Jorma

“Athena called, "Annabeth Chase, my own daughter."
Annabeth squeezed my arm, then walked forward and knelt at her mother's feet.
Athena smiled. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympus is...well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements."
Annabeth looked up, stunned. "My...my lady?"
Athena smiled wryly. "You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?"
"You mean...I can design whatever I want?"
"As your heart desires," the goddess said. "Make us a city for the ages."
"As long as you have plenty of statues of me," Apollo added.
"And me," Aphrodite agreed.
"Hey, and me!" Ares said. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and-"
All right!" Athena interrupted. "She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympus.”
― Rick Riordan, The Last Olympian

“Butch hesitated. "Annabeth's okay. You gotta cut her some slack. She had a vision telling her to come here, to find a guy with one shoe. That was supposed to be the answer to her problem."

"What Problem?" Piper asked.

"She's been looking for one of our campers, who's been missing three days," Butch said. "She's going out of her mind with worry. She hoped he'd be here."

"Who?" Jason asked.

"Her boyfriend," Butch said, "A guy named Percy Jackson.”
― Rick Riordan

“Okay," Annabeth said. "What exactly do you smell?"
"Something bad," Tyson answered.
"Great," Annabeth grumbled. "That clears it up.”
― Rick Riordan, The Sea of Monsters

“Annabeth came up to me. She was dressed in black camouflage with her Celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder—ready for stabbing or surfing the Internet, whichever came first.”
― Rick Riordan, The Last Olympian