Of Pawns and Queens

Summary: What if only one demigod was allowed to fall into Tartarus? Only one demigod suffered a one-way trip. A very hard fall. Who would fall?

Disclaimer: If I owned Heroes of Olympus, it would actually be an epilogue when Percy and Annabeth got married and were chosen to be Gods, or something sickeningly cute like that

Warning: Extreme Mark of Athena spoilers!

Percy's heart thudded to a halt when he saw Annabeth retreat to the pit. Her grey eyes were frantic as she slowly stumbled towards Tartarus. Percy knew she was searching for an answer in what was happening, and millions of ideas were swarming in her mind. But none of them were right.

Her foot was being dragged as if it was by an invisible string; he could faintly hear Hazel's screams about cutting something off, but he zone out all noise. He was only focusing on how to prevent Annabeth from getting hurt.

Annabeth's legs swept out from under her and she fell on her face, when she looked up she had a cut right above her right eyebrow. And the blood trickling down her face triggered something in Percy.

Percy's mind went at a speed which Arion would be proud of, what did he do? Percy was never a thinker, that's how he earned the Seaweed Brain nickname.

Before she could fall he lunged at his Wise Girl. The momentum was strong, as if Tartarus was in super vacuum mode. And Percy found himself being carried along as well, the webs getting stuck to his clothes, and the gravel nipping at his body. Percy ignored the pain, Annabeth first and then moan about pain later.

The others had joined Hazel's cries as well. Out of the corner of Percy's eyes he saw Nico hobbling after him and Hazel trying to disentangle her sword from the rope ladder. Frank was in dragon mode trying to prevent the statue from falling and had Leo's undivided attention.

Percy had lost the temptation to strangle Nico. He still looked broken, even from a distance. And if that's what Tartarus did to someone, he refused to let that happen to his Wise Girl.

Annabeth started to sob. Percy wanted to scream every curse he knew. Being a demigod entitled you to a life of unfairness. Percy thought that maybe they'd get cut a little bit of slack, the gods were grateful for them saving Olympus that they'd give them a monster free holiday. And perhaps Percy could deal with the monsters, but he couldn't deal with Annabeth crying.

Annabeth was at the edge of the pit and Percy let out a sharp intake of air. She seemed to suddenly notice something, her stormy grey eyes having that intellectual glint, but mixed within was a look of horror, as if her realisation was too late.

Percy followed her gaze and saw a thin silvery line attached to her leg. Percy didn't think monsters could get sneakier; Medusa tried to turn him into stone by taking a 'picture'. But the way Arachne had carefully affixed the web to Annabeth's ankle, to make if it was just a loose cobweb wrapped around her feet, was super sneaky.

Monsters weren't as stupid as Percy thought they were.

"No," Percy muttered as a tsunami of dread washed over him, "My sword…"

Percy desperately wanted Riptide. To him Riptide was a life saviour, even the greatest mathematicians wouldn't have been able to count the amount of times Percy would be dead without it, but reaching for Riptide would mean letting go of Annabeth.

The voice which haunted Percy's dreams buzzed sickly sweet and evil, No escape, I go to Tartarus and you will come too.

Annabeth looked at Percy wistfully and in pain. Percy didn't have to be telepathic to know what she was thinking. After all the years he spent with Annabeth, one look and he knew her every thought. She wanted him to let go, to be safe and maybe they'd find each other later. But that was only a maybe, Annabeth was a realist. And by later she may mean the Underworld.

Percy had spent what felt like an eternity away from Annabeth, and he owed her the world. And if the only way he could do that was to prevent her from falling into Tartarus so be it.

One sacrifice. One beautiful sacrifice to wake the goddess.

He tightened his grip, he knew his hand was sweaty, he was nervous and he had just fought with two giants. But he hoped they weren't clammy enough to make Annabeth loose her grip and full deep into the abyss of Tartarus.

He summoned all the energy he could, and put in more effort than he did when he was holding the weight of the world and gradually pulled Annabeth to the surface and shoved her away.

The shoving reminded him of when he was twelve, with the constant nicknames and the only ones he could think of were Wise Girl and Owl Head which Percy admitted was slightly lame, even by his standards.

Except he shoved her for fun before, now he was shoving Annabeth to save her life.

Annabeth looked at him, and part of him was expecting to see that annoyed and slightly arrogant look. But she just looked vulnerable.

Percy hated that vulnerable look Annabeth was wearing. She was never the damsel in distress; she was always that female knight in shining armour. She never needed saving, and Percy thought the damsels who were worth anything didn't need saving but he just wanted her to be safe.

Gaia had discovered a weakness in Percy which Kronos forgot. Kronos focused the Achilles' heel on the small of Percy's back. But that was never where Percy's real Achilles' heel was. Annabeth Chase was the part that would kill him.

The earth trembled and Percy lost his balance and fell. He almost lost consciousness but his hand managed to grip on to the ledge.

Annabeth was staring at him, once unable to say anything. Note to self, Percy thought If I ever need Annabeth to be quiet, dangling above Tartarus seems to do the trick.

He kept his grip and held eye contact with Annabeth, not because he feared Tartarus, but because he feared not saying goodbye. He disappeared once without warning, he wouldn't repeat that again.

"Goodbye Wise Girl," Percy managed to splutter and took one last look at Annabeth before his clammy hands lost grip on the ledge.

Annabeth was leaning slightly over, her face was sweaty and her curly hair clung to it, she looked tired and slightly pained. Her constant tan had paled over the months they were separated. Percy wondered if she'd been cooped up all the time working on the Argo II. Her words were like the Siren's music to him.

Percy swore to the Gods in Olympus that his last sight before he was shrouded by darkness was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Annabeth Chase was a Queen among women, and a Queen in a chessboard game, she was the most valuable and important piece and played by her own rules. And as Gaia said, Percy was only a pawn; a pawn always sacrificed themselves for their Queen.

Admittedly this is probably my shortest one shot, but I didn't want to go into endless details like how much dirt was in Annabeth's nails, or how many strands of hair Nico has. I don't usually do alternative endings, but this was just so incredibly tempting. And it killed me slightly writing this, because you know, Percabeth feels.

Hope you like as much as Percy likes blue cookies!