"You love him," Athena snapped.

Annabeth stood in front of her mother, dressed in formal Olympian robes. The hall of the gods was empty, save for the young woman, and the goddess of wisdom's fury. Annabeth gulped, but nodded. "Yes, mother. I love him."

"You. Love. Him?!" Athena put all her loathing into each of those three words.

"That is what I said, mother."

"How could you do this to me? How dare you insult me?"

"It was not my intention to insult you," said Annabeth.

"You dishonour me with his presence!" Athena yelled. "That a son of Poseidon would sully a daughter of Athena--"

"You would think the fact that he beat back Kronos would make him a better catch in your eyes, mother."

"Don't you get smart with me, young lady! Unless you wish to have your hair hiss."

Annabeth closed her mouth, a dozen obvious plays on Athena's job title left unsaid.

Athena turned away, kicking the marble tiles in her anger. "Oh, I shall have that boy's head on a platter for this!"

"Mom? Don't."

"The things I could do to him," Athena went on. "Bind him inside an olive tree that's being fed through a wood chipper."

"Mom, no."

"I could chain him to a mountain for eternity like Prometheus," Athena seethed. "And have the eagle go for something other than his liver."

Annabeth gulped. Then she drew herself up. "You will not harm Percy." Her voice echoed through the columns.

Athena glared at her. "Why not?"

"Because I will stand in your way if you do."

Athena folded her arms. "You'd lay down your life, for him?"

"I already have. A few times."

Athena turned away with a hiss.

"Mother," said Annabeth. "You have your wisdom; answer me honestly: would Percy ever hurt me deliberately."

Athena didn't look at Annabeth. "No."

"Would he ever treat me with disrespect?"

Athena folded her arms and tucked her head like a spoiled child. "No."

"Does he love me?"

"Well, of course he does," she snapped. "Even he would have sense enough to see the beauty in the wisdom of a daughter of Athena."

"Is he, or is he not a hero?"

Athena closed her eyes. "Yes."

"Is he brave?"

"Yes."

"Compassionate?"

"Yes."

"Loyal?"

"Oh, yes."

"Do you hate him simply because he's Poseidon's son?"

"No."

"Then, why do you hate him, mother?"

Athena rounded on Annabeth. "Because he thinks with his heart, not his head!"

God and demigod stood a long moment, staring at each other. Finally, Annabeth let out the breath she was holding. "That's it, isn't it? That's the real reason why you hate him so: because he doesn't think a problem through; he just acts. He guesses. But that's how he beat back Kronos."

"He got lucky," said Athena. "The truly great are never just lucky."

"He wasn't just lucky," said Annabeth.

"He has twice as much passion as intelligence," said Athena with a surly grumble. "You deserve better."

"No, I don't," said Athena sharply. "I don't want something that doesn't exist, I want him."

"He can hardly be a suitable match for a woman of your intellect."

"Look, Percy isn't stupid," said Annabeth.

"His grand plan to confront Hades involved greeting Cerberus with a very long stick!" Athena yelled.

"It would have worked with a red rubber ball," said Annabeth.

"No hero worth his salt carries a red rubber ball!" Athena stormed.

Silence decended. But this time, Athena kept her gaze away from Annabeth. The goddess looked more surly than angry. Annabeth took a deep breath, and said, "Look, you would rather I marry an intellectual equal. I get it. But Percy is my equal, in other ways. Sure, he doesn't appreciate architecture, but he appreciates the way I appreciate architecture. He loves me enough and understands enough to listen to me. He's my soulmate. Besides, it's his passion, his loyalty, his ability to love, that drew me to him. It made me a better fighter."

Athena waved a hand dismissively. "Passion has done nothing to your fighting abilities."

"Yes it has," said Annabeth. "When Percy first met me, I planned out grand strategies that treated players like chess pieces to be sacrificed. Percy showed me what was worth fighting for, and what was worth protecting, how every so-called chess piece, how every moment matters, even those times when I'm not thinking about the next battle plan or the next monument to the gods. I am a better person when I let my heart do my thinking as well as my brain, and I love Percy for showing me that. I won't change. And I will defy you if you try to take Percy away from me."

Athena stood a long moment, facing away from her daughter, her hand rubbing her temple. Without looking back, she said, "I can see there is no dissuading you. You have faced down my fury with the tenacity of an... Athenian. Go."

"Do I have your blessing?" asked Annabeth.

"You do not have my opposition," snapped Athena. "Be satisfied with that."

Annabeth turned, and left the hall of the gods, but with a slight skip in her step.

In the waiting room, she saw Percy sitting next to his father, Poseidon. Both, she noticed, were sitting awkwardly with their legs crossed and their hands protecting their laps.

Percy gulped. "Is she okay?"

She beamed at him. "She'll come around." And she drew him to her and kissed him.

#

Later, in the bathroom of the gods, Aphrodite was applying her make-up when Athena entered.

"So, how did the conversation with your little one go?" cooed the love god.

Athena glared at her reflection in the mirror. "She loves Perseus Jackson."

"Oh, goody!" said Aphrodite, clapping her hands. "I'm glad they both came 'round to it."

Athena looked at Aphrodite sidelong. "Did you have an influence?"

"In bringing them together?" She laughed. "No. That was fate. But I was sure to throw a bunch of complications in their way to help temper that love. They'll be inseparable, now, especially after what I have planned for them next year--"

She grunted and squawked as Athena jumped her and put her in a headlock. "Hey! Let go!"

"You will play no more games with my daughter's love live, or the life of her..." Here, Athena made a face, "...boyfriend, Percy."

"Oh," said Aphrodite hautily. "What are you going to do about it?"

Athena pressed Aphrodite's head forward. Aphrodite's neck let out an audible crack.

"Okay," Aphrodite squeaked. "So, that's what you're going to do about it. Look, can't we talk this over like mature gods?"

"That's what I thought we were doing," said Athena.

"Look, what's wrong with spicing up their love life with complications?" said Aphrodite. "In the end, it bonded them together more closely. They're inseparable now!"

"Unlike your neck," Athena growled.

"Okay, I'm getting mixed messages here."

Athena sighed and released Aphrodite, shoving the love god into the counter. "I don't have to agree with her choices, but I just want my daughter to be happy."

Aphrodite looked up innocently. "Isn't she happy, now?"

Athena leaned close. "If she cries, you will feel the sting of her tears. Are we clear, now?"

Aphrodite swallowed. Then she smiled brightly. "Like crystal."

"Good," said Athena. Then she smoothed down her robes, turned on her heel, and left Aphrodite by the sink.