Chapter 2
10 years ago – June 14, 1982
Poseidon reclined lazily on his throne, one leg casually thrown over the armrest as his fingers casually turned the thin pages of 'The Adventures of Tom Bombadil'. The crackle of pages turning was the only sound in the throne room – aside from the faint breaths of Zeus, who sat dozing on his throne, his head resting comfortably against the back, his eyes shut. Although his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, Zeus was still very much attuned to every shift in the room.
A quiet click sounded from the great bronze gates at the entrance of the throne room, the soft creak of the hinges breaking the otherwise silent atmosphere. Zeus' eyes narrowed immediately as they locked onto the source of the disturbance. Three figures stood near the entrance shrouded in a mist – the three Morai, the fates. Poseidon straightened slightly, closing his book as it dissolved into mist, his back straightening as he observed them. All three looked like old women, their bodies frail and grotesque – each wearing a cloak that rippled like the shadows around them.
"You are unwelcome," Zeus' voice rumbled through the throne room, a hint of irritation slipping through his words as he watched the sisters approach him. They walked in an eerie synchrony and came to a stop together.
"We come bearing news," they intoned, voices blending.
"And what news would that be?" Zeus leaned back on his throne, scrutinizing them.
The Morai's heads tilted in unison, and their hands extended, bony and withered, pointing directly at Poseidon. "Your fate draws near," they said, their voices echoing through the room.
Poseidon's brow furrowed, unease crossing face – his hand clenching subtly on the armrest of his throne. Zeus swiftly rose to his feet, his gaze shifting from the Morai to Poseidon, then back to the sisters. His eyes sharpened, glinting with dangerous light. The air in the room thickened, heavy with the hum of his rising power as he glared at the three sisters.
The Morai remained still, unperturbed by Zeus' reaction, at least until his Master Bolt appeared in his hand, and the air became charged with his entire might. The three sisters faltered, their stoic façade slipping as they fell to their knees, the force of Zeus' fury pressing down on them from all sides like an invisible weight.
"Oh?" Zeus' voice was dangerously soft, his grip on the Master Bolt tightening. "And what fate is Poseidon drawing near, daughters?"
Clotho, the youngest of the three – and the spinner of fate, broke the silence with a shaky intake of breath. Her earlier composure was gone, replaced by naught but fear. "If you let us explain, Lord…" Her voice wavered as she glanced nervously at her sisters, seeking strength, though they, too, showed signs of strain.
Zeus' eyes narrowed, and the pressure in the room intensified. Clotho's shoulders stiffened, her breathing becoming shallow as she grappled with the crushing force surrounding her. Poseidon's frown deepened as he observed her struggle. "Choose your words carefully, child." Clotho shivered, her fingers clenching the fabric of her robes as she forced herself to continue.
"We come to warn," she managed, her voice tight, her every word measured. "Poseidon stands at a crucial point in his life… a crux."
Zeus' gaze remained fixed on her, unrelenting, and the pressure around her increased, forcing her to pause. She seemed to struggle, her lips pressed together in a firm line. As she faltered, the throne room shifted. A faint rumbling shook the ground beneath them, and a shadow fell over the gleaming marble. Slowly, a hole began to form in the floor, black as night, seeming to devour the light around it. From its depths, a skeletal hand emerged, clutching at the edge of the opening, followed by a gaunt figure draped in shadow. She crawled forward, her form shrouded in the darkness that clung to her like mist. Her face was nothing more than bone, hollow eyes staring into the souls of all present as she rose, tall and silent.
The Morai fell to their knees, prostrating low until their foreheads nearly touched the ground. "Our Grand Master," they said reverently, voices trembling.
Zeus took a slow breath, letting the Master Bolt dissolve into thin air as he acknowledged her presence with a slight nod. There was no fear in his stance, only respect. "Ananke." Zeus greeted her calmly, eyes gleaming.
Poseidon lowered himself to one knee, bowing his head in deference. "I greet the High Lady Ananke," he murmured.
Ananke regarded them both with an unreadable expression, her hollow eyes reflecting nothing. She turned her gaze to the Morai, who remained prostrated before her, their heads bowed low. "I shall take it from here, little ones," she said, her voice low. With a wave of her hand, flesh began to knit over her skeletal body. Bones gave way to sinew, veins, muscle and skin. Her eyes were now very much human, gleaming with brown light as she looked at Zeus and Poseidon. The shadows around her grew lighter, twisting and morphing as they seamlessly contoured around her body into a flowing dress. She was beautiful. Stunningly so.
With a soft snap of her fingers, the Morai vanished, swept away by the same dark portal she had emerged from. The shadows curled back into the hole in the floor, sealing it shut until the marble was as smooth as if it had never been disturbed.
The second the hole closed, Poseidon stood back up and dropped back onto his throne with a casual plop, body relaxing into the seat. He absentmindedly traced the outline of the armrest as he glanced at Zeus, who still stood, looking at Ananke.
Zeus extended his hand, an invisible pull bringing Ananke toward him. Her expression softened as his arm wrapped around her waist.
Ananke coughed lightly, a faint blush dusting her cheeks as she turned her gaze aside. "Not like that today, Zeus," she murmured, attempting to reprimand him – but her tone was far too soft to be acknowledged. Her eyes darted quickly to Poseidon, and her blush deepened.
Poseidon caught her glance and, feeling his own embarrassment creep up, quickly averted his gaze. He cleared his throat, attempting to focus his attention elsewhere in the throne room, but his father's smirk was impossible to ignore.
"Oh?" Zeus asked, feigning innocence as he looked down at Ananke with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "So, I'm forbidden from being affectionate with my favourite wife?" he teased, the words laced with humour.
Ananke's lips twitched, fighting the tug of a smile. "Of course you can," she corrected, her tone light, but her gaze dropped as she hesitated. "But… this is hardly the time and place," she added with a soft sigh, as if she knew she wouldn't win this particular battle with him. Zeus shrugged, nodding nonchalantly, but his hand remained firmly on her waist as he leaned back, tugging her down onto his lap as he settled onto his throne.
With a contented grunt, Zeus relaxed, wrapping both arms around Ananke in a casual yet possessive hold that deepened her blush. She tried to maintain her composure, mentally repeating a reminder: You're a primordial, you're a primordial. It certainly didn't help that Zeus was as infuriatingly handsome as ever, his rugged charm enhanced by his sharp chin – and the glint in his stormy blue eyes. He looked… dreamy, she had to admit, a thought that only made her cheeks warm further. Gathering her composure, she blinked and, with a subtle exhale, wriggled free from his grasp. Standing, she quickly put some distance between them, resting a fist against her mouth as she cleared her throat.
Zeus chuckled, watching her reaction with a knowing look, but he didn't stop her. He simply leaned back further, hands resting loosely on the armrests of his throne.
"I'm here to tell you Poseidon's fate," she said, tone regaining its usual firmness. "Or at least where he will find his fate." Her eyes shifted back to Zeus, eyes glinting.
Zeus raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And what is this fate of his?"
Ananke met his gaze, holding it for a brief second. Zeus blinked, and a slow grin spread across his lips as he glanced back at Poseidon. Poseidon, who had been following their exchange with an expression that teetered between confusion and mild annoyance, raised an eyebrow in return.
Secret conversations again? he thought, exasperated. It was hard enough trying to understand whatever cryptic message the Morai had brought; now his parents – if he could call them that – were having thought conversations without filling him in – especially considering it concerned him.
"I see," Zeus finally murmured, as he looked back at Ananke.
Poseidon crossed his arms, frowning as he waited for one of them to clue him in. "And where, exactly," Zeus asked Ananke, "will we find this fate of his?"
Ananke's eyes flicked to Poseidon, her expression contemplative. "The United Kingdom," she said. Her gaze shifted back to Zeus. "You must go with him."
Poseidon's brow furrowed further, the confusion etched on his face deepening. "My apologies, but… what is my fate?" he asked, his patience and composure thinning.
Ananke's lips curved into a smile. "You'll find out in due time." She replied.
Poseidon's mouth opened, then closed, his mind whirling with questions. Alright, sure, he thought, somewhat resigned. A random fate with no explanation. Fantastic. Nothing to worry about there.
Zeus broke the silence, turning his attention back to Ananke. "You will come too," he said simply, his tone casual, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Ananke shook her head, a slight frown appearing on her face. "I have other work to attend-" she began, though Zeus cut her off before she could finish.
"I didn't offer you a suggestion." His voice was full of amusement, his eyebrow quirking up as he watched her with a small smile. Ananke looked away, her cheeks flushing as she avoided his gaze.
She fiddled with a loose strand of hair, twirling it between her fingers as she looked at the floor, her voice dropping. "I could… probably move some of my appointments around. Maybe… make some time," she said slowly, trying – and failing – to hide the blush that crept up her cheeks.
Poseidon rolled his eyes, barely restraining his exasperation. This is ridiculous, he thought, struggling to maintain his composure. Zeus was the closest thing he had to a father – was his father – one he deeply respected – and Anankewas the only maternal figure in his life, given that Rhea was content in ignoring his existence – so as far as he was concerned, Ananke was his mother. And watching the two of them act like this… it was unsettling.
It didn't help that he was stuck here, in the room, witnessing their affectionate back-and-forth. And they wonder why I don't spend much time around them, he mused, suppressing a sigh.
"Very good," Zeus replied to Ananke, a touch of satisfaction in his tone. "We'll make a trip out of it then." He glanced at Poseidon. Poseidon nodded, hoping the conversation would end soon before Zeus and Ananke found another way to make this entire experience even more uncomfortable.
Four Weeks Later: July 12, 1982
The modest suburban street was quiet, the sun casting a warm glow over the rows of houses nestled among blooming hedges and trimmed lawns, and a trio stood on the edge of the driveway of one such house. Zeus stood tall, wearing a simple black blazer over a white t-shirt, pared with black jeans. His hair was slicked back and his beard neatly trimmed, which gave him a polished look. Beside him, Ananke looked up at the little house with a soft smile, her brown hair tied back in a neat braid that reached halfway down her back. She wore a loose gray tank top and jean shorts, her gaze light as she looked at the house before them.
Behind them trailed Poseidon, with the appearance of a ten-year-old child with neatly combed black hair, and a look of sheer dismay etched on his face. He wore a plain white t-shirt under a pair of denim overalls, his face sullen as he trudged along, kicking at loose pebbles on the street. He was the quintessential 80's child.
"Why do I need to look like a child?" he squeaked in a voice that dripped with frustration, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at his parents.
Zeus snorted, barely managing to stifle a chuckle, and Ananke swatted his arm playfully, looking over at Poseidon, who stood with his hands on his hips, pouting.
"Oh, hush. You're a very cute child," Ananke cooed, her voice teasing as she took in his indignant expression. Poseidon grumbled in response, his cheeks flushing as he looked away.
"Cute isn't what I'm going for, Mom," he retorted, scowling at her. "I'm over five thousand years old. I'm a fully grown man." His tiny body and childish voice completely diminished the effect he tried to portray.
Ananke raised an eyebrow, smirking as she shot him a pointed look. "And yet, in your 'fully grown man' form, you perpetually look like a seventeen-year-old boy," she countered, her tone teasing.
Poseidon's cheeks flushed, and he looked away, muttering under his breath. "That's my preferred form," he protested, though he was hardly convincing. He knew all too well that his form wasn't by choice – it was simply how he'd always appeared and, frankly, how he felt inside. In truth, it was far more accurate to say that his mental age barely exceeded that of the young form he now wore, a fact his family was keenly aware of and seemed to find endlessly amusing.
Zeus grinned, reaching over to ruffle Poseidon's hair, which made him duck and scowl even further. "Come now," Zeus said, his voice light, still grinning as he tried to soothe his son's irritation. "Take this as an opportunity to relax."
Poseidon shot him a glare, his young features scrunched up in frustration. "Relax? How am I supposed to relax as a child?" he demanded, kicking at another pebble. "What do I even do? And, more importantly, how am I supposed to find my fate as a child of all things?"
But his questions fell on deaf ears as Zeus and Ananke continued their way towards the house, paying little mind to his protests. Poseidon's shoulders slumped, and he let out a defeated sigh as he trailed behind, muttering about "stupid fate" and "stupid tasks." As they reached the doorstep, the door creaked open seemingly on its own.
Ananke, catching his grumbling thoughts, turned to him with a mischievous glint in her eye. She stepped closer, slipping her arm through his smaller one, her expression softening as she bent down to his level. "Come now, sweetie," she said, her voice gentle yet teasing. "Trust me – you'll like what's in store for you."
Poseidon cast her a skeptical look, his lips pressed into a tight line. "Okay, okay," he mumbled, finally relenting as she led him inside. But as he glanced around, he couldn't hide his exasperation. "I just don't get how I'll find my fate here in England – let alone in some random borough in Surrey." Ananke chuckled as she looked at him with a twinkle of amusement. "How long are we even supposed to be here for?" he added, looking between the two adults.
"Oh, not long," she hummed, her gaze sweeping around the room as though seeing something far beyond the present moment. "Maybe… eleven, twelve years?"
Poseidon's jaw dropped, and he blinked in disbelief, his eyebrows shooting up as he stared at her. "Eleven to twelve years? That's long!" he protested, his voice rising in pitch as the enormity of it sank in.
Ananke raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she regarded him. "Oh, relax," she replied smoothly, "You're immortal, remember?"
Zeus couldn't suppress a smirk as he watched the exchange, his gaze lingering on Ananke with a look of fondness. A few years spent away from Olympus, a temporary escape from the duties and politics that came with it – it sounded like an unexpectedly pleasant change. And for Poseidon? Perhaps it was just the lesson he needed.
Poseidon, however, was anything but pleased. He let out a dramatic sigh, slumping his shoulders as he resigned himself to this apparent exile in a land that felt as mundane as any he'd ever been in. Eleven to twelve years of "finding his fate" in this quiet neighbourhood? The idea felt ludicrous.
Two Years Later: July 22, 1984
Poseidon stood in the middle of a quiet park, surrounded by trees that swayed in the gentle breeze, their leaves casting shadows on the grass below. He was silent and tense as he stared at the sight before him, eyes wide with dismay. His mother, Ananke, stood beside him, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips as she observed his reaction.
"Mom, you… you cannot be serious," Poseidon squeaked, his voice high and exasperated. His gaze flicked back to the small figure in front of him – a little girl with vivid red hair, crouched in the sandpit, diligently shaping a mound of sand with her tiny hands. She worked quietly, entirely unaware of the two figures watching her.
Ananke turned her head to him, a knowing glint in her eye as her smile widened. "Very," she replied, her tone light.
Poseidon swerved his head back to her, incredulity etched into his young face. "Must I remind you – just in case it slipped your mind – that even though I look like a child, I am over five thousand years old?" He crossed his arms, huffing in frustration. His voice cracked slightly (potentially due to puberty), betraying his unease.
Ananke chuckled softly, tilting her head as she looked at him thoughtfully. "Nothing about you," she said teasingly, "screams 'knowledgeable old man' or 'sage' – or anyone who's five thousand years old, for that matter." She reached up, fussing with the collar of his shirt, straightening it with a motherly precision. "Besides," she added, "you're technically around two thousand."
Poseidon's shoulders slumped, his face falling into a resigned frown as he looked back at the girl in the sandpit. She was absorbed in her task, her small hands patting down clumps of sand to form the base of what looked like a sandcastle.
"You can't honestly expect that I'll…" he began, but his voice trailed off, struggling to find the words. He gestured helplessly toward the little girl. "Be anything to her, do you?" he asked, exasperation lacing his voice. "She looks like a light breeze could knock her over!"
Ananke didn't respond right away. She simply watched him, her smile softening as she saw the hesitation and reluctant curiosity in his eyes. "Why don't you go play with her?" she suggested gently, giving him a nudge forward.
Poseidon shot her a deadpan stare, unimpressed by the idea. "I'd rather not," he said flatly, his tone resolute.
Ananke raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady. "Fate calls," she murmured, a playful hint to her voice that made Poseidon scowl.
"And I don't want to answer," he replied, his stubbornness clear. Yet there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes as he glanced back at the little girl, a curiosity he couldn't quite shake.
Ananke laughed softly, reaching over to pull him into a brief, affectionate hug. "It'll be fine, you'll like it," she encouraged reassuringly, gently pushing him forward. He sighed, feeling the gentle pressure of her hands as she nudged him toward the sandpit.
Taking a deep breath, Poseidon squared his shoulders and slowly walked over to where the girl sat, her red hair glinting in the sunlight. The crunch of gravel under his shoes felt unnaturally loud in his ears, and he slowed his steps, his heart beating a little faster with each one. As he neared the edge of the sandpit, the girl looked up, her green eyes meeting his with a calm, piercing gaze that startled him.
Those eyes – they were bright, clear, and yet… there was a depth to them, a tiredness that was unmistakable. Poseidon's brow furrowed slightly at the intensity of her gaze. No child should have eyes like that, he thought, a faint concern rising within him. Children were supposed to be carefree, filled with boundless energy and laughter, not weighed down by a fatigue that seemed to linger in the depths of their gaze.
"Hello," he said softly, offering a tentative smile as he crouched down at the edge of the sandpit, his tone gentle.
The girl watched him for a moment, her gaze steady, before responding in a plain voice. "Hi." She continued patting the sand into shape, her focus never wavering. After a brief pause, she tilted her head, studying him with a curiosity that seemed to mirror his own. "Who're you?" she asked, her tone neither cautious nor excited – just… neutral.
Poseidon cleared his throat, feeling an unexpected awkwardness settle over him as he fumbled for a response. "I'm Peter," he said finally, the name slipping easily from his lips. "I live over at number thirteen." He nodded in the vague direction of their house, as though that would clarify things. "I noticed you were playing alone in the sandpit," he added, his voice softening, "and I thought you could use the company."
The little girl glanced down at her sandcastle, her expression thoughtful as she considered his words. She took her time, her fingers tracing the lines in the sand as she absorbed his offer. Finally, she gave a short, curt nod, as though coming to a decision. "That would be most acceptable," she said, her words precise and almost formal. She extended a small hand toward him, her gaze calm and steady as she introduced herself. "I'm Ariel Potter. I live at number four."
For a moment, Poseidon simply looked at her outstretched hand, being caught off guard, but he quickly recovered and reached out to shake her hand gently.
"Nice to meet you, Ariel," he repliedsoftly.
Finally, she withdrew her hand, offering a faint smile.
"Nice to meet you too, Peter."
Five Years Later: July 1st, 1989
Poseidon yawned as he descended the narrow staircase, rubbing a hand through his messy hair and squinting as he made his way into the warm kitchen. The morning sun peeked through the window, casting a soft glow over the room. The scent of eggs and freshly brewed tea filled the air, comforting in its familiarity. He caught sight of his mother standing at the stove, gracefully moving a spatula in one hand as she tended to breakfast.
"Morning," he greeted, his voice still rough from sleep as he padded across the kitchen, reaching for a cup to pour himself some tea.
Ananke turned, smiling at him warmly. She was dressed in deep black robes that seemed to absorb the light around her, and the heavy tome of her power rested at her side, tucked into a leather strap around her waist. Her face was as gentle and familiar as ever, yet the rest of her body was purely skeletal, gleaming softly under the morning light.
"Morning, dear," she replied, her voice soft and affectionate as she set down a plate of toast.
Poseidon raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to the tome at her side. "Work?" he asked, though he felt he already knew the answer.
Ananke nodded, a hint of weariness in her eyes. "Primordial meeting, per orders of Chaos himself," she replied with a faint sigh. "Unfortunately, I'll be gone for a while, and I have no idea how long it'll last."
Poseidon's brow furrowed, a flicker of worry crossing his face. "Oh." He knew well that Primordial meetings were unlike any Olympian council – while the Olympians might bicker for hours over petty disagreements, Primordials operated outside of time and space. These meetings could last seconds or months, depending on the matters at hand, and they almost always took place off-world.
Noticing his concern, Ananke placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, though," she added, her tone warm as she gently squeezed him. "Your dad will still be visiting often. Though, he's swamped with work too," she said, a small smile on her lips.
Poseidon nodded, understanding the situation all too well. He, too, was tied up with the responsibilities of mortality. As he was temporarily stripped of his divine powers, Zeus took charge of Olympus and Atlantis in his absence. It wasn't ideal, but he trusted his father to handle it – especially considering he'd done it before.
After breakfast, Ananke set down her plate, reaching out to pull him into a tight hug. She held him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead with a smile. "Best of luck today!" she said, her eyes gleaming playfully.
Poseidon blinked, looking slightly puzzled. "What's happening today?" he asked, a bit thrown off by how she'd said it.
Ananke simply grinned, the warmth in her face shifting as her eyes began to glow, her skin dissolving until her face became skeletal. "You'll see," she replied cryptically. She raised her hands, and the wall beside them began to crack open, shadows spilling forth as a portal formed, its edges shimmering with the darkness of the void. "I'll try to be back by next week!" she called out as she stepped into the portal.
"Good luck," he said, watching as she vanished. Her hand shot back out of the portal a moment laterwith a thumbs-up before the shadows closed around it.
Poseidon shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips as he stood up and stretched. As he entered the living room, his thoughtslingered on his mother's cryptic farewell, wondering what she could have meant.
A sudden, soft knock on the front door pulled him from his thoughts. He paused, glancing toward the door with a mix of curiosity and mild surprise. They rarely had visitors at this time of the day, and he certainly wasn't expecting anyone. His brows furrowed slightly as he walked over, twisting the handle to pull it open.
Standing on the doorstep was a young girl, her vibrant red hair tied back loosely. She looked up at him with a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was Ariel – practically his only best friend. Now fifteen, she had grown in both height and presence, her features sharp and mature, though her eyes retained the same intensity he remembered from years ago. She was also exceedingly pretty, if hewould say so himself.
"Hey, Ellie," he greeted warmly as he stepped back to let her in.
She hesitated, shifting her weight slightly before meeting his gaze with that same sad smile. "Hi, Pete," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can I come in?"
Poseidon's smile faded, a subtle frown creasing his forehead as he noted her expression. "Of course," he said, his tone gentle as he opened the door wider. "Come on in."
He led her into the living room, watching her take in the familiar surroundings with a slightnostalgia. As she moved toward the couch, she glanced around, her gaze drifting to the empty kitchen where Ananke had been earlier.
"Where's your mom?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.
Poseidon settled onto the arm of the couch, resting his hands on his knees. "She's gone to work," he replied simply.
Ariel nodded, looking down at her hands as she twisted her fingers together, an uncharacteristic nervousness apparent in her movements. She hesitated, shifting slightly as though searching for the right words, and scratched her arm absently.
"Everything okay?" Poseidon asked, his tone softening as he observed her, his concern growing with each passing second.
Ariel blinked rapidly, her eyes darting around the room as she bit her lip, visibly grappling with whatever was on her mind. Her gaze returned to him, and before he could react, she reached out, her fingers grasping the collar of his shirt as she tugged him down toward her.
Poseidon's eyes widened in surprise, the world around him fading into the background as she closed the distance between them, her lips pressing softly against his in a kiss that was as unexpected as it was tender.
September 2nd, 1991
As Zeke left the house, Ariel sprawled over the sofa, her eyes fixed on the fan. She let her mind wander, her thoughts drifting as she listened to its soft beat. She barely registered the soft creak of the floorboards as Peter stood up, and then he gently climbed over her, his body settling atop of hers, his arms bracing him on either side. His breath was shallow against her face, and he looked at her with such intensity that made her heart flutter.
Normally, she would have laughed and playfully pushed him away, teasing him with some lighthearted remark, but this was different. Something was in the air, and she didn't need to say anything. She let him stay close, her heart pounding as she felt the warmth of his skin, the gentle pressure of his forehead resting against hers.
Slowly, she closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the moment, into his warmth. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a gentle, lingering kiss that spoke of their unspoken words. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as she lost herself in the softness of his touch.
"Ready?" he whispered, his voice barely audible, his breath warm against her ear.
"Yes…" she replied, her voice husky with anticipation, barely a breath as she looked up at him through her lashes. Her heart raced as his fingers found the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly, his hands warm and steady against her. She felt a shiver run through her as he pressed closer, her breath catching as she melted into him – his lips trailing down her neck.
The outside world faded away entirely.
6 Years Later: August 19, 1997
Ariel groaned softly as she opened her eyes, blinking against the morning light that filtered through the bedroom curtains. The oppressive heat of the late summer clung to her skin, beads of sweat collecting at her temple and dampening her hair. Britain was in the midst of an unrelenting heatwave, and the morning air felt thick and heavy.
She shifted slightly, feeling the comforting weight of Peter's arm draped over her. Their son, Percy, lay nestled against her chest, his tiny fingers curled around the fabric of her tank top, a small trickle of drool dampening the fabric where his head rested. She couldn't help but smile as she looked down at him, her heart swelling with a fierce, overwhelming love.
He was five now – five whole years had passed since he had come into their lives, and with each day, he grew increasingly endearing, his bright, curious eyes constantly seeking out new wonders in the world. To Ariel, he was the most beautiful child in existence, an adorable little bundle of energy and laughter who had completely stolen her heart. No other baby could compare, not Teddy, not little Victoire – they were precious in their own right, but Percy was her world. Her son, her joy, her everything.
Careful not to disturb Peter, she shifted slightly, using a bit of wandless magic to cool the room. The air immediately felt lighter, a gentle breeze stirring as it swept away the lingering heat. Peter's arm was draped loosely over her waist, his body pressed close to hers in a protective embrace. He had come home late the night before after a long day at work, and she could tell by his slow and steady breathing that he was still deep in sleep – he had more than earned a few extra hours of sleep. He mumbled something in his sleep, his hand twitching as he muttered about "angry fishes" and "splashing water." She stifled a giggle, watching as he shifted on the bed, his brow furrowing in a frown before he settled back into a more peaceful slumber.
With a gentle touch, she smoothed down Percy's dark curls, her fingers lingering as she took in his sleeping face. His cheeks were still round and soft, his lashes long and dark against his skin, and his little mouth slightly open as he breathed in deep, contented breaths. The sight filled her with warmth, a sense of peace that wrapped around her like a soft blanket.
Slowly, she slid out from under Peter's arm, careful not to jostle him, and cradled Percy in her arms as she moved to stand. A flick of her wrist, and her hair straightened itself, tying itself loosely into a ponytail as her tank top lengthened, covering her belly, and her shorts shifted into a comfortable skirt that brushed against her knees. Percy stirred slightly, his arms wrapping tighter around her neck as he blinked sleepily up at her.
"Hey, baby," she whispered, her voice soft and soothing as she brushed a stray curl from his forehead. "You awake?"
Percy blinked, his groggy green eyes focusing on her face as he let out a small, sleepy yawn. "Good morning, Mama," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as he snuggled into her shoulder, his arms tightening around her.
Ariel's heart melted as she pressed a gentle kiss to his head, breathing in the familiar scent of him. "Good morning, my little man," she murmured, her voice filled with love as she stroked his back. She could hardly believe how fast he was growing – every day, he seemed to learn something new, his little mind constantly absorbing everything around him. Just yesterday, they had celebrated his fifth birthday, and now he was growing up as fast as ever.
She felt a pang of nostalgia as she looked down at him, remembering the tiny baby he had once been, how he used to curl his little fingers around her thumb, his innocent giggles filling the air. It felt like just yesterday that he had taken his first steps, his chubby legs wobbling as he stumbled forward with a look of pure determination. She could still remember the thrill in his eyes when he spoke his first word – "Mama" in that sweet, high-pitched voice, his gaze filled with a love so pure it made her heart ache.
She carried Percy out of the room, her steps quiet as she went downstairs. He nestled against her, his little arms wrapped around her neck as he gazed up at her with sleepy eyes and a small smile on his lips.
"Do you want to eat French toast, sweetie?" she asked, her voice warm as she smoothed a hand over his curls.
Percy's eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly, his head still resting against her shoulder. "Yes, please, Mama," he replied, his filled with excitement.
Ariel chuckled, pressing another kiss to his forehead. "Alright then, let's get started," she said, carrying him into the kitchen. Setting him down in a chair, she moved to the counter, gathering the ingredients she needed as she glared at him over her shoulder.
After making the toast, she set it on a plate before him, a spoon of whipped cream and a handful of fresh strawberries arranged on top.
"Here you go, my love," she said, setting the plate down with a flourish. Percy's eyes widened in delight, and he grinned up at her, his face glowing with happiness as he picked up his fork.
"Thanks Mama!"
"You're very welcome, Percy," she replied, her voice soft as she leaned down to kiss his cheek. She watched as he ate with gusto, and she giggled. "Is it good?" Ariel asked softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Percy's forehead, her fingers brushing back a stray curl from his face.
Percy grinned, his little mouth filled with French toast, crumbs dotting his lips as he nodded enthusiastically. She smiled, her heart melting at the sight.
While Percy continued eating, Ariel turned toward the counter to make herself a cup of tea, the simple routine grounding her in a moment of peace. She poured hot water over the tea leaves, watching as the steam rose, feeling the warmth of the cup seep into her hands. Her gaze drifted to the window, and as she took her tea to the table, she reached over to pull the curtains open.
The morning sun streamed through, bathing the kitchen in a golden glow. But her tranquility shattered in an instant. Her breath caught, and her stomach dropped as her eyes landed on an enormous figure standing outside the house, staring straight through the window with a grotesque intensity.
Her heart nearly stopped as she registered the sight. A giant man, towering and hunched, his body too large to fit within any normal structure, loomed right outside. His skin was a dull, sickly greenish-gray, with bulging veins that pulsed grotesquely beneath the surface. But his face filled her with horror: his eyes, misshapen and unnatural, were asymmetrical – one large and unblinking, fixed on the window, while the other was squinted, almost lost in the folds of his mottled skin. He had six long, unnaturally muscular arms, each ending in abnormally large, curled fists that flexed and unflexed as he stared.
And he wasn't looking at her.
He was staring at Percy.
Ariel's heart thundered in her chest as she released the curtain, her hand shaking as she hurriedly pulled it shut, blocking out the terrible sight. Every muscle in her body went rigid, her instincts screaming as her gaze darted back to her son. Percy looked up at her, still chewing his toast, blissfully unaware of the looming terror just outside the house.
With trembling hands, she scooped Percy up in her arms, holding him close as he let out a startled "Oof!" A piece of French toast fell from his mouth, landing forgotten on the table as Ariel pulled him close. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and she could barely manage to keep her voice steady as she whispered, "It's okay, Percy. Everything's alright."
But her racing heart betrayed her words.
As she hugged him tightly, Ariel extended her free hand, snapping her wrist. Her wand – Ebony, nine inches and dragon heartstring – flew to her palm, its familiar weight grounding her as she clutched it, her mind spinning with the urgency of what was happening. With Percy held tightly in one arm, she moved toward the stairs, her eyes darting to the walls around her, her senses hyper-aware of every sound.
Then, a deafening crash reverberated through the house as a massive fist pounded against the wall. The force rattled the entire structure, sending framed pictures clattering to the floor and dust cascading from the ceiling. Percy's eyes widened, and he turned his head, his small face contorted with fear as another colossal thud reverberated through the walls, the impact shaking them to the core.
"Peter!" Ariel cried, her voice breaking slightly as her husband stirred in the bedroom, the disturbance rousing him from his sleep.
She heard the familiar thump of him stumbling out of bed, his groggy voice calling out, "Ariel—what…?"
She heard him moving, disoriented as he struggled to comprehend the noise, but she didn't have time to explain. Her mind was racing, her pulse thrumming as she cradled Percy close, feeling his small, terrified breaths against her shoulder. She forced herself to appear calm for his sake, even as the fear gnawed at her.
"Something is outside the house!" she shouted, the panic evident in her voice as another bang echoed, shaking the floor beneath her feet. She glanced up the stairs, desperation in her eyes as she looked at Peter. "It's trying to get in!"
Peter's expression shifted instantly, the sleepy confusion replaced by sharp awareness. His eyes widened, and then narrowed as he processed her words. The walls rattled once more, and he took a step toward her, the fierce protectiveness in his gaze unmistakable. "Stay here," he said firmly.
But Ariel shook her head, her grip on Percy tightening. "No!" she protested, her voice unyielding. "You stay here." She pressed Percy into his arms, her gaze determined as she met his eyes. Whatever was outside, she would handle it. It was a magical creature – and her husband was muggle. This was because of her.
Peter's hand wrapped around her arm, his gaze steady and filled with concern as he searched her face. But she was resolute, and he could see the fierce determination in her eyes. After a brief hesitation, he released her, watching as she pulled her wand up her sleeve, her face a mask of focus "I didn't want you to find out this way," She whispered, eyes downcast as she looked at her wand.
With a final look at him, Ariel turned, running down the stairs and motionlessly closing the door behind her. With a quick flick of her wand, she cast the most powerful ward she could muster around the door, feeling the magic surge from her core and seal the entrance with an invisible barrier.
She could still feel the tremors from the creature's blows reverberating through the walls, each one a reminder of the monstrous strength waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, forcing her fear into a corner of her mind as she descended the stairs.
But the instant she reached the bottom step, she froze.
The entire window facing the backyard shattered inward with a deafening crash, sending shards of glass exploding into the room. Ariel instinctively ducked, raising her arms to shield her face as the fragments rained around her. When she looked up, her heart sank.
The creature had forced its way through the wall, reducing the wood and plaster to rubble. Its massive form loomed in the space where the window had once been, its hunched figure casting an ominous shadow across the room.
Ariel's gaze darted to its mouth, and a shiver ran through her as she noticed its sharp, crooked teeth, each one protruding at odd angles. They pointed downward in an unnatural snarl, yellowed and broken, dripping with some dark, viscous substance that left a foul-smelling trail wherever it drooled. Its mouth twisted in a hideous grin, a perverse expression that seemed more animal than human.
Both eyes locked onto her, the twisted smile fading into a look of pure, primal hunger. She felt a surge of nausea as the creature's gaze zeroed in on her. It inhaled deeply, its nostrils flaring as it took in her scent, and a low, guttural growl rumbled from its chest, vibrating through the air.
Run, her instincts screamed, but she was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the sheer horror of the being in front of her. She tightened her grip on her wand, forcing herself to breathe, to remember her training, to push down the icy tendrils of fear that wrapped around her heart.
The creature let out a roar, the sound so loud and feral that it seemed to shake the very air around them. Ariel's heart pounded as she raised her wand, aiming it directly at the creature, her hand trembling as she steadied her aim.
"Reducto!" she screamed, her voice laced with desperation as she cast the spell with all the force she could muster. The spell shot forward, a burst of blue energy surging toward the creature's chest. But as it made contact, the magic fizzled into nothingness.
Ariel's blood ran cold, her eyes widening as she realized the spell had done nothing – absolutely nothing.
Ariel's breath caught as the beast lunged forward, its fists raised high, ready to strike her with the kind of force that would leave nothing in its wake. Her heart thundered in her chest, every fiber of her being screaming in terror as she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the impact.
But then, nothing.
Instead of the crushing blow she expected, she heard a low, echoing thud, the sound of something colliding but not with her. She hesitated, her eyelids fluttering as she opened her eyes cautiously, her breath shuddering in her chest.
Standing between her and the creature was Peter, his body radiating an intense blue light. Peter's eyes were no longer the familiar, warm gaze she had always known – they glowed with a fierce light, almost as if the sea itself resided within them. Wisps of blue mist escaped his mouth with each exhale, visible even in the heat.
"And I'm sorry too," he murmured, "I didn't want you to find out this way."
Ariel's eyes widened. The creature – this towering, grotesque giant that had easily shattered through the wall – that had ignored her spell entirely – was now immobilized, its six fists suspended mid-air, held back by an invisible force that seemed to emanate from Peter himself. The beast struggled, its limbs twitching as it fought against the invisible hold, but it was no match for whatever power Peter was wielding.
Her mind spun as she tried to process what she was seeing. Peter – her husband, the man she had known, loved, and shared her life with – was doing the impossible, holding a monstrous creature at bay with nothing more than a flick of his wrist. The blue glow surrounding him was both beautiful and terrifying, a power so immense it made her feel small, insignificant, andsomehow safe.
He turned to the beast, his expression hardening as he raised his fist. Peter cocked his arm back, his muscles tensing as he prepared to strike. The air around his fist seemed to pulse, rippling with energy as the atmosphere itself bent to his will. And then, in one swift, controlled motion, he drove his fist forward, directly into the creature's stomach.
The impact was deafening, a resounding boom that echoed through the house, shaking the walls and rattling the furniture. The force of his punch was so immense that it sent a shockwave through the room, and Ariel had to shield her face from the wind that tore past her. The creature's body convulsed, its grotesque form bending around the point of impact as if it were made of nothing more than putty.
And then, before her very eyes, the beast was launched backward, its massive body hurtling through the remains of the shattered wall. As it flew, its form began to disintegrate, particles of its sickly green flesh vaporizing in the air, leaving nothing but a trail of darkness as it vanished from sight. By the time it reached the yard's edge, nothing was left of it – no sign that it had ever existed.
Ariel felt her knees buckle, her legs suddenly weak as the adrenaline drained from her body. She sank to the ground, her hand clutching her chest as she tried to steady her breathing. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of questions, fear, and disbelief.
Peter's glow faded completely, the fierce blue light vanishing until he looked like his usual self again. Almost. He turned to her, his gaze softening as he took a step forward, his hand extended as if to reassure her. "Are you alright, Ellie?" he asked gently.
Ariel looked up at him, her gaze filled with fear, confusion, and wonder. The man she had shared her life with, the man she thought she knew so wholly, had just displayed a power that defied everything she understood about the world. And she had no idea who – or what – he was.
"Who… who are you really?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she searched his face for answers, her heart pounding as she tried to understand it all.
Peter's expression softened, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he looked down at her. He took a slow, steadying breath as if weighing his words carefully, knowing what he was about to say would change everything between them.
"My name…" he began quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He paused, a flicker of emotion crossing his face before he met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of apology and acceptance. "Hello again, Ariel," he said softly, his tone gentle. "I'm your husband… Poseidon."
Moments Earlier
As Ariel closed the door hurriedly, Poseidon felt dread settle in his chest. He could hear the ominous creaking of the walls, each impact from the creature outside rattling the house. A deafening crash reverberated through the air, and he could feel the foundation of the house tremble as something massive shattered through the walls downstairs. He tightened his hold on Percy, pulling him close as his mind raced.
He hurriedly set Percy on the bed, his hands lingering for a moment on his son's small shoulders. "Stay here, Percy!" he commanded, his voice laced with urgency as he pointed at him, hoping the little boy could sense the gravity of the situation. Percy's wide, fearful eyes met his, but he nodded, clutching the blanket as he huddled back, watching his father with a mixture of confusion and worry.
Poseidon turned back to the door, gripping the handle tightly, his heart pounding as he tried to force it open. But no matter how much he pulled, the door wouldn't budge. A wave of helplessness surged through him, and he felt a surge of desperation clawing at his mind. I can't get to her, he thought, panic rising as he heard another crash echo from downstairs. The unmistakable sound of the creature's roar filtered up through the floorboards.
Without wasting another second, he closed his eyes, his mind reaching out instinctively, connecting to the bond he shared with his father. FATHER! he called out mentally, his thoughts vibrating urgently. We're in danger – I need my powers!
There was a beat of silence – and then, almost instantly, he felt it: the flood of power surging back into his body, every cell awakening with the familiar energy that coursed through him. His muscles tensed as the energy filled him, strength settling into his bones. The very essence of the sea – the crashing waves, the endless depths, the unstoppable force of the tides – rushed through him, sharpening his senses. The limits of his mortal form no longer bound him; he was Poseidon once more.
With a single thought, he phased through reality, his body flickering out of existence for a heartbeat before reappearing downstairs, right in front of Ariel. A vivid blue glow surrounded his form, casting shadows on the walls. He noticed Ariel, her eyes squeezed shut, her face twisted in fear as she awaited the blow. His heart seemed to stop, every ounce of anger, anxiety, and protectiveness surging forward in an uncontainable torrent. The sight of her, vulnerable and brave, only fueled the rage that pulsed through his veins, propelling him to defend her at all costs. The creature would pay for its intrusion – he would make sure of it.
A/N: Chapter 2 is up. Hi.