A/N: Next chappie, y'all. I started college up again so I'll be busy but I'll do my best. Made this one longer than usual as a present for not updating faster.
Know that I love you all dearly for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following/etc. This would not be possible without your continued support, and I wish I had time to reply to everyone, but I will do it here. THANK YOU!
Disclaimer: Its Rick Riordan's, not mine.
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Chapter Eight
Little Prince
Poseidon and Amphitrite quickly learned that Percy was not just gifted with his powers over the sea—he was unbelievably powerful. He did not dare mention it in her presence, but Poseidon thought that perhaps he was the most powerful of his children ever born. He had no way of knowing if it was his constant presence in the sea that made him stronger, or if Percy had just been born with that much raw power within him waiting to be molded and controlled.
With every passing day, it looked more and more likely that Perseus Jackson was the child of prophesy.
This was taken with a grain of salt, however, because as far as anyone knew any of the children could be the one of prophesy. Poseidon thought it just as likely that Zeus' child—Tria, or whatever in Hades her name was—could be the child of prophesy. On the same note, it could just as likely be Hades' two children who were safely hidden away from Zeus at the moment.
All the same, Percy's temper tantrums were rare. When they happened they were a sight to behold, for his temper rivaled his father's and Triton's both, but all in all Percy was a very calm and laid back child. He dearly loved playing as well, especially in the game room that Poseidon had been working on for a long time.
He was also, understandably, a bit of a handful.
Percy had a knack for bringing out emotions in Poseidon that he worked hard to bury. No matter his mood, his son could make him unbelievably furious one second and have him clutching his stomach from laughter the next.
There was one emotion that he disliked Percy inspiring, and though it happened rarely, it was never pretty.
Terror.
Sheer and utter terror.
Poseidon had just finished a political audience with the dolphins and the seals and was exiting the throne room when he noticed Triton talking to two of his friends.
"Triton," he called, and his son half-turned to look at him. "Where is Percy?"
Triton frowned. "Percy?" he repeated. "He is right — "
He looked down and found that, in fact, his baby brother was not where he had been only moments ago. With a sinking feeling, he jerked his gaze up to meet his father's.
Poseidon was running before he was conscious of his actions. "Percy!" he shouted as he rounded a turn, searching frantically and aware of Triton going in the opposite direction to do the same. "Percy?" he called again, louder this time and with more desperation.
Thoughts were tumbling through his head at a rapid pace. What if my enemies got him? What if he is hurt? What if he was kidnapped? What if Zeus came down in secret and discovered him here? What if he is dead?
A moment later he found his son, but the terror did not abate. For the first time in his existence, he wondered if this was what the modern phrase "scared to death" was supposed to symbolize.
Percy was standing on chubby toddler legs in front of the hearth, tiny hands clutching at the flagstones as he grinned toothily up at Hestia.
Poseidon swallowed hard and watched as the goddess laughed and reached down to pick him up and settle him in her lap. Triton skidded to a halt behind him, looking stricken with terror at the sight before him.
"I wearning wetters," Percy was telling her cheerfully, pointing to the alphabet book he had taken to carrying around with him everywhere. It had been a gift from Amphitrite on his third birthday, which had passed over the summer.
Carthos was in the middle of teaching him the English alphabet, and so far, the three-year-old knew most of his letters. Stringing them together was out of the question, and he often drew them backwards, but he did know them. Percy had absolutely no trouble at all with the Greek alphabet, in fact, Carthos had needed to teach him very little; but then again Greek was hard-wired into all demigods so it was not too surprising.
"Learning letters," Hestia gently corrected, reaching down to trace over the colorful alphabet pictures with her nimble fingers. "Does your daddy read to you, little prince?"
Percy smiled up at her and said, "Ebry day."
Poseidon turned and motioned for Triton to leave. His son obeyed, albeit reluctantly, and vanished from sight.
"Do you love your father very much?" Hestia asked Percy.
Dark tendrils of hair bounced on Percy's head when he nodded earnestly. "Papa," he said simply and with a huge grin, finally spotting him just a few feet away. He wiggled forcefully until Hestia let him go and he slid off her lap to race over to him.
Poseidon automatically reached down and swung his boy up into his arms with a warm smile, nuzzling his small cheek. "Percy, what are the rules about running off?" he chastised, raising one dark eyebrow.
Lips immediately shifting into a pout, Percy looked down at his shoulder and traced his index finger over the patterns of Poseidon's Hawaiian shirt. "Not s'pos' to," he mumbled, squirming a little under the force of his father's gaze.
Sighing, Poseidon let it go for now and settled his gaze instead on his sister. "Hestia," he greeted her solemnly and without a smidge of wariness. She had seen Percy, she knew who he was—she could easily tell Zeus the truth.
"Your son is wonderful," Hestia said, taking him by surprise. She smoothed her hands over her thighs and tilted her head to one side to study the resemblance between father and son. "He looks just like you, brother. He is special, I can feel it."
Unsure what to say to that, Poseidon just nodded and kept Percy in one arm. The toddler was picking up on his father's solemn mood and had become solemn himself, curious sea green eyes flicking back and forth between the two immortals.
Hestia gently patted the space beside her, and before he could talk himself out of it, Poseidon strode over and sat down, settling Percy instead into his lap.
"Your son was the first demigod to see me—truly see me—in many long years, brother."
Poseidon grunted, not sure what else to do.
"There is much kindness in him," she continued dreamily, staring into the flickering hearth. "He will be a good man, brother, and a good son to you." Turning her eyes back to him, she studied him silently for a long moment. "Though, I suspect, a bit of a maverick like yourself. Somehow, I do not picture him following orders or respecting Gods just because he is told to."
Poseidon chuckled at that and winked at her.
"You adore him. Not for a lot time have I seen you this relaxed."
"Relaxed?" he repeated with a hint of mirth, arching one black eyebrow as he settled his squirming son on the ground and watched him hurry over to his block set and begin to build. "You are aware of the bashing the surface world took as a result of my temper, are you not?"
Hestia surprised him by laughing, truly laughing, as he had not seen her do in many an age. "I suppose from that perspective, you are not exactly relaxed, brother," she agreed. "Percy is good for you, for all of you. I can see the life he has breathed back into this place."
"Subtle," he remarked dryly.
She smiled.
"Hestia, about Percy—"
"Your secret is safe with me," Hestia assured him calmly, placing a hand on his arm. "Remember, Poseidon, I am the last Olympian. I am home and hearth. I will not betray you."
Poseidon placed his hand over hers and squeezed gently. "Thank you," he murmured, and with a soft smile Hestia faded away, vanishing back into the flames.
He released a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding and dropped his face into his hands.
Perseus Jackson would be the death of him.
/
Poseidon had finished up with the latest disaster—honestly, he had just fixed all of this yesterday, could it not stay fixed for one bloody day?—and had decided to peek in on Percy's schooling sessions.
Carthos assured him that Percy, who was now four, was an extremely bright child. Like all demigods, he suffered from what the modern world referred to as ADHD. In the old times, it had simply referred to hypersensitivity to one's surroundings and the corresponding skills in battle. He also suffered from something called "Dyslexia" every time he was forced to read or write something in English.
According to Carthos, this happened because Percy's brain was hard-wired for Greek and had trouble translating all other languages.
Despite this, Percy had mastered the alphabet long ago and had since moved on to reading full sentences and then small paragraphs.
He strolled through the palace at a leisurely pace, taking time to greet his subjects and enjoy the view of the sea around him. Before he knew it, he was standing outside the school room, where Percy was in the middle of his daily lessons.
Poseidon hid himself in a shadow and watched with fond curiosity to see what his son would be like in the classroom. Outside the classroom he liked to ask a million questions and was constantly begging for stories, especially before bedtime. When he had turned four, Amphitrite had decided he needed to start his formal education and had permanently invited Carthos to teach their son.
Percy needed an education, of course, otherwise he would stand out amongst his fellow demigods, but he assumed this was not the same kind of education that Percy would have received on the surface world.
That was due mostly to the fact that in the sea he was safe, where monsters wouldn't dare touch him.
Not that they would even get close to them before he sent a Cyclops army or sea monster to destroy them, of course, if he did not blast them with his trident first.
Carthos was leaning over his desk watching him write. "Good, little prince," he praised with a smile and a fond ruffling of Percy's hair.
Percy grinned up at him as Carthos moved back to some modern invention called a "white board" and started writing up on the board.
"I thought we could take a break from your letters and talk about history today," Carthos said, smiling at Percy's excited whoop. "Where would you like to start?"
"The beginning," said Percy with a cheeky grin. "Papa tells me all the time that the only reason his brovers and sisters escaped the yucky tummy of their evil father was cuz Zeus was so ugly the bad man thought he was a rock and ate everyone else but him."
Carthos snorted and quickly turned away to hide his expression. Poseidon bit back his own chuckle at the four-year-old's description of the events. "That is one way of putting it, I suppose," he said in a deadpan voice to hide his amusement. "Kronos was the leader of the Titans, you see."
"The Titans who ruled afore Zeus and Papa and Uncle Hades?"
"Before," the merman corrected. "The Titans ruled before the Olympians."
"Before," Percy repeated slowly, to test the word on his tongue. "He ruled before the Ol-ymp-i-ans," he repeated, drawing the word out slowly like Carthos had taught him so that he would say it right.
"Correct," Carthos said, drawing a quick sketch of the history on the board. "Zeus grew up outside of Kronos' tummy, on an island called Crete. He got a potion and tricked Kronos into drinking it, and then Kronos regurgitated all of Zeus' brothers and sisters."
Percy was listening with rapt attention. "What's re-gur-gidaded?" he wondered, frowning as he struggled over the unfamiliar word.
"Regurgitated." Carthos smiled and shook his head. "It means he made Kronos be sick and throw them all up."
"Like when I got sick and mama made me eat soup and I made a mess on the cook and the cook was angry but all papa could do was laugh at the face she was making so then mama got mad at him and papa had to sleep in the room next to mine?"
"Like that," Carthos agreed, struggling to keep up with the speed of the child's run-on sentence.
Percy wrinkled his little nose. "Eew," he commented with scorn only a four-year-old could manage and still be adorable.
"Indeed."
"What happened then, Carthos?"
"A war, little prince. For ten long years the Titans and the Olympians battled for control, until Zeus managed to get the Cyclopes and the Giants on his side. The Cyclopes gave him his master bolt, which lets him control lightning, and gave to your father his trident and to Hades his Helm of Darkness. The Olympians won and cast the Titans into Tartarus as punishment."
"Like when I get put on timeout?"
"Worse than that, little prince. They were imprisoned for eternity."
Percy's eyes widened. "Time out for an eternity?" he gasped. He frowned suddenly. "What's eternity?"
Carthos grinned and ruffled his hair. "A very long time," he explained.
"What then?" Percy asked eagerly, eyes shining.
"Well, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades became what we call the Big Three—the most powerful of the Olympians. Zeus took command of the sky, your father command of the sea, and Hades command of the underworld and the dead."
"How come Hades had to rule the dead? Could he have ruled the sky?"
"The Olympians voted for Zeus to be their king because he saved them from Kronos," Carthos explained. "But yes, technically, Hades could have ruled the sky. He does not. Your uncle Hades is tasked with the Underworld and bringing the souls to their proper resting places, as well as keeping a close eye on Tartarus."
"Poor Uncle Hades," sighed Percy. "What happened to the rest of the bad guys?"
"Well, the commander of the Titan army was a being called Atlas. As punishment for betraying the gods, he was tasked with the job of holding up the sky."
"The whole sky?"
"The whole sky," Carthos promised.
"By himself!?"
Carthos nodded.
Percy considered this. "He was a meanie-butt for eating papa, so he dederved it," he decided.
"He deserved it," Carthos corrected mildly.
"De-ser-ved it," Percy repeated obediently. "Carthos, how come so many words are so hard to say?" he whined.
"It will get easier," the merman promised, before steering the boy back towards learning.
Smiling softly, Poseidon melted away back to his duties, but his candid observation of his son had brightened his spirits, especially his description of one of the most evil creatures in existence, and his four-year-old son made him sound ridiculous and hardly scary at all.
Meanie-butt, indeed, if only for the fact Kronos had swallowed him whole.
Poseidon was touched by his loyalty.
/
The bright summer sun shone through the surface of the sea, casting shimmering shadows on Atlantis. Her people moved about on their daily activities with vigor, for today was the eve of the summer solstice and a very busy day for her people. This was true even in the palace, where Amphitrite was trying to get her energetic four-year-old son to be quiet and sit still long enough to eat his breakfast.
"Is papa back yet?" Percy wondered, bouncing up and down in his seat.
"No," said Amphitrite with a fond smile. "Eat your breakfast, Percy. Your father will be home as soon as he is done meeting with the mermen."
"How come I cannot go, mother?" he wondered curiously, watching as she spooned oatmeal into his bowl and added liberal sprinkles of sugar and a few raisins.
"Undersea politics, little one. They are . . . well . . ."
"Compicated?" Percy offered helpfully, smiling up at her sweetly. "Triton says so."
"Complicated," she corrected with a soft laugh, shucking him gently under the chin. "Eat your breakfast, now. No training until you do."
The half-hearted threat was enough to get the energetic boy to wolf his breakfast down like it was his last meal. As soon as he was done, he jumped down from his chair and threw his arms around her waist, burying his face in her stomach.
Amphitrite smiled and bent down to kiss the top of his head, rubbing her hands up his back. He was growing up so fast; one day he would be too big to hug her and Poseidon like this, according to the other mothers in Atlantis. She wasn't so sure. It was in Percy's nature to be sweet and loving, if stubborn and a bit obtuse at times. Hopefully Percy would never tire of giving them hugs. She could tell how much it meant to Poseidon every time his son's face lit up when he entered a room, every time he forgot propriety and raced forward to throw his arms around his neck while cheering "PAPA!" at the top of his lungs.
"I love you, mama," he said, tipping his head back to favor her with a sweet smile.
"I love you too, little prince," she whispered, pressing a tender kiss to his brow. "Run along, now. You would hate to be late for sword practice."
Percy frowned. "But Triton's not here," he said with a hint of a whine in his tone.
"I am sure you can find someone else to spar with you," Amphitrite promised, ruffling his hair. "I will send a dolphin to find you when your father gets home."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
A huge grin spread across his little face. "Okay," he chirped cheerfully. He gave her one last hug before he headed from the dining room.
Percy raced down the hallway, grinning at merpeople and sea animals alike as he hurried to the training ring. He burst outside and skipped his way down the path. Sometimes he swam but most of the time he liked to run and jump over the rocks in his path and most of the time his friend Rocco the Hippocampi would join him, racing him across the sea floor.
"Good morning, little prince," Delphin greeted him with a cheerful chirp.
"Good morning, Delphin!" Percy responded to the dolphin with a bright grin. "Your peoples, are they okay?"
"My people are quite well, thank you," the dolphin responded with a good deal of amusement at the improper grammar. "You had best run along, little prince, Carthos is awaiting you."
Wasting no time, Percy waved before racing the rest of the way to the sword training area. Carthos was already in the center of the arena testing the weight of a blade in his hand. He had greenish skin and teeth that reminded Percy of the great white sharks who liked to tell him about their journeys across the oceans. His yellow eyes shone with amusement and warmth when he turned and noticed his presence.
"Good morning, Carthos," Percy greeted his teacher respectfully and with a bow.
"Good morning to you as well, young prince," Carthos greeted him, grinning down at the boy with no small amount of affection. At first he had been honored to take the position of teaching Poseidon's half-blood child, though he had not wanted to and had accepted out of politeness only. In truth, he had not wanted to teach the young prince at all. As the boy grew, however, and it became apparent how bright he was, it almost seemed a shame that they would waste him on Camp Half-Blood.
"Can I use swords today?" Percy asked, speaking slowly and making an effort to get his pronunciations right.
"May I," the merman corrected gently.
"May I use swords today?" Percy repeated impishly.
Carthos' lips twitched with the effort of withholding his smile. "If you wish, you may. Triton is not here to spar with you, however."
That was not an issue. Percy found a partner, a young merboy near his age, and headed over to him.
"Hello," he greeted the merboy politely. "Would you like to practice swords with me?"
The boy looked at him critically. "Why do you look so funny?" he asked.
"I do not look funny!" Percy protested with a sniff of indignation. "I always look like this."
"But you are so… white. And small. And you have weird legs instead of a tail." The boy wiggled his own tail in demonstration.
Percy narrowed his eyes. "I look like my mama and my papa and my brother Triton," he informed the other boy firmly.
The boy's eyes widened. "You are Prince Perseus, son of Poseidon?"
"Percy," he corrected with a grimace. "I hate being called Perseus."
"Percy," the boy amended with a smile, holding out a tentative hand. "My name is Bill Longfin, son of Naphos of the Northern Sea."
Staring down at the outstretched hand, Percy raised an eyebrow and looked shockingly like his father. "What am I supposed to do?" he wondered curiously, holding his own hand out to copy the young merman.
"You grasp it, like this," Bill responded, reaching out to grasp Percy's forearm and give a gentle squeeze. Percy copied him with a bit of confusion, and released Bill's arm when the other boy let go of his. "It is a way of saying hello," the young merman explained patiently and with a grin.
"Oh," Percy responded with a shrug. "I mostly just see Carthos and mama and papa an' Triton, o'course, and they all just hug me. Well, mama and papa and Triton hug me. Carthos just ruffles my hair and sometimes pokes my tummy cuz I am ticklish. I see Delphin a lot too, but he has no arms just fins and a tail and he is fun to talk to and all, but he always calls me Prince or Percy or little prince or sometimes if I am in trouble, he even calls me Prince Perseus, which I always respond to, cuz I know I am in trouble when he calls me that because he knowsI hate being called that. Some people bow, too, but I don' really like it, I mean it is okay I guess, but sometimes it can get strange when I am standing up at the thrones with mama and papa and Triton and everyone bows but we have to just stand there, and papa says I will understand why they do that when I am older, 'cept I am almost five summers now and I still don' get it."
Bill blinked. "Do you always talk this much?" he wondered in typical seven-year-old intellect.
Percy nodded. "Papa says it is cuz I have ADHD, but I dunno what it stands for, I just know that when I eat sugar mama gets really angry at me acuz I get even more hyper than usual."
"My father always yells at me when I am in trouble," said Bill with a grin that flashed all of his shark teeth. "He says I must grow up to be big and strong and brave, and he will send me to Camp Fish-Blood so that I can become a mighty warrior and bring honor to my family."
"That does not sound very fun," Percy observed, tilting his head to one side. "How come you have to be a warrior? Can you be a knitter like Aphros? He made me really warm socks but the socks are too small now."
"I am going to be a warrior," Bill insisted.
Shrugging, Percy hefted his practice sword. "Wanna spar?"
With a grin, Bill responded, "Any day, son of Poseidon!"
/
It was the day before the summer solstice once again. The next day would mark the four-year anniversary of his fight with Zeus. Since then, he and his brother had talked only at the solstices. Poseidon had suddenly understood why Hades spent so much time in the Underworld — it was a far better alternative than having to look good-for-nothing-Air-for-Brains-with-a-lightning-rod-up-his-arse in the face for an extended period of time. Whenever he was in Zeus' vicinity, he had a strong and unexplainable urge to blast him with water from the Arctic Ocean and feed him to a giant squid.
Poseidon cursed his wandering thoughts and re-focused his attention on the throne room. Today, he and Amphitrite held open court for their subjects to visit and seek their council. It also served to mark the beginning of the solstice celebration.
He was listening to two mermen arguing about differing views on who owned which portion of their properties when his attention was abruptly shifted to a small form darting towards him out of his peripheral vision.
Given his inability to focus his attention for long periods of time, Percy had quickly tired of having to sit in the chair beside Triton and listen to people talk. Instead, he sought out his favorite person and moved towards him with a purpose, not noticing that the entire court had silenced to see what would happen. Many of those present had heard of the young prince, but had yet to see him in person.
Unabashed, Percy ran two steps and pushed off the tiles, arms outstretched. In what the entire court could see was a practiced motion, Poseidon caught him, swung him up, and gently lowered him to his lap, one hand returning to rest on his trident as the other rested protectively on his son's back.
"Hi, Papa," he said cheerfully, slipping his arm under Poseidon's and curling it around his back.
Poseidon's lips twitched into a smile as he returned the greeting.
Silence reigned.
"Continue," he suggested to his subjects, raising an eyebrow as if questioning why they had fallen silent. The two immediately began to argue once more and he resisted the urge to pinch his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
"Papa?" Percy whispered, staring at the two arguing mermen with wide eyes.
"What is it, little one?" Poseidon wondered, directing the majority of his attention down to his child. Concern filled him as he noticed how worried Percy was, how he instinctively pressed himself against his chest, his arm tightening around his waist and hand fisting in the fabric of his shirt.
The court had mostly fallen silent, and as such when Percy spoke, all present heard him.
"How come they don't just share, Papa?"
Triton grinned and quickly hid it behind his hand, watching as the two mermen — who had been arguing about this for over three decades now — stared at the little prince in shock. Out of the corner of his eye he watched his mother duck her head to hide her own smile and as several members of the court hid their amusement in the same fashion.
"Papa?" Percy pressed, looking between him and the mermen. "Can they share?"
"They can share, yes," he assured his son in an effort to soothe the mounting worry in his voice. The twitch at the corner of his lips gave away his amusement.
"So how come they are not sharing?" Percy pressed, squirming a little as he picked up on the tension in the room. "Papa, did I say something wrong? Am I in trouble?"
Poseidon rubbed a hand gently up and down his back. "You are not in trouble," he promised, dropping a kiss to the top of his head and offering a tender smile to soothe his son's uneasiness.
The mermen settled their dispute — by Hades, finally, he had grown tired of their bickering — and offered Percy words of praise for his young mind, but the young prince was already fast asleep in his lap with his face nuzzled into the Hawaiian print shirt.
Unsurprisingly, the two mermen did not take offense and quietly left the room with quiet apologies and with civil conversation between them for the first time in thirty years
Dropping another kiss to the crown of Percy's head, Poseidon motioned for the next subject to come forward and present their issue.
/
E/N: So, that was Percy from ages 3-4. He is almost five at the end of this.
Pardon any spelling/grammar mistakes, I decided to crank this out before bed. Feel free to point them out if you find any this one is longer than usual so it won't surprise or offend me at all.
Also, to those of you who do not work with small children/are not familiar with small children: SMALL CHILDREN ARE THE MASTERS OF RUN-ON SENTENCES. As a preschool teacher, I can attest to that. They also tend to stutter... a lot. Percy's dialogue is based off of children I work with as well as my young cousins, the youngest of whom just turned three.
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