Annabeth Chase Fights Like Batman
Annabeth is my favourite character in the riordanverse. So one of the things I really wanted to do in my fic (To Be Mortal) was to do her character justice.
My fic is canon compliant (hopefully 😅) and is starts 7 years after ToA. I tried my best to portray Annabeth, now in her mid-twenties, as the formidable leader and combatant that I envision her to be.
I'd love to hear what you guys think!
Here is an excerpt from Chapter 28:
Chiron stepped forward. “Campers,” he said, voice firm. “You all know why we’re here. Adrian Vale has volunteered to fight today, with discipline and humility. Without his armour. Without any advantage. To prove he’s willing to stand alongside you.”
Annabeth watched the crowd. Some expressions had shifted, like they were no longer seeing a threat, but simply something unknown. She felt the tension in her chest loosen. That was the best she could hope for.
And that's enough. It has to be.
The murmurs softened as Chiron continued. “This duel will be three rounds. As Adrian can neither see nor be touched by celestial bronze, only wooden sparring sticks will be used. The goal is skill and honourable combat, not injury. Victory is earned by clean knockdowns or clear advantage.”
He turned to each of them in turn. “Annabeth Chase. Adrian Vale. Begin when ready.”
Annabeth turned the stick in her hand, letting herself feel its weight. Across the sand, Adrian reached for his.
The match was about to start.
The moment Chiron stepped back, the arena resumed its buzz with newfound anticipation.
Adrian moved first, with posture. Annabeth watched as he lowered his head, one foot angled slightly behind, hand firm on the sparring stick. She recognised the shape of his stance immediately: A Greek form.
The weight distribution was correct and the footwork precise. He had studied their traditions, their war forms. The stance wasn't perfect, but it was earnest. Reverent, even. That earned him immediate credit in her book.
Annabeth understood the message he was trying to send. He wasn’t trying to show off. He was trying to belong.
They circled once, then closed. The first clash was clean. A swift strike from him. She blocked, countered. He adjusted. Then again. Strike, parry, retreat. Tight arcs, no wasted motion. Almost kata-like. It was decent. For a human, it was more than decent.
Annabeth matched him evenly. She didn't need to (she could have overpowered him by now) but he had earned her precision. This duel was a test and the answer wasn’t in victory, but in how he carried himself. The crowd needed to see that.
And they did. Around the arena, the mood had slowly begun to shift. She heard the murmurs ripple through the crowd. Surprise. Reassessment. He wasn’t merely mimicking. He knew how to fight, even outside the armour. And that realisation, that a mortal man could learn their forms, stand in their arena and hold his own... that did something.
They clashed again. This time, Annabeth dialled up the speed and pressure of her attacks. Let's see if your defence holds up.
And it did, though just barely. Suddenly, Adrian dashed backwards, creating some space between them. He made use of the bought moment to immediately shift his stance. He adjusted his grip on the stick and angled it such it was pointing downwards at a perfect forty-five degree angle.
Annabeth read the change instantly. No longer a Greek stance... Japanese. Gedan-no-kamae. A Kenjutsuposture prioritising defence.
Interesting, she thought, adjusting her strategy. He didn’t just learn from books. He can adapt on the spot. Annabeth pressed on with her attack, making sure to protect her legs from opportunistic low strikes. She had every intention to probe his ranges, see how deep this went.
His defence held up much better in this new position, but his counterattacks weren’t fast enough to pressure her. And his form? It was still predictable, but what surprised Annabeth was that he was aware of it. He was compensating by trying to make his timing unpredictable. Delay-feint-delay. Pauses between strikes that invited misreads. Baiting patterns and irregular rhythms. It was more intellectual than instinctive. She recognised the scaffolding underneath it and she approved of the approach. Even if his body couldn’t always keep pace with his mind.
She checked the crowd again. They were watching closely. The noise level had increased, but no one was laughing now.
Time to end it. A pivot and a shift in weight. Adrian overextended just slightly, just enough. Annabeth stepped inside the arc. One smooth motion: Sweep the leg, drive the stick forward.
Adrian hit the sand hard. Her sparring stick pressed firmly to his sternum.
Annabeth straightened, letting the stick hang at her side. She studied Adrian as he caught his breath on the ground before slowly sitting up.
She reviewed the fight in her mind. Adrian had studied their traditions. That mattered. He was practical and his style mirrored his restraint. His technique was incomplete, but his discipline was clear. He knew he couldn't beat her, yet he was still trying to honour the fight. She saw that and she hoped the crowd did too.
The crowd erupted with loud cheers and a few whoops... but it didn’t feel like admiration. They were celebrating his defeat.
Annabeth’s brow tightened. They still saw him as the outsider. The enemy.
Well, there were still two more rounds. She wasn’t done yet.
No announcements needed this time; the crowd already knew the drill.
Adrian stepped forward as soon as Chiron gave the signal. This time he took a more aggressive approach.
Annabeth caught the change mid-motion. The articulation of the wrist, the way the strikes flowed between offence and defence. Compression of angles. Short arcs. Violent efficiency. It was a strategic blend.
Eskrima. Filipino. He was stringing combinations, prioritising flow over rigidity. Proper sinawali drills, repurposed for combat. It was a significant shift from his earlier approach.
He was continuing to iterate. Not bad, she thought, raising her guard. He hadn’t plateaued after round one. He was adapting, trying again.
They exchanged a volley of blows. Quick strikes, tight parries. The tempo had increased, the rhythm sharper. Annabeth moved with ease, pivoting, controlling the spacing, reading the breaks before they formed.
Adrian’s strikes were intelligent and controlled… but still, his problem remained. He was simply not fast enough to pressure a child of Athena who had sparred since childhood. His mind was sharp, his hands disciplined, but he was human. The physics simply didn’t match.
Annabeth pivoted around his next attempt, stepping wide and flicking a glance at the crowd. Nothing. Some campers were watching with mild interest. Others looked... bored. Chatting amongst themselves. A few exchanged smirks like they already knew the outcome. They weren’t moved. They weren’t convinced.
She tightened her grip on the sparring stick. Read the battlefield, Annabeth.
And the battlefield in question wasn’t sand and stone. It was public perception.
He’s good, she realised. But that’s not enough. They needed something else: A moment, a reframe, something that turned Adrian from punching bag to participant.
Annabeth made a decision. On the next exchange, she widened her guard by exactly two inches. Small enough to look like a lapse rather than a gift. Her parry deliberately came half a beat slower. Subtle, but something she knew a mind like Adrian's would catch.
And he did. She could tell by the way his weight shifted without hesitation. He stepped in, twisted his wrist and executed a clean flick-and-pull.
Her stick flew from her grip. The crowd gasped audibly. A few even stood up. Internally, Annabeth smiled. Good. That was exactly the kind of reaction she’d been hoping for.
Adrian paused, just for a breath, and they locked eyes. She could tell: he knew. The crowd might have missed it, but he had read the opening for what it was.
She gave a single nod. Continue.
He attacked. She moved with fluid evasion; graceful and unhurried. She let him press forward for a few more beats, then closed the distance.
A pivot. A shift. In one decisive motion, she took his stick from him.
Annabeth tossed his stick to the ground. The message was clear: They would continue hand-to-hand.
The crowd roared louder now. Adrian struck first. Sharp elbows, fast disengages, eyes scanning for targets. She recognised the rhythm instantly: Krav Maga. A good, practical choice.
But then she saw the layering. Clinch control, underhooks, subtle balance shifts: Wrestling. Occasional sweeps and feints: Judo. High guard, foot pivots: Boxing.
He fights like he cobbled together his own style, she thought. That’s admirable.
Annabeth shifted her stance in response. But mine was forged from a lifetime of surviving monsters.
Her style of choice was Pankration-inspired. Ancient Greek MMA. Brutal, flexible. Symbolic, too. She fought in the style of the ancients, the way their heroes once did.
Adrian pressed forward. He was skilled, but Annabeth had divine muscle memory. She moved before his form was finished.
He struck. She redirected it, using his own momentum against him. Adrian hit the ground again.
Annabeth stepped back and let the moment hang. Now came the real read. She scanned the crowd: A thoughtful silence, or at least as close as one could get to silence in an area packed with restless teenagers. There was no cheering or mockery. A few campers looked... conflicted.
Excellent, she thought. That’s how change begins.
Time to bring it home with the final round.
Continue reading To Be Mortal on AO3!
To Be Mortal is set 7 years after the end of The Trials of Apollo. It reintroduces us to the PJO world and our favourite characters (like Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase), who are all older and more mature now.
We see how they react when they meet OCs Narina Lin and Adrian Vale, who both raise questions they’ve never encountered before!
The story explores the clash/intersection between Science and Mythology, as well as the growing tensions between gods, demigods and humans!
30 chapter story with 3 Acts. New chapter every Thursday.
The first Act is a mystery arc, the second is a romantic arc (with STEM-romance flavour) and the third and final act ties it all together (and is the most action-packed!).