child, and acted on her poorly planned (though admittedly effective) impulse to charge the biggest, baddest, most evil being on a battlefield she shouldn't even be on in an outnumbered hopeless war she shouldn't be in, and commit regicide.

This ruffled a few feathers.

Among everyone.

Adults were caught between offence that a tiny almost-human child did what they couldn't in less than five minutes and horror that Kendra was there at all.

Children were simply jealous that they didn't think of it first.

Kendra was, naturally, rather annoyed about the ridiculous law, because "why on earth does a handmaiden need her own handmaiden? I killed Gogrog! I can take care of myself!"

This did not help her case, as the entire reason behind the law was to prevent such a scenario from repeating itself, or if this wasn't possible, to provide support. And reinforcements. Lots and lots of reinforcements.

It was the product of the entire population of the Light Kingdom agreeing simultaneously (a rare, history-making event as the Centaurs and Satyrs in particular were known for always choosing opposing arguments on principal) and it came from a mix of spite for the aforementioned offense-at-Kendra-being-more-capable-than-them and of them being quite fond of her by this stage and not wanting her to inadvertently kill herself though sheer stupidity.

Though most did admit that naming her 'secret' backup a 'handmaiden' was poorly thought out, the general idea remained the same, and the general Plan been in discussion for some time before Bracken panicked when Kendra tried to go talk to the Brownies by herself, drew upon said discussions, and told her if she hadn't yet chosen her handmaiden, she needed to take him as backup at least.

Which was how Kendra learnt about the law for the first time (though Bracken had the foresight to not mention the recency of the law's creation and led her to believe it had been around for a very long time), pitched a fit about the very idea of being constantly followed, and tried to ask the nearby fairies to tell Bracken she didn't need a handmaiden of her own.

The fairies, of course, wholeheartedly agreed with Bracken and the Plan and were wary of disagreeing with their royalty anyway, so the matter was taken to the Naiads, then the Satyrs, then the Dryads, the Centaurs, the Nipsies, every human in the preserve including Kendra's family (Kendra had hoped that Vanessa at least would defend her to spite Bracken, and was sorely disappointed), the Brownies (with Bracken after she begrudgingly allowed him to come with) and each time the matter was discussed, Kendra was given the same unwavering agreement that yes, she needed her own handmaiden.

In a final act of desperation, Kendra dragged a bemused but increasingly smug Bracken off by his arm, shoved him into the little paddleboat she'd used the first time she crossed the lake, and paddled her way over to Fablehaven's Shrine.

In hindsight, the fact that the Naiads actively helped her get to the island should have been a warning written in neon lighting on a massive billboard telling her "KENDRA NO" in all-caps with confetti, glitter bombs and a blaring siren to accompany it.

As it was, Kendra noticed and dismissed the aid because she was desperate, and didn't care enough about small details like this when she felt desperate, though she probably should have learnt better by now, considering that this tendency had led to her dismissing the high probability of drowning and death-by-dandelion-fluffage during the Muriel Incident (separate to The Cow Incidents as they were more traumatising), dismissing Warren's injuries and Seth's unconscious state in the Hell Cat Temple and Revenant Incident, dismissing the fact that Chalize agreed to let them through too easily in the Lost Mesa Incident, dismissing any possibility of paradoxes or worse, Seth playing with and managing to work the Chronometer in the Shadow Plague Incident, dismissing the thought that she was legally dead or that she should learn how to fold a paper plane before using them as an escape attempt during and after the Kidnapping Incident, that...

You get the point.

(You may also notice that Fablehaven residents had a propensity for naming any serious events 'Incidents', as Warren wholeheartedly believed that it was a less traumatising phrase than 'Disaster', 'Catastrophe', or 'Serious Event'. The only allowance made for varying severity was whether or no the 'the' in front was capitalised, such as how the Lost Mesa Incident and the Muriel Incident were not capitalised, but The Cow Incidents and The Zzyzx Incident were.)

Anyway, Kendra should have known better. But she persisted, and so she was left dragging a slightly damp Bracken out of the paddleboat (one of the Naiads tried unsuccessfully to flirt with him).

It was only as they were standing in front of the Shrine and a cool breeze and distinctly amused Presence declared the Fairy Queen's attention that Kendra realised it had, perhaps, been a poor decision, as her sort-of boss could definitely command Kendra to just choose a handmaiden already and she would have to.

And that is exactly what happened.

Kendra sulked for the next day and ate whole roll of cookie dough afterwards.

But after her obligatory day of sulking, Kendra simply sighed, begrudgingly accepted her fate, and asked Bracken what the process was.

Bracken was absolutely thrilled to detail what needed to be done, though there wasn't all that much to it on Kendra's end. All she needed to do was pick a fairy ("yes, Kendra. It needs to be a fairy to serve the Fairy Queen's handmaiden!"), ask the fairy to see if she agreed ("easiest part- everyone wants the position for the bragging rights alone") and after the selection was made, tell either Bracken or his mother, and they'd do the rest.

It took Kendra less than a minute to find Shiara and ask her, and found Bracken had been correct in saying she'd agree.

And that was that.

So it was to this arrangement that Kendra found herself in towards the end of the summer following The Zzyzx Incident, as she woke up from a pleasant nap in the striped hammock she'd strung between two trees on the boundary of the garden a few weeks before with a tiny face surrounded by a shock of short blue hair hovering just above her nose.

This didn't surprise her anymore, as she'd long since grown used to (but not fond of) Shiara's wake-Kendra-up technique.

Kendra, never fond of being woken up, simply groaned and dramatically flung an arm over her face, forcing Shiara to flit out of the way. The fairies' dramatic flair had begun to infect her, and she was well on her way to becoming a theatre kid if she ever got the legally dead mess fixed.

Shiara simply poked Kendra's nose where it peeked out from under her arm.

"Hey, no sleeping on me now! I just heard from Yolie, who heard from Poza, who heard from Timela, who heard from-"

"Shiara, I say this with love, but please get to the point." Shiara simply huffed.

"Fine! Larina and Ilyana's daughter just hatched! We have to see her! The last baby hatched years ago! This is the first child anyone has even considered having since you and Seth first arrived, since you turned everything upside-down and you know we don't really like change. And she'll be the first baby hatched since we moved into our new kingdom, too!"

Kendra immediately sat bolt upright, forgetting she was in a hammock, and promptly fell face-first onto the grass. Uncaring, she scrambled to her feet.

"Where?! Where are they? How small is she? Ooooo she must be tiny! And how do you know she's a girl if you haven't seen her yet? Come on, come on, come on, come on, Shiara!"

The fairy simply laughed in delight, and darted off in the direction of the secret garden, which Kendra had been amazed to discover after becoming Fairy-kind, as it definitely hadn't existed there before.

Apparently, the garden existed in a pocket dimension connected to a small square piece of the earth similar to the rucksack, was only accessible by or even visible to a fairy, and was under many, many extremely heavy enchantments and protections laid by the Fairy Queen herself, making it one of the safest locations on the preserve. Kendra had always wondered why, and realising now that it was probably to protect baby fairies made perfect sense.

Kendra and Shiara made it to the garden in record time, to see a crowd of brightly coloured fairies creating a near solid rainbow wall around the entrance.

Briefly, Kendra wondered if she could get them to line up in rainbow order to create a mini Fablehaven pride parade.

Shiara looked at the wall blocking her way to the baby, set her face and puffed up, her hair standing on end like she'd been shocked, in her 'getting stuff done' pose.

"All right everyone, make a path! Kendra's coming through and I won't hesitate to hex anyone who doesn't move fast enough!"

It was almost comical how quickly the alarmed fairies scarpered. Admittedly, Shiara had been granted a supposed 'level-up' as Seth called it after becoming her handmaiden, but Kendra hadn't thought it was enough to intimidate an entire dazzle of excited fairies.

Apparently she'd thought wrong.

Kendra hurried through the gap created for her, Shiara leading the way, until she arrived at a small flowering shrub with a tiny but elaborate nest woven into it in a fork of three near horizontal branches near the middle.

The nest was reminiscent of a bird's nest, but no bird had ever woven a house with a braided domed roof, porch (complete with railing around two of the three sides and a handful of woven chairs), tiny perfectly round windows, a tiny perfectly round door, and a three separate rooms.

It brought to mind a Hobbit hole, though Kendra would never dream of voicing the thought after the rant about Tolkien she'd received the time she'd compared a long-haired fairy's fussiness about hair braiding to a Dwarf.

Shiara landed on the porch delicately, waited by the door, and softly called to Larina, an especially large orange and gold hummingbird fairy, to ask if she could enter.

At the soft assent she received, Shiara hopped gently into the house, arranging her wings so they didn't touch the walls, and disappeared.

A second later she popped out again, looking flustered and embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Kendra. I forgot you can't come in. Oh, bother." Poor Shiara was wringing her hands and looking incredibly distressed, and Kendra was about to tell her not to worry, that she could go in and look without her, when Ilyana's voice piped up, and the second hummingbird fairy shining an iridescent turquoise, blue and green stepped out.

"Kendra? You're here? Oh! Wait right here, we'll bring her right outside to you so you can meet her! It must be a blessing to have the Fairy Queen's own chosen handmaiden visit!" Kendra didn't even have time to take a breath before the delighted fairy had disappeared back into her little house, presumably to fetch her daughter.

Shiara positively beamed at the solution, and was almost vibrating with excitement. In no time at all, both Ilyana and Larina reappeared carrying a tiny bundle, which they gently deposited in a small bowl Kendra hadn't noticed before on the porch, lined in soft down from the adults' wings. It must be the fairy equivalent of a crib, Kendra mused, craning her head excitedly to spot the baby.

Shiara was already hovering over the mini nest, cooing in delight with her wings and hair fluttering rapidly the way they did when she became excited. It had been a strange sight the first time she'd seen it, but Kendra had quickly learnt that most butterfly and moth fairies' short hair acted the way antennae did on the actual insects they took after, while fairies whose animal counterparts didn't have antenna simply had long hair.

She was chattering excitedly with Larina while Ilyana, as the most calm fairy of the group, simply stood and listened.

"... and of course, when she heard about the egg, Her Majesty let Ilyana take time off the construction and purification works to..."

"... oh yes, the new realm! How is it going? I haven't had time to visit for ages it must be coming along beautifully by now, especially with a commander as brilliant as your Ilyana leading the river works..."

Despite both fairies seeming to talk over and interrupt one another constantly, neither lost track of the convoluted conversation that seemed to be equal parts flattery and inquiries to the other's health.

It had taken some time for Kendra to get the hang of the confusing way the fairies talked to each other well enough to follow a conversation, and was constantly in awe of their perfect recall. She could question Shiara about exactly what Larina had talked about in a week, and she'd be able to recite their conversation just as perfectly (and confusingly) as when it had been said.

It took a few minutes of craning and careful eavesdropping to find a position where Kendra could see between the three adult fairies on the porch into the nest, and when she did, she was... surprised, to say the least.

The baby was absolutely miniscule, about the length of Ilyana's forearm, a small pink blob of skin that was completely blind and hairless. Kendra thought she was wingless, too, until the baby shifted and two tiny nubs that looked like naked chicken wings showed themselves on her back.

She didn't quite know how to react.

"She looks a bit like a baby bird," Kendra mused.

Three fairies stared at her, matching looks of incredulity on each face.

"That's because she is a baby bird, Kendra." Shiara deadpanned.

Kendra was beyond confused by this stage.

"I thought she was a baby fairy?"

Ilyana and Larina shared a mildly concerned look.

"Um... Kendra, you do know how fairies are born, right?" Of the two, Ilyana apparently possessed the most tact, likely due to her high position in the Fairy Queen's army.

Kendra's confused face apparently gave away the fact that no, ladies, I don't know how fairies are born because I am a human and nobody has explained this to me. Larina began to politely recite each and every one of Silvian's swear word equivalents, which really just meant she was telling Kendra how disappointed in her she was in flowers.

"...meadowsweet, geranium. Argh, yellow carnations, Kendra! I was hoping I wouldn't have to have this conversation for years."

"Um, sorry?"

Larina sighed. "No, you're not. But that's okay, we probably need the practice anyway, we don't want to traumatise our daughter by accident."

Kendra was becoming slightly concerned by this stage, because this really didn't sound like an enjoyable conversation. Shiara edging away slowly only fuelled this conviction.

"Ah, I think I have something... important to do. Like... watching the grass grow?"

"Not so fast, bilberry. It's because you neglected to explain this to her beforehand that we're in this position in the first place." Larina puffed her large wings out intimidatingly (for a fairy) to highlight her point. Ilyana was simply standing with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose to alleviate stress, as she had been since the start of the conversation.

Shiara winced and sat down on a tiny woven chair with decidedly less grace than usual, and all three fairies turned back to look at Kendra with varying levels of trepidation. Kendra hoped fervently that Warren and Seth never ever heard of this incident, which was quickly working its way to a capital 'I'.

Ilyana sighed, removed her hand from her nose, and stepped forward.

"I... really don't know how to start this. Er, so. Um. Well, you know how we're a species of females, right? There are no male fairies," at this she paused a nodded to Shiara "your son exempt, of course-"

"You have a son, Shiara?!"

"You know I do! You've met him! Raxtus took us to see Inside Out at that drive-in cinema!" Kendra was borderline panicking by this stage.

"But he's Celebrant's son! I thought you just raised him!"

"Exactly!" Shiara huffed.

"How does that work, then?!"

"If you would let me explain," Ilyana interrupted with a sharp voice that silenced the conversation, "because we're all female, we can't exactly have kids ourselves in the way you... mammals... do." She looked mildly nauseous. Kendra felt the same. It had definitely become an Incident.

"We can't have the kids ourselves, so we... adopt, for lack of a better term. A single fairy, or multiple in a relationship- like Larina and I- who want a child go find a compatible egg from a flying creature of some sort. A small one, like a bird, or a butterfly." At this, Larina and Ilyana both looked at a blushing Shiara. "Not a Dragon."

"Though I have to admit, watching her incubate him was hilarious. She had to perch on the top, like an ant on Hugo's head." Larina interjected with a snicker. Shiara did not look pleased with the analogy.

"Anyway," Ilyana continued "once we find our egg, we use our magic to incubate it. The magic turns the baby from a caterpillar or a chick or a larva to a fairy, and they mature similarly, too. A hummingbird egg, like ours, will hatch into a hummingbird fairy, and a butterfly egg with hatch into a butterfly fairy-"

"-caterpillar, really-" Shiara interjected.

"Fine, a caterpillar fairy that will go through metamorphosis and become a butterfly fairy-"

"-and a Dragon egg apparently hatches a... you know, I'm not entirely sure I know what to classify Raxtus as, Shiara."

"Go with Dragon, it's what I do."

"No wonder Raxtus is so confused. Um, does he know the reason he turns into a fairy instead of a human is because you're his mother?" Kendra inquired.

Shiara paused. "Er-"

"Let's take that as a no, with her track record." Ilyana sighed. "Someone's going to have to break the news to him and oh bother, he'll sulk and go through one of those dramatic 'oh woe is me, my life is hopeless and confusing and the world isn't what I though it was' phases again. I hoped we were past them after he reached adulthood."

"Oh wow, Shiara. You really messed up this time. He's been thinking he's a failure of a Dragon for so long, and all this time, he's just been a... hybrid, I suppose, not really a Dragon at all, and didn't even know it." Larina looked positively gleeful. It was, perhaps, not the best or most reassuring reaction, but she was still a fairy after all and no matter how nice, they were still petty troublemakers at heart.

Shiara was growing steadily paler. She looked like she was contemplating agreeing the next time Seth asked if she could use her magic to turn him into "something cooler than a walrus, please" and embracing Grandma's fury when she inevitably found out. Kendra was becoming rather concerned for her friend, and tried to change the discussion to save her.

"So why is Raxtus a boy then?"

"Oh, yes, he's a special case. Shiara only began to incubate him near the end of this egg phase, so he was already almost fully developed by then and wasn't able to become female. He got his fairy traits in his avatar's appearance and his breath magic instead. But normally, we adopt eggs almost as soon as they're laid, with agreement from their parents of course, so they are fully female fairies from the start."

Kendra was beginning to feel very sorry for Raxtus by this stage. Maybe she'd get him a movie voucher. Or five. It wouldn't be easy to learn you were actually a different species, and your adopted mother is actually also your second biological mother.

Since her original conversation diversion hadn't really worked, she tried again.

"Have you named your daughter yet? And what kind of fairy will she be?"

Ilyana and Larina immediately perked up, and Shiara shot a grateful look to Kendra. Maybe she would be forgiven for not knowing where baby fairies came from.

"Well, we were thinking of waiting to announce it once when everyone is present, but since it's you who's asking..." Larina's wings raffled with excitement, dropping a small piece of down which she immediately picked up and placed in the baby's nest.

"Her name is Emralis, Kendra. And she'll be a hummin- ow! Larina!- A hummingbird fairy, like us." Ilyana glared at her partner, where she was tucking the down she'd plucked from Ilyana's wings alongside what was already in the nest.

"Sorry, I just saw the perfect feather showing, and it was probably going to fall out anyway next time you groomed." Larina really didn't sound too sorry, Kendra mused.

By this time, Kendra and Shiara had already been visiting with the fairies for about half an hour, and Kendra was beginning to worry she and Shiara would be mobbed by the horde of angry fairies waiting outside for their turn to meet Emralis.

She said as much to Shiara, who simply laughed and told Kendra she could handle them, though she did begin to wrap up the slightly disturbing conversation about how to wean babies off Viola's milk to the garden aphids of all things before starting on solid foods she had struck with a concerned Ilyana and Larina.

It was another fifteen minutes before they said their goodbyes, promising the new family they'd visit again tomorrow.

Several hours later, Kendra was sitting at the massive dinner table the Brownies had built to accommodate everyone on the preserve with Shiara seated at the mini table and chair that had been built on top of the main table for her to Kendra's left. Warren, Bracken, Seth, Dale, Grandpa, Marla, the Larsons and Vanessa had already seated themselves, while Grandma, Scott and Tanu bustled around the kitchen, after chasing everyone else out with the terrifying egg beaters the Brownies had added knives to for exactly that purpose.

In no time at all, the table was groaning with food, and everyone was digging in like they'd never eaten before.

"So," Grandma Sorenson began "did anybody learn anything interesting today?" Grandma had become obsessed with asking a similar question each night, after reading that it 'helped family bonding' and 'increased positivity and thankfulness' in a household. It was the bane of everyone else's day, because everyone had to give an answer or the knife-beaters came out.

Nobody messed with the knife beaters.

Shiara perked up at the question.

Kendra paled.

Shiara waved her hand wildly, asking to be chosen first.

Grandma Sorenson looked delighted and agreed.

Kendra made a desperate grab for Shiara.

Kendra missed.

And Shiara started to talk about the Baby Fairy Education Incident.

Nobody ever let Kendra live it down. (Though Shiara was ribbed plenty for neglecting to tell her son he was half fairy.)

#fablehaven fairies #fablehaven #fic #sort of #headcannon #fairies believe in adopt don't shop #raxtus is half fairy #shiara #kendra sorenson #fairies #baby fairies #I may have gone slightly over board with italics and brackets #a group of fairies is called a dazzle now #Raxtus is about to have Issues

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anticomedygarden · 9 months

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can we give ourselves one more chance

Annabeth is having trouble adjusting after the giant war. What better way to attempt to handle her quickly deteriorating mental state than to get a dog?

title from 'under pressure' by queen

small tw: there is a semi-graphic panic attack starting at 'one hour earlier' and ending at the end of that section

also on ao3

this topic is really important to me. i hope y'all like it!

They build the shrine at the edge of the woods.

It's a simple design, just a fake stone sword stuck into the ground with the names of the demigods lost to the titan war. A similar one stands a few feet away for the giant war, but for some reason, Annabeth is inexplicably drawn to this one.

Objectively, she knows its placement is simply because it's an easily accessible spot while not being especially obvious; one can find it without searching, but they don't have to pass by it everyday. Emotionally, though, she can't help but see the symbolism. Light vs. dark, humanity vs. nature, society on the brink of unhindered chaos where the only barrier is the shrine. The only barrier is war. The barrier is Luke.

Annabeth isn't sure how she made it back here again, staring at the shrine, barely restraining herself from tracing Luke's name over and over until her fingers bleed with the weight of it. How close had they come to losing it all?

Now, it won't be long until the conch horn sounds, but she's not hungry. Just like yesterday. And the day before. And everyday since Tartarus.

She can't stomach the dining pavilion, anyway, not with Percy unable to eat anything substantial, either, despite the urgings of their friends, or to see the hole in the Hephaestus table where Leo should be. She can't bear to scrape more food into the fire and recite prayers to her mother only to be met with stony silence.

The conch horn sounds, and a warm body drops down next to hers. "Here again?"

It's become somewhat of a ritual at this point, Percy finding Annabeth here.

"I...don't know," she admits. He is the only one who gets to hear her say those words.

Sluggishly, he stretches his legs out in front of him as she leans against his side. "Me either."

They sit in silence for a bit.

Today, there are a few bouquets of flowers scattered around the shrines and some little trinkets. Someone has left a note that reads, We love you, Michael. Apollo cabin, most likely.

Percy asks her the same thing he's asked everyday since the end of the war.

"Any word from your mom?"

As usual, she shakes her head, and tries to ignore the ever present feeling of disappointment in her chest. "Your dad?"

Like the sea, Poseidon is less predictable. Some days - most days, honestly - the sea god doesn't communicate at all with his son. Some days, Percy is granted a whispered mind-to-mind conversation, tucked away in corners from Zeus' prying eyes and ears. Even fewer days, Poseidon comes directly to camp to see his son on the beach to make sure the bags under his eyes have gone down and he's still gaining back weight. More often than not, he is just as disappointed as Annabeth.

No matter what, it is still more than Annabeth has gotten from her mother.

Absolutely nothing.

"Yeah. He asked me how I was doing."

"And?" It is surely a lie.

"I said fine." Bingo. "What am I supposed to say, you know?"

She does know. Nobody wants to hear that the two most powerful demigods of their time are struggling, and the gods don't want to face their failures.

It isn't long before they change the subject.

"Mom thinks she found a school that will take me for senior year," Percy says, tone cautiously optimistic.

She beams. "That's great!" One step closer to NRU together. Now, Annabeth just has to broach the subject of boarding school in New York with her dad, not that she thinks he'd say no. No one really wants her in California.

He smiles sheepishly. "Yeah. It's called 'Alternate High School.' Apparently they specialize in kids with no other options." She almost starts talking about mortals and how stupid they are to not see how amazing he is, but he doesn't seem to care. "Whatever. I'm just happy they'll take me."

She throws an arm around her boyfriend's shoulders and kisses his jaw. "I can't wait."

They sit there for a bit longer, talking about nothing important, before it's time for campfire and then bed where they will both lay silently until morning without sleeping.

It starts like this.

Annabeth is dragging herself back to her dorm from Percy's apartment one day when she hears the unmistakable whine of a hellhound. Her fingers go straight for the drakon bone sword at her hip, and, before she knows it, she's turned around and slashed the great beast in half.

Just like that, it's gone. No fanfare; just a small shower of dust that coats the sidewalk, shimmering gold like cornflakes.

The mortals keep going as if nothing happened, and she supposes to them, nothing did happen. She knows she should keep going, too, or she'll miss curfew, but she can't get herself to move.

Instead, her sword tips our of her grasp, falling to the ground with a clatter. She didn't even give the dog a chance to do anything to her, just mercilessly cut it down, sent it down below to ruminate in that monster's body for the gods know how long. The sword may as well be her dagger, her hands Luke's as he kills himself, Percy's hands as he chokes Akhlys.

Annabeth falls to the ground with a sob, one thought circling in her mind.

I don't want to be a killer anymore.

Three days later, Annabeth throws her bag down on the Jackson's kitchen table and says, "I want a dog."

Percy pauses, a soapy bowl in his hands. "Okay...?" His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion.

"I already checked, and New York housing requires buildings to accept service animals. If they get picky about it, we can get the dog registered to you, but since I've been listing your apartment as my permanent address, it shouldn't be a problem. There's a Humane Society nearby. They spay and neuter and give all the shots for free-"

"Okay, okay, hold on," Percy interrupts, holding up a wet hand. "Not that I don't think this isn't a great idea, but is there a reason you've suddenly decided we need a dog?"

Annabeth shakes her head, because if she has to think about why, she'll have to think about everything else, and she doesn't want to think about everything else.

Of course, Percy sees right through her, and a second later, dry hands are cupping her face, a thumb tracing a tear she didn't know was there. "'Beth," he starts, "what's going on?"

She suddenly realizes that she's barely been holding it together the last three days, throwing herself into pet research and school work to distract from her fracturing mind, and gods, if one look from Percy doesn't unravel her completely.

"I just-" A sob breaks free from her throat, and several more follow. Tears cascade from her eyes like blood.

Like always, Percy is right there to press her face into his chest, picking up the pieces, staunching the flow, and all the other metaphors that had ever been used to describe a protector, and she could almost believe that neither of their bodies had ever been used to hurt, to kill, or to maim.

When the sobs finally taper off and the tears slow to a trickle, she manages to choke out, "We're supposed to be protectors."

He makes to pull back, but she digs her fingers into his shirt so she doesn't have to see the ever present bags under his eyes, mirrors of her own. With Sally practically force feeding them now that they're back in New York for the school year, she can't feel his ribs through his shirt anymore, but she knows that doesn't mean anything. They may not be living with constant reminders of what they've been through, but all that really means is they've found better distractions.

"What do you mean?"

She sniffles and burrows deeper into his chest. "We're supposed to protect people, but lately it just feels like all we're doing is killing things. I want to feel like I'm doing something good again."

One of Percy's hands comes up to stroke her hair. "You are so good. You do good things all the time, baby."

"I know," she says, though she becomes less sure everyday. "I still want a dog."

"Our dogs are in this room on both sides," the shelter worker, a young woman with coiled black hair, says, gesturing to the large open space to the left. "Their information packets should indicate everything you need to know about the dog. If you find one you want to have a one on one with, feel free to come up to the desk and ask."

Annabeth nods, attention already taken over by what can only be described as a warehouse floor of dog enclosures, each containing an adorable dog. She walks right in.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Percy asks as he allows her to pull him from cage to cage.

Annabeth isn't ashamed to admit that she researched dog breeds and took several personality tests to find which breed would best suit their lifestyle: highly trainable, active, protective, apartment friendly, good with young kids and, as they had just found out a few weeks ago, babies. However, she also knows that it's very difficult to predict the temperament of a rescue dog and even more difficult to find a purebred, not that pedigree is particularly important to her. "Ideally, a terrier or shepherd, but the most important things are trainability, activity level, and friendly with kids and babies." They stop in front of the first cage to see a little black and brown dog, not quite Yorkie looking but not really anything else looking either. Must be a mutt.

Percy holds his phone up to the information card to scan it through the translator app into Greek. "Bella. I am a spayed female Yorkshire terrier mix. Staff shelter think I am about 11 months old. I have been here for two weeks." Underneath that is a checklist of compatibility traits, color coded. Thank the gods. Annabeth looks at it while Percy attempts to pet Bella through the bars.

"Aww, babe, look," her boyfriend says, drawing her attention to the floor. Percy had somehow managed to reach the tiny dog who was splayed out on her back enjoying the treatment. "Do you wanna see her one-on-one?"

It absolutely breaks her but- "I don't think she'd be a good fit for us. She wouldn't be able to keep up, and under 'good with kids,' it says 'unsure.'"

Percy pouts a little but nods, and they move onto the next enclosure.

This one is a 2 year old medium sized black mutt, and again, it breaks her heart, but he's listed as bad with kids. Between Camp and Sally being pregnant, they just can't have that in the house.

They pass a few more enclosures, all amazing and adorable but just not right, before they get to a cage in the back corner with a white and brown dog sleeping on a cot. It's hard to tell how big the animal is because they're laying down, but a good estimate is medium to large.

As soon as they get to the cage, the dog stands up and trots over to the bars revealing a triangle shaped face, sickle ears, and a gorgeous off-white coat speckled with light brown that absolutely takes her breath away. Her original size estimate had been correct; the dog comes up to about her lower thigh. The fur is deep but not long; just imagining sinking her fingers into it makes her feel like she's getting a hug from Sally.

She crouches in front of the cage and jams her fingers through the bars, and the dog leans forward to sniff them. She holds her breath, and, a second later, the dog shoves they're face under her hand for pets, and her heart completely melts.

This dog better be good with kids because leaving them behind will break her.

Percy tugs on her shoulder, jarring her from the moment, and says, "Babe, look."

Following his index finger, the dog's bio reads, Luke. I am a neutered male Australian shepherd mix. Shelter staff think I am about 3 years old. I have been here for two months.

Luke.

Percy presses a kiss to her head before she even realizes she's crying.

She really needs to get a handle on that.

Gods, how did her life come to this? She's having some sort of mental breakdown/religious experience in a fucking animal shelter of all places because a dog has the same name as her dead friend.

Still holding on to her, Percy flags down a shelter worker. "What can you tell us about this dog?"

This shelter worker is another young woman, this time with straight green hair clutching a clipboard. She smiles sadly. "Luke's been with us for a while now. He's very active and is doing wonderfully with his training and is already potty trained." She stops there, fidgeting nervously.

"How did he get here?" Annabeth asks. It all sounds great, but the woman is clearly hiding something. She braces herself.

"Well, Luke is a second chance animal which means he was abandoned by his previous owner. That tends to make potential adopters nervous, but I can assure you that Luke is an amazing dog with a great temperament." She says the last part with conviction as if she's used to people doubting the temperament of second chance animals which, of course, she probably is.

Great. Now Annabeth is self identifying with a dog.

Percy pulls away from her then and reaches down to pet the dog who is staring up at Annabeth with wide brown eyes and a pink tongue lolling out of his mouth, somehow looking even cuter than before. He takes to Percy as fast as he took to Annabeth. "Do you know anything about the previous family?"

Do you know why anyone would do such a heartless thing as leaving their dog alone?

The woman shrugs, but Annabeth can see in her eyes the same anger she's feeling. "Unfortunately, we never actually met the previous owners, but there are a number of reasons people surrender their pets to shelters. Sometimes it's money problems, sometimes divorce, sometimes health issues, sometimes the previous owners die and the family can't take them in. Sometimes when people have kids, the pets don't get along with children or the children develop allergies. Occasionally, puppy mills and illegal breeders are busted, and the animals are sent here. You just never know with rescues what you're getting." It is clear from her words that the woman really cares about what she does, and Annabeth can't help but respect her. She knows from her research that shelter work is challenging and often depressing and discouraging, things Annabeth relates to hard.

A glance at Luke's chart tells her that he meets all their criteria down to activity level and protectiveness.

Percy looks up at her, and she nods. "We'd like to see him one on one if that's alright."

The woman looks absolutely incensed. "That's great!"

The one on one session only confirms what they already know, that Luke is the one they want. He runs right to them and climbs into their laps, alternating between licking them all over and demanding pets. His fur is exactly as heavenly as Annabeth imagined, maybe even more so. At some point, Percy steps out to call his mom because they can't adopt a dog when they're under 18.

It is around then that Annabeth learns the feeling of a dog licking peanut butter directly out of her hands is the best feeling in the world. She never wants the moment to end.

An hour later, they're back home at the Jackson's apartment following Luke around as he explores every inch of the place. He's hesitant at first, careful to not leave the general proximity of people but eager to get into places even Annabeth can't. (And won't. No human should have to walk through Percy's maze of dirty clothes.)

Eventually, they make it back into the living room, Paul relaxing on the couch and Sally doing something in the kitchen. He must have come in while they were following Luke around.

"Hey, boy." Paul puts his hand out, and the dog runs over to sniff him. "So this is the new family member?"

Annabeth nods, and she and Percy sit on the floor to get out dog toys. "His name's Luke. He's a 3 year old Australian shepherd mix."

Paul smiles as he scratches Luke's ears. "Well, he's very sweet. I think you two picked a good one."

Annabeth beams, and it is then she realizes that she hasn't thought about Tartarus or her parents or the wars or even school since she first saw Luke. "Me, too."

Annabeth never thought a dog could change her life so much, but laying on the ground in Central Park under the stars, a hand trailing through Luke's fur, she knows she could never go back to before.

See, she's laying like this, tracing constellations, technically illegally, because of a goddamn peacock.

One hour earlier

They are just taking a walk. Annabeth is just trying to take her dog on his nighttime walk. Why does she have to ruin everything? Why does she have to insert herself into every moment of their lives? It isn't enough that her actual mother refuses to acknowledge her existence, but Hera has to monitor her like fucking Big Brother?

Annabeth buries her free hand in her hair and tugs, near tears. Of course, senior year has just been too easy, apparently. Nevermind the all nighters and scholarship essays, the bullies and the nights she almost quits because it's too damn much.

Luke whines and pulls on his leash in an attempt to move Annabeth forward, but her eyes refuse to leave the blue and green bird in front of her. Then, the dog gives a particularly hard tug, and she stumbles forward, forced to either keep moving or get trampled in the throngs of people somehow still out at 9:30 at night in New York City.

Her eyes dart around to the people around her, sure that one of them is the marriage goddess in disguise. Why else would there be a peacock here?

Too distracted to notice where Luke is leading her, they somehow end up in Central Park which Annabeth only realizes when there is no one else to pick apart with her eyes. That still doesn't let her off the hook, though. Hera could be hiding as a bug or a bird or a fucking gust of wind for all she knows.

“Where are you?" she screams. "What do you want from me?"

She doesn't care that anyone could find her here, that she could get arrested. If Hera is around, Annabeth might as well be fucking dead. She should've known better than to try and escape the brutality of her world; did she really think a dog could save her?

"I don't want you here!" she yells. Then, falling to the ground, ass smarting in a way she'll certainly feel tomorrow, hands hitting the dirt with a thud, she whispers, "I don't want you here."

I don't want you here I don't want you here I don't want you hereidontwantyouhereidontwantyouhereIDONTWANT-

Something cold and wet presses into her palm, and she draws back involuntarily. It then pushes into her neck, her face, then over and over again it hits her cheeks. Something incredibly soft hits her right hand, and she feels something else wap her in the thigh.

Luke, she thinks, and for once, the name doesn't give her more anxiety. The dog.

Luke continues to lick her face as his tail thumps against her leg. Slowly, very slowly, she comes back to herself. The anxiety is still there, the fear that Hera is spying on her even as there's no one around, but other possibilities trickle in. Maybe it’s someone’s pet, or it’s one of the ones from the zoo that they let wander around.

And she is cold. Always freezing after a panic attack.

But Luke helps with that, too. He stays in her lap, warming her with his fur and body heat until she gains the strength to pull her phone out of her pocket and text Percy to come get her. She would send an Iris message, but there's no rainbows here at this time.

Suddenly, it hits her. Luke can sense gods. They'd found out after an accidental run in with Demeter. If Hera, or any other mythical being for that matter, were around, Luke would have alerted her.

She snorts, then giggles, and it turns into a full on laughing fit, the kind that makes her stomach hurt and tears fall freely down her face. Maybe the tears are from before. Maybe they never stopped. Maybe she's been crying the whole damn time. It's all so fucking pointless.

She falls backward into the grass, Luke curling next to her, and stares up at the stars as they wait for her boyfriend to come get them because if she moves she'll surely disintegrate like a freshly-slain monster.

The next time she's especially thankful to have a dog in her life is during the summer between senior year and the start of college when she and Percy are staying at Camp.

Some time in the night, Percy startles awake with a shout, pulling Annabeth from her own fitfull slumber. Before she can even sit up, Luke is on top of him and licking his face, whining as he paws at his neck. She watches as the terror on hier boyfriend's face drains into confusion and finally weary anxiety, and he doesn't even have time to reach panic.

When his breathing slows and Luke settles on his chest, Percy turns his head to her and says, "I'm so glad we got a dog."

She smiles. "Me, too."

Annabeth winds through the streets of New Rome, black dog leash clutched in one hand. Luke cuts a handsome figure in front of her in his little service dog vest, drawing stares and mournful looks as people realize they can't pet him.

They'd started training him as a psychiatric service animal pretty soon after adopting him, so she is pretty used to it at this point, but it never fails to amuse her.

Finally, they make it to the restaurant, some Italian place Thalia picked out. The dark haired girl spots her quickly and waves her over.

"Hey," Thalia greets. She's seated at one of the outdoor tables with a big green umbrella over it, tipping their whole area into pleasant shade.

"Hey, it's so great to see you," she says, partially unbelieving that those words just came out of her mouth in a truthful manner and not as an overly polite greeting to someone she hopes she'd never have to see again. Like her stepmom, for instance.

"You, too."

Annabeth picks the menu up off the wiry black table, pointedly not wondering how much longer she'll be able to look at her oldest friend without Thalia looking like her youngest friend. "How have you been?"

Thalia swirls her straw in her water. "Pretty good," she answers, and seems to mean it. "We followed a monster all the way up into northern Canada last month and didn't even kill it."

Annabeth laughs. "Really?"

Thalia rolls her eyes. "You know how Lady Artemis is. If it's not hurting anyone or damaging the ecosystem, she says leave it."

After the year Annabeth's had, it's incredibly refreshing to hear, though she can't help but feel a little bitter that Artemis can talk to the hunters but Athena can't say one word to her daughter (the daughter that saved her ass). "So you went up there for nothing?"

Thalia slings a leather clad arm over the back of her chair, metal bracelets clinking. "I wouldn't say nothing. We saw trees older than the gods and thicker than Ares." Annabeth's nose scrunches at the comparison, and Thalia laughs. "We saw millions of stars every night. Do you know what the Milky Way looks like?"

Annabeth shakes her head, knowing only what she's seen in books. Light pollution truly is a bitch.

"Gods, it's so beautiful, you can't even breathe. There's so many colors. It's like staring into the face of - well, not a god, because that kinda sucks, but something amazing." Thalia gestures vaguely, and Annabeth is briefly blinded by the idea. Seeing something greater than the things she has already seen. Standing under a sky unburdened by human defacement and finding something so beautiful the Ancient Greeks made an entire myth for the creation of it. Her heart seizes, and she yearns. "Seriously, I'll show you sometime."

Suddenly, Annabeth isn't in New Rome anymore but a town square somewhere along the Eastern seaboard. 12 year old Thalia is telling her about her cross country travels, little Annabeth hanging onto every word, and Thalia laughs and says, "I'll show you sometime."

Back in the present, Luke the dog rests his head on her thigh and barks, sensing her increased uneasiness. She pets his fuzzy head. "It's alright, bud."

A waiter comes by and takes their orders, Thalia ordering a pizza because her and Percy really are exactly alike, and Annabeth ordering spaghetti because seeing Thalia makes her miss being seven.

Thalia leans in. "So what prompted you to get a dog?"

Annabeth gulps and figures there's really no reason to lie to Thalia. "PTSD. Guilt. Nightmares. Pick a reason, honestly."

Thalia nods in understanding. "Some of the girls have service animals, especially the newer ones. They really do help."

Annabeth assumes by 'have service animals', Thalia doesn't mean legally. "Yeah, it's amazing." Looking down at Luke, she can't believe how much he's helped her, and Percy, too. They rarely wake up screaming anymore, and when they do, he is right there to take care of them. "He can sense when we're panicking now, or even just when anxiety spikes."

She rubs his ears and leans down. "Can't you, boy? Yeah!" His tail thumps against the ground in excitement.

She sits back to see Thalia with a wide grin on her face. "What?"

Thalia points at the dog. "You know, it's kinda like you two adopted a kid together."

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "I highly doubt a kid would be able to help me through a PTSD induced flashback."

"Whatever. You and Jackson have a kid."

Annabeth's retort is lost as the waiter comes by to deposit their food.

As they chew, Thalia looks at Luke again.."What breed did you say he is?"

"The Humane Society said he's an Australian shepherd mix," Annabeth says, twirling a noodle onto her fork.

Thalia snorts. "There is no way in hell there's no pitbull in there."

Annabeth brightens. She'd actually come across this in her research. "Sometimes, shelters don't list traditionally aggressive breeds because they're harder to adopt out, and because if they become banned - which has happened before - the dogs can't be taken away. It's the same principle as big dogs being cheaper than small dogs."

Thalia stares for a moment, then looks furious. "I really hate mortals."

"Yeah, but at least some of them are fighting." It's as good a reason as any to hold onto hope.

They lapse into silence a bit as they eat their food.

"Luke." His head snaps up, and Annabeth feeds him a piece of bread.

Thalia makes some odd kind of aborted snort noise. "You named him Luke?"

Annabeth's eyes widen. She thought for sure she told her friend her dog's name before. "That was his name at the shelter."

"Good." Thalia visibly relaxes. "Wow, that's practically meant to be."

Annabeth isn't ready to brush off her reaction just yet. "Why would it be so bad if I named him Luke?" Obviously, she never would've done it herself, but she wants to know why Thalia is so horrified.

Thalia heaves a sign and sets down her pizza. "During the Titan war, I was constantly worried you were building him up in your head, remembering those two weeks as bigger than they actually were." Annabeth opens her mouth, but Thalia holds up a hand. "You were seven; I wouldn't have blamed you. I was just always afraid you would think of him as this great, amazing guy when in reality, he was...just a guy."

Annabeth's mouth gapes slightly. "Were you afraid I would join his side?"

Thalia's eyes widen. "No, I just didn't want you to start to think of him as a martyr. He was just a guy who fell to the wrong side."

Annabeth doesn't entirely understand what she's getting at, but she nods anyway, and they continue to eat and chat.

When it's time to leave, though, Thalia puts her hands on Annabeth's shoulders and says, "We only spent two weeks together on the run. They were two very important weeks, and you were very young, but please don't make us out to be more than we were." When she sees the dawning pain in Annabeth's eyes, she says, "I love you, and I will always love you, and so would Luke if he were still here. But we made mistakes. We let you down. Don't forget that, okay?"

Annabeth nods, still not entirely what the point is. She doesn't think she's been building them up in her head. Every Greek demigod in the US knows who Luke is and what he did; it would be impossible for her to forget.

But maybe she sometimes forgets what he did to her.

"I love you," Thalia says one last time. "See you soon."

"I love you, too."

Two months later, over a year after the giant war, Athena finally decides to speak to her daughter.

The wisdom goddess finds her on the beach of Camp Halfblood snuggled up next to Percy with Luke at their feet. It's winter break, and she couldn't be happier.

'Couldn't' being the key word. She could definitely be more happy now.

"Annabeth," she says. There is no tone, nothing to give a clue as to the reason of her visit. Luke starts barking, warning her that this isn't a nice visit.

"Mother?" she asks. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I not have a nice conversation with my daughter?" She raises a brown eyebrow, and Annabeth, frankly, has had it.

"A year ago, maybe. What do you want?" Next to her, Percy sucks in a breath, and Luke continues to bark.

"I'll let that slide because it's been so long, but you will not speak to me like that again," Athena says, dark brown hair lifting in the sea breeze.

A year ago, Annabeth might have considered listening, but a year ago, she still had hope that one of her parents might love her. "I'll speak to you however I damn please."

Percy grips her arm tighter as if he wouldn't say the exact same thing. "Annabeth, maybe you should-"

"I don't remember asking for your input, sea spawn," Athena hisses. "I came here to have a mature conversation with my daughter, but it seems I came in vain."

The sand tickles Annabeth's bare feet when she stands. "I'm the immature one? You're the one who ignored her daughter for a year after she saved your ass from insanity." Behind her, Percy stands as well, shushing Luke.

"As soon as you're ready to speak with me like an adult, you can have your time with me."

Words surge behind her shut mouth, something about how she was and is still a child despite what Olympus seems to believe, or that her "time with Athena" is about a year too late and she doesn't really care anymore. "Fine."

Athena clasps her hands in front of her. "You must stop this outlandish behaviour."

"What behaviour?"

"Concerning the Castellan boy."

"What-you mean my dog?"

Athena sighs. "I mean your insistence on honoring him in everything you do. I could tolerate it when the war was still recent in mortal terms, but this is getting a bit ridiculous, don't you think?"

Stupidly, Annabeth can still only think of the dog, though she's sure Athena is referencing other instances. "I didn't name him."

The goddess sighs again. "I am not talking about the dog, though that is an unfortunate coincidence. I am talking about the shrine, and the statue you plan to build, and your continued prayers for his swift and easy path through the underworld even two years after the fact."

Annabeth waits for more, but apparently that's it. "The shrine honors all of the demigods who died in the wars, and the statue is a reminder. I'm not sure how you think my prayers are a negative, but it's nice to know you've been getting them all this time."

Athena's eyes flash. "You say the shrine is for everyone, yet you only seem to pay attention to the one name, and I for one, don't need a reminder, not with this one's-" she points to Percy "-demands."

This argument is clearly going nowhere. "Aren't you the goddess of wisdom? Don't you know 'those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it'?"

"Yes, but you are not remembering the past. You are turning your traitor friend into a martyr."

Again, Annabeth might have fallen for her words had it not been for her conversation with Thalia. "You only think that because he pointed out the gods' flaws, flaws you are doing a pretty fucking good job of showing off right now. I know Luke wasn't a martyr, but the more you act like this, the more you make him into one."

Athena steps closer to Annabeth, close enough she can see the goddess' individual eyelashes. "Listen, girl-"

Abruptly, a wave crashes to shore, loud and disruptive, throwing them into ankle deep water. Athena jumps backward. "Stop this! You cannot scare me with water."

Annabeth turns to Percy whose eyes are wide. "That wasn't me!"

Another wave, bigger than the first, hits the sand, and realization dawns on Athena's face alongside horror. She turns to the sea. "Poseidon, you dare put my own daughter under your protection?"

This time, a slower wave climbs up the beach and leaves, revealing a bunch of seashells arranged to spell the word 'YES'. In a flash, the dark haired goddess is replaced by an owl and flaps away, up and up and up until Annabeth can't see her anymore.

She turns to Percy who looks just as bewildered as her.

He clears his throat. "Uh, what the fuck?"

Amnabeth shrugs. " I have no idea."

They sit back down as they had been before Athena dropped in, snuggled together with Luke at their feet.

She should probably be sad and maybe even offended that Athena doesn't believe in her anymore, but she just can't bring herself to care. She had made peace with the fact that she would never have the picture perfect parents that love her, or even really like her, a long time ago. She was building up to the life she deserved, and carving out little pieces of that life in the people she loves was good enough for now. She was only 19; she had a lot of life left, and she still had a lot of healing. This wasn't the end of anything.

Good riddance. She has her family.

And, as night turns into day, they watch the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean, clutched in each other's arms, ready for whatever comes next.

everything in here is extensively researched or i know from my own experiences. adoption and dogs are really close to my heart. i'd link the sources but there's so many that i've gathered for essays, presentations, etc., throughout so many years that it would take me hours. if you spot something i got wrong, please let me know!

edit 11-19-23: I changed all the mentions of Luke being an ESA to a service animal or service animal in training because being an ESA basically just means someone paid for the certification and has a doctor's note, and they are not actually trained for anything. In this case, Luke is a psychiatric service dog trained for things like deep pressure therapy, buffering, room searching, etc., because he helps his owners with PTSD. Check abetternameneeded 's comments on ao3 for more info, and/or these two articles: https://www.ada.gov/topics/service-animals/ https://www.servicedogcertifications.org/psychiatric-service-dog/#psd-tasks

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