Annabeth as Odysseus. Both too smart, too cunning, with eyes that have seen to much and dreams too big for this world.
She dreams, sometimes, of the raging sea, of bloodied fields and weary soldiers. Of the warm sun and sand of an island that feels like home. When she wakes up, the memories tug at her mind, tantalisingly out of her reach. (When storms hit the shores of the camp, she hears the roar of waves against the beach echoing in the cabin and she hides under her covers, trembling and gasping in a fear she doesn’t understand).
The first time she meets Clarisse, a new camper with wild eyes and an angry scowl she nearly calls her Achilles. (The only one to notice her hesitation is Mr D. He looks pitying for a second before retreating behind his disdainful apathy).
Percy as Penelope. Both fiercely loyal, resilient and strong. To have them as friends, as lovers, is like having a home.
Percy who flinches at smelly Gabe’s voice, who sees other men superimposed with him, stronger, taller, familiar men. He feels dread and determination rise within him. He lifts his chin. Royalty never bows to anyone. (People forget Penelope came from Sparta after all. She has smiles full of teeth and a sword in her closet).
