Percy P.O.V

I hopped on a late night train to Montauk as soon as I could get out of the War Council. After getting off the train, I wandered through Montauk to find the cottage my family usually rented. The only people out that late were those you didn't want to run into at any time. I shot them warning glances to say "I've dealt with scarier bastards than you. However tough you are, I'm tougher."
I thought about Jason the entire time. A part of me wanted to damn him for being a pig-headed idiot who always had to play the hero. Jason was the most notoriously honorable guy in New York. He would do anything for his friends, up to and including risking his own neck. Now he was throwing his life to prevent war with the Titans.
Jason was the type of person who always did the noble thing but hardly ever the smart thing. A smart man would never have gotten himself in a situation like this in the first place.
I tried to wrap my head around a way out of this mess that didn't involve sacrificing Jason but plotting and strategy were never my strong suit. Each possibility seemed like slicing the head off of a hydra: one problem was cut off only to have more sprout up in its place.
A/N a song which reminds me of what Percy is probably feeling is "Sonya Alone" from Pierre, Natasha, and the Great Comet Of 1812. Both Percy and Sonya are worried that their friend is going to do something stupid that will ruin their lives.

https://youtu.be/_HHmHv26tao

"I heard rumors that Atlas Titan is going to meet up with some associates in Quebec," Nico told us as we left his father's house, "That should buy Grace some time."
A/N I've just gotten back from spending five weeks studying French in Quebec. I can't wait to geek out in the following chapters.
Very little happened in New York without the little guy knowing about it. He moved about in the shadows and saw and heard everything.
"Then I guess I'm going to Quebec," Jason said, "No use delaying the inevitable."
"Catch the bastard off guard, good idea," I answered.
"Why don't you come with me? I'll need your support. Bring Annabeth along, we'll make a vacation of it."
"I promised Ma that I'd spent some time with her in Montauk. Give me a week to unwind first but I'm in."
Jason shook my hand.
"It's a deal."
"I'll talk to Annabeth. We need to bring someone along who speaks French."

A/N another Jason and Percy song is Pop Rocks and Coke by Green Day.

https://youtu.be/GW3RS0ZlGfQ

Our cottage was a little, grey shingled box perched up the sand dunes near Half-Blood Cove, an old fisherman's shack fixed up for tourists. It had a small yard fenced in by blueberry bushes and a dirt path leading down to the beach.

I banged on the front door and windows to wake up all inside. Several minutes later, the faint light of an oil lamp was seen in the window of the master bedroom. The light moved and then reappear in the doorway, illuminating my Ma in her nightgown.

"What in heaven?" she groaned with a mixture of grogginess and annoyance.
Rubbing her eyes, she noticed that it was me. She rushed over and hugged me before slapping across the side of my head.
"Perseus Jackson!" she shouted, "What do you think you're doing showing up like a thief in night and scaring us half to death."
"I was in a hurry to see you, Ma," I explained.
She kissed my forehead and stroked my cheek.
"I'm glad you made it home safely, boy. What are you waiting for, come inside."

I spent the night sleeping on the sofa in the living room and woke up to blue pancakes for breakfast. After eating, I decided to take a walk down to Half-Blood Cove.
The Parthenon, the Chase family's palatial summer home, looked down imperiously from the hill above the beach. A girl was also out for a walk that morning. She was dressed in a red, white, and blue check print blouse and shorts.

Her blond hair was worn loose and she was barefoot.
"Morning, Wise Girl," I called over to her, "Miss me?"
"No, of course not," Annabeth replied, "I only counted every minute you were gone."
"And how long was I gone?"
"One week, three days, six hours, and about twelve minutes," she took my hand and lead me over to the surf, "Come, tell me all about Delphi."
I told her about the Underwoods and their farm, Tyson and Ella, and the barn party. She told me about her first ball and the archery competition she attended with her friend Thalia.
"Thalia and a girl named Zoë Nightshade tied for first place," she said, "The two of them have been rivals for years and as you can imagine, they were not too happy about having to share the prize. Thalia kept saying: If I didn't beat Nightshade, I might as well have lost."
She took my hand in her two smaller ones.
"I heard about your friend Jason; I'm sorry."
"I'm worried about him," I replied, "He's running on borrowed time."
"How long are you going to be here in Montauk?"
"About a week, then I'm going to Quebec."
"What's in Quebec?"
"You, you're coming with me."
"Really, I've always wanted to see Quebec. I'll have to tell a few white lies to my parents; they won't approve of us traveling alone together."
"I have a present for you, Wise Girl. Hold out your wrist," I reached into my pocket for the sailor's knot bracelet I had made for her and tied it around her wrist, "I made this while I was away."
"I love it! Now let me show you what I've been doing while you were away."

Annabeth lead me up the hill to a little cottage similar to the one my family was staying in: a small cube made of grayish wooden shingles with an overhanging roof. It was missing a chimney and the roof had a number of holes in it.
"My parents gave it to me to fix up," she explained, "When Thalia was down, we cleaned it out. It was filled with junk and you should have seen all the spiders. As you can see, a lot of repairs will need to be made but still, there's some life left in this old shack."
That was one of the things that had made me fall in love with Annabeth, she could see the possibilities in anything.
"Show me what it looks like inside," I told her.
The interior of the cottage could best be described as cozy. There was one central room which was a combination living room, kitchen, and dining room with a smaller room protruding out of the front of the house which Annabeth intended to use as an office. She had placed a drafting table and desk there: pieces of furniture that were both simple and practical as well as pretty and feminine.

In the main room, there was a hole in the wall where a fireplace would usually sit. Above it hung a watercolor painting of Half-Blood Cove.

Near the fireplace was an old-fashioned, cast iron, wood powered cook stove which had been cleaned out a restored to working order.

A ladder lead up to the attic where once a staircase had been.
"The staircase fell apart when I tried to climb it," Annabeth explained, "That and fixing the roof and chimney, and installing plumbing and electricity are the repairs that need to be done."
All the dust, cobwebs, and debris had been cleared out of the cottage and everything was clean and tidy.
"Looks like you're off to a great start," I told her.
"The roofer and plumber are coming next week," she replied, "The carpenter and the electrician are coming the week after. In the meantime, I've been looking around in antique and second-hand shops for furniture and decorations."
"I can't wait to see what this place looks like when you're done with it."

After seeing Annabeth's cottage, I returned to my own cottage to change into my swim trunks before meeting her back on the beach. She stood there in a white bathing suit, looking like Miss America pageant winner.

We went for a swim during which I found a long, flat piece of driftwood.
"This would make a nice sign for your cottage," I told Annabeth.
"What would I write on it?" she replied.
"The name of the cottage of course."
"What should we name it?"
I racked my brain to come up with any ideas and the first thing that came out of mouth was an inside joke between my father and me.
"We should call it Nereus cottage."
"Why Nereus?"
"Did I ever tell you the story about my dad and his wife?"
She shook her head no.
"Years ago, when Dad was a poor, young fisherman in Greece, he was in love with a girl named Amphitrite. But her family tried to marry her off to a rich, old man named Nereus. On the day of the wedding, Dad sailed to the mainland, jumped off his boat and swam to the dock where the wedding was taking place, shouting "Amphitrite!" Amphitrite jumped in the water to join Dad and they sailed off together. Needless to say, Old Nereus became a laughing stock. To this day, Dad and I use the term "Nereus" to mean "old and shabby."
"Nereus Cottage, I like it."

Annabeth and I spent the entire day together. She shared a delicious fish dinner with my family and we built a bonfire on the beach after dark.
"There's the Little Dipper," I pointed out in the sky, "and below it, the Big Dipper."
It was a clear night and sky glittered with stars.
"That one's Hercules and there's Sagittarius, the archer."
She fell asleep with her head on my shoulder. The perfect end to a perfect day.

Piper's P.O.V

On the subway to the Palace Theater, I couldn't stop staring at my left hand. A silver ring had been placed on the finger next to the little finger. A few silvers of diamond were placed in a setting carved to make the stone look bigger than it was.

It wasn't much but the gaudiest bauble from Tiffany's couldn't have been more beautiful.
After all the trouble I'd caused, I expected to be hated. Silena bore no ill will against me even after I had been the cause of her husband's death. She simply wept over what star-crossed lovers Jason and I were and insisted on taking me to buy a wedding dress after I told her that Jason had proposed. Silena was like our mother; to her, love justified any crime. Jason understood and forgave everything and even asked me to be his wife.
The Olympians had decided that would avoid a war with the Titans by having Jason confront Atlas himself. I wondered how old man Zeus could possibly send his son to his death like this, but then again, Zeus had who knows how many bastards all over the city, so there was plenty more where Jason came from. Jason's reason for proposing was that if he was going to die, he wanted to die as my husband. Of course, I said yes.
We were going to honeymoon in Quebec, where Atlas was believed to going to meet up with some business partners: a last fling before Jason's fateful meeting.

My reason for going to the Palace Theater was to wish my father "break a leg" on his first rehearsal for Salomé. I found him getting coffee at the cafe across the street from the theater.
"Over here, Pipes," he called, gesturing me over to the stool next to his at the counter.
As far as I'm concerned, Tristan McLean is one of the most handsome men in the world and most of the theater-going public of New York will agree with me. I was surprised that such a good-looking man could walk into even a tiny greasy spoon like this one and not be noticed, especially if he was one of Broadway's most sought-after leading men.
The world didn't know that he had been born in a Cherokee reservation in Oklahoma. He could pass for white, in an exotic, Rudolph Valentino sort of way: slick dark hair, beautiful, expressive dark eyes, and a dashing smile with a dimpled chin. There was something gorgeously tragic about in his sad eyes which made him perfect for a sensitive, romantic lead. Something which made women long to be the one to cure him of his melancholy.
My father always said that The Cherokee carried generations of pain and suffering with them.
I sat down on the stool next to him at the counter.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked.
"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich," I replied, "And a black coffee."
The waitress quickly brought my coffee. Impatient, I took a big gulp without realizing that it was too hot and ended up burning my tongue.
"Same old Pipes," he said, giving me a gentle, bittersweet smile.
"I came to wish you luck on your first day of rehearsal, Pa," I replied, panting.
He would need it, with my mother being his co-star.
"That's sweet of you," he kissed me on the forehead.
"I also came to say that I'm getting married."
"Who's the lucky man?"
"His name is Jason Grace..."
With a mouth full of peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I told him the entire story of me and Jason and the mess we had gotten ourselves into.
"Oh Pipes," was all he could say.
I took his hands and began to cry, kohl black drops running down my cheeks. Damn mascara. He placed my head on his shoulder, removed the black cloche I was wearing and began stroking my hair.
"It's alright, Baby, it's alright."
"No Pa, it's not alright. The man I love is going to die."
He looked sad and helpless, knowing that there was nothing he could do to help me.

When we were finished eating lunch, I walked him across the street to the theater.
"Break a leg, Pa," I told him in front of the stage door.
"Thanks, Pipes," he gave me a kiss on the forehead.
A lady wearing a white chiffon dress printed with cherry blossoms and a large, floppy red hat with pink feathers.

"Hello Tristan," she said as she walked forward, "It's been a long time."
My father took her hand and kissed it.
"Aphrodite," he replied, "You haven't changed a bit."
My mother flushed with pleasure. She then rushed over to me and gave me a rib-crushing hug.
"And you, Piper. I read all about you in the papers. You're already notorious at eighteen. It took me until age twenty-two to become notorious. I'm so proud of you."
At first, I thought she was being sarcastic but my father and I were shocked to realize that she was dead serious.
"Mother," I began awkwardly, brushing some crumbs off of my pleated black shirt, "Jason and I are getting married."

"That's wonderful. Have you decided when the wedding is to be?"
"It's on Sunday."
"So soon? Well, Romeo and Juliet didn't waste time either," I wondered if she'd forgotten that Romeo and Juliet had both died tragically, "Have you picked out a dress yet?"
"No, Selina is taking me shopping on Thursday."
"Then I must come with you. Oh my darling, I'm so happy for you."
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