The moon was fate's personified swing. Ever present in the sky, it spun the tide on its fingertips. Twisting the strings of balance with those of creation.
It was Artimis' sweet gift and probing reminder that the Greeks must have as many hard ships as triumphs, as many dark hours as light. It was this everlasting paradox that united them all, with the knowledge that fate could bare it's perilous fangs as soon as it could smile.
The fates keep everything leveled, snipping away at their string even as Calypso's morale decayed into earths of her personal hell, in the misery that she created for herself until a hero came along to sweep her off her feet.
Of all the men who had washed upon her shores, her thoughts remained with the son of Poseidon; the black hair boy alone matched the heroes of her imagination.
Although her emotions may have been heightened by the lack of new material, it soon became apparent that she had an unprecedented persistence. It harped upon her day and night fully captivating her vehement dreams.
As she sat in her garden she became all the more susceptible encompassing memories. He fingers traced the moon lace, longing for any remainder of her beloved hero.
She often wondered about his desires, praying fervently that she waltzed through his dreams the way he did hers. Her eyes often traveled to the sky, blinded the illusion that their paths might cross again. The clouds looked like hands reaching to pull her into their orbit, saving her from her isolated existence.
Healing his wounds her mussels soon adapted to the idea of reasonability. She found herself tending to him all hours of the night, never wishing to leave his side. For once she was on par with the fates, holding a string of life in her very own hands unwilling to let them harm it while in her presence. The connection she felt with Percy was adjacent to the strongest of friendships, tainted only by the physical affection she coveted.
She watched the waters, waiting for a sign that he would return to her. She pictured him beside her one hand upon his precious riptide and another encircling her shoulder blade. Allowing her, at last, to bask in the kindred sprits she found. They touched, and talked, and laughed, Calypso thoughts never straying to plans of sadistic retaliation. For once she felt the joy of life in it's own entity. Life had a purpose, and she no longer desired the sour kiss of death.
But eventually as the night drew to a close, she would realize with the worst of fate's fang that she was once again alone. And yet, before the abrupt tendrils of dawn, she would catch a last glimpse of the full moon. A small comfort, perhaps, but she knew it was theirs to share.
greekmythologyluver: First off, I want to say a huge thanks to whoever is reading this. I would also like to say that I'm not a Percy/Calypso fan; this idea just popped into my head and wouldn't go away until it was written down.
WindowChild: I personally think that Percy/Calypso is cool, but there are other pairings that I like better. Thanks so much for letting me collaborate with you on this, greekmythologyluver; it was really run!
WindowChild and greekmythologyluver: Please review!