Percabeth

The fire crackled softly in the hearth as Annabeth sat in the rocking chair, cradling you against her chest. Her golden curls framed her tired but radiant face as she gazed down at you, her newborn daughter, wrapped snugly in a soft blue blanket. Percy sat cross-legged on the floor beside her, his sea-green eyes wide with awe as he reached out to gently brush a finger along your tiny hand. When your little fingers instinctively curled around his, his grin broke wide, as though he’d just won his greatest battle yet.

“She’s got your stubborn grip,” Percy murmured, his voice full of wonder. “Future sword-fighter for sure.”

Annabeth chuckled softly, her gray eyes warm. “Let’s hope she inherits some sense first,” she teased, glancing down at you with a mix of adoration and curiosity. “She’s so small, and yet…” She paused, her voice trembling just slightly. “I feel like she’s already changed everything.”

Percy leaned his head against her knee, looking up at both of you. “She has,” he said quietly. “She’s the best thing we’ve ever done.”

Annabeth smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you let out a soft coo, settling into her warmth. In that moment, it didn’t matter that the world outside was full of monsters and chaos. Here, in the quiet glow of their cabin, you were their greatest treasure—a little piece of peace they’d fought so hard to find.