Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Please ask Dad to let me eat! I’m sorry!”

Triton and Kymopoleia’s teasing grins dropped at the high-pitched exclamation. The past week had been odd at best, and they’d all been rolling with it as best they could, but the anxiety quickly soiling into raw fear on Percy’s face took the cake.

The oddity had started just over a week ago, when a nest of monsters Kronos was known to make had been found and routed. They were nasty little things that messed with their victim’s time, especially when mortals entered the picture. Percy, happy to help, had come along with the attack force. He’d been blindsided by one of the things due to another’s (promptly punished) incompetence.

The attack party had returned with a roughly 4-year-old Percy. It would only last a week or two, Father assured them -- the things were designed to inconvenience whoever they attacked more than anything else. And an inconvenience it was – Father’s favorite little gremlin couldn’t just be left alone like this. Father may have relieved Triton of enough duties to take care of the thing, but that didn’t make it better, in Triton’s opinion.

And so, a mere seven months after Percy had first come to live in Atlantis full time, Triton and Kymopoleia were saddled with caring for the clueless little thing. Poseidon helped in the mornings, getting Percy up, dressed and fed easily, but left the rest to them. Percy had recognized Poseidon as his father the moment he’d laid eyes on the god, though he had demonstrated no memory of any of them otherwise.

Triton was endlessly glad that Percy had decided to trust and listen to Poseidon simply because he was Percy’s father. Tearful fits could be calmed with a few minutes of burying his tiny face in Poseidon’s neck, and bouts of anger were tempered by Father’s mere proximity.

Triton had made a point to try and avoid children since his daughter’s death, but both he and Kymopoleia had come into contact with enough of them over the millennia to have an idea of how they were supposed to act, generally. Percy was not a normal child. He was bright and curious about the world, eager to learn and explore; but those tendencies were kept locked behind a persistent anxiety that neither sibling had ever seen portrayed in the near 20-year-old Percy they’d come to know.

He spoke with as few words as possible, despite his capacity to construct full sentences. He kept his hands still and to himself if he wasn’t hugging or holding hands with another – something that the adult Percy never seemed capable of. Most disturbingly of all, he tended to stay where he was put. Stayed still.

It rubbed Triton the wrong way from the first time it happened, mere moments after Little Percy was brought to the throne room to alert Father of the accident.

Percy always, always fidgeted or paced or strolled or darted after something he’d seen in the distance or changed to six different ways to sit in his chair in the first six minutes of sitting down. He was always making some stupid pun or sarcastic quip or tapping his fingers or a million other little things. Little Percy stood with his arms curled around his forearms, staring at everything around him but with both feet planted firmly on the ground, never speaking unless spoken to.

He talked to Father the same amount, if Father’s murmured responses whenever he was carrying Percy were an accurate measure. Kymopoleia had even seen Percy fidgeting like normal one of the few times he’d been left (relatively) alone. But the moment someone else entered the room, silence and stillness abounded. It had only been a handful of days – a length of time short even for mortals, but Triton was already sick of the unsettling change.

Triton may not have liked Percy all that much, but he knew better than to treat a child harshly. His efforts to seem approachable had paid off a few hours ago, when Percy quietly asked to play with him and Kymopoleia. It was the closest to his normal attitude they’d seen so far. Percy engaged with the same enthusiasm as normal, laughed at all the same jokes, and tried to pull the same tricks.

It wasn’t until little Percy, clumsy as all kids were, knocked over a random pot that the day went from strange but manageable to horridly uncomfortable. Kymopoleia had immediately jumped to teasing Percy, and Triton couldn’t help but join in when little Percy took it well enough to blow a raspberry at them. Then one of them had joked about how Percy would be in Big Trouble for breaking an Irreplaceable Heirloom of the House of Poseidon.

Percy had gone white as dying coral immediately, and he’d exclaimed, with a rapidly growing tone of fear, for them to help in asking Father to let him eat.

What?

Triton exchanged a confused glance with Kymopoleia. “What are you on about, Perseus?” He asked. Percy tucked his hands in his armpits, shoulders curling inwards a handful of degrees. He was staring at the completely ordinary, almost worthless décor shattered on the floor, pieces drifting to the ground slowly. Kymopoleia shifted in place, flicking her tail, pulling a tendril of her hair over her shoulder to mess with as they waited for Percy to answer.

“You said I’m in big trouble,” Percy said in a whisper, eyeing them from his peripherals. “Dads are the ones in charge of punishment when there’s big trouble.”

Triton coiled his tails underneath him to settle on the floor nearby, closer to eye level. “And that has to do with food how?”

Percy glanced at him a few times, shifting away from Kymopoleia when she began to shift with rapidly thinning patience. Eventually, shoulders climbing towards his ears, Percy answered almost inaudibly.

Big trouble meant that punishment was decided by the “dad of the house”, he told them. Dads all over the world, Gabe asserted (whoever that was), had got together and agreed what were right or wrong punishments for different kinds of Big Trouble.

Percy didn’t mean to break the irreplaceable heirloom (Triton had to keep a smile from showing at how little Percy carefully tried to repeat the bigger words), and he was sorry. That made the Big Trouble a bit better, but it was still Big.

Then Percy uttered one of the most chilling sentences Triton had heard from a child in several centuries.

“Mama’s not here to make Dad pick a different punishment, so that means I’m not gonna get to eat until Dad says I’m not in trouble anymore.”

Kymopoleia went utterly still, blank faced and pale. Triton could hardly spare any attention for her, though. Most of his own focus was on not teleporting to the surface and killing Sally Jackson and whoever the “Gabe” man was, and from keeping his form and face from contorting into something that would scare the child further.

Punishment via withholding food had been a crime under Father’s law since the day he’d taken the Atlantean crown. Triton had no idea where or when Percy had gotten the idea that Poseidon would ever even entertain punishing any child in such a horrid manner (much less his favorite son), but it was a notion Triton needed to disavow immediately.

He swam closer, holding a single hand out palm up in invitation after he’d settled on the floor again. Percy was an affectionate person, and he was always calmer when in contact with another. Percy glanced between Kymopoleia’s still and silent form, Triton’s neutral face, and his hand a few times. He did thankfully set one tiny hand in Triton’s.

Triton curled his fingers just enough to pin the tremors in those little fingers into stillness. Gentle. He needed to be gentle right now. “I need you to listen to me, Percy.” He said seriously. He waited until Percy nodded to continue.

“Our Father has never, and will never, punish a child by keeping food from them. You can eat as much as you want, whenever you want. That won’t change no matter what.” He leaned forwards and rested his chin on his fingers, ignoring the way Percy twitched backwards for both of their sakes. “And even if he tried, I won’t let him, okay?”

Percy finally made eye contact. “You promise? You’ll make dad choose a different way?”

Triton shook his head. “You’re not in trouble at all. I promise. Kymopoleia and I were trying to joke with you, have some fun. That’s not an heirloom, it’s an old, cheap piece of pottery no one cares about. We just thought it’d be funny to tease you for being clumsy.”

Percy flushed. It was enough of a relief to see some color come back to his cheeks that Triton didn’t care about the building irritation overtaking the fear. He’d take anger over that pale, drawn look any day.

“That’s mean!” Percy declared in a voice still wavering with anxiety. “Dad told you to play nice with me this morning!”

“He did,” Kymopoleia said quietly. Triton glanced over at her to see a deep sorrow etching its way deeper into the lines of her face with each passing moment. Her anger was, strangely enough, nowhere to be seen. “I’m sorry, guppy. We shouldn’t have scared you.”

Percy deflated a bit. “You promise I’m not gonna be in big trouble for being stupid and breaking the pottery-thing?”

“You weren’t being stupid!” Kymopoleia declared hotly.

“You are not in trouble.” Triton declared at the same time.

Percy glanced at the shards of pottery again, evidently disbelieving of either of them. Triton rose to standing and pulled Percy close, picking him up in one smooth motion. Percy squirmed until he could see the room clearly but accepted being carried.

“Come,” Triton said to them both, swimming swiftly. “let’s find Father so you can snitch on Kymopoleia and I for being mean. Show you what Father does when there’s trouble to be had.”

Percy hesitated. “But…”

Kymopoleia cackled. “Excellent idea, brother. Father asked us to be nice to you and we weren’t!” She caught up and shot Percy a bright, confident grin. “This way you can see what it’s like to get in trouble with Father without being in trouble yourself! Know what’s coming for when you break something on purpose next time!”

Triton snorted. “Perseus is too well-behaved to do anything of the sort.”

Percy’s head swiveled between them as they launched into a light-hearted bicker. Kymopoleia argued for teaching Percy how to get into Little Trouble, as she dubbed it, and Triton argued that Percy was too much of a prince to engage in even harmless destruction. It seemed to distract him from being worried about Father’s response fairly well. He didn’t seem to notice they were headed right to where Poseidon was until they arrived.

Percy’s little hands remained tightly fisted in Triton’s collar even when they got to Father’s personal library and found him pouring over ledgers and scrolls. It was the first time he’d refrained from immediately approaching Father for an embrace in months. Percy’s breath was shallow in his ear, quick but steady. Father clocked the fear before he’d even raised his gaze, frown of concentration becoming a frown of concern.

Triton withheld a sigh, already bracing for the lecture that would come from the imminent conversation. “Kymopoleia and I are in trouble,” he told his father solemnly. Kymopoleia nodded firmly besides him, to their father’s growing confusion.

“What kind of trouble?” Poseidon asked slowly, rising and approaching. Percy shrank back, and Triton saw a flicker of hurt pass over Father’s eyes. He approached nonetheless. He examined Percy with his eyes, gently extending a hand to brush through his hair. Percy accepted the brief touch, staring wide-eyed and silent, more confused than Father.

“We almost made the guppy cry,” Kymopoleia reported solemnly, latching her hands behind her back. Percy’s hands tightened around Triton even more. “We made him think you were going to be mad at him and it made him worried.” She continued, and Percy squirmed more with each word out of her mouth.

Father’s mouth tightened with displeasure. “And why would you do such a thing?”

“I’m sorry!” Percy exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to break it! It’s just Kym was chasing me so quick and she was gonna win the game, we were playing freeze tag, and I didn’t turn fast enough!"

Father tipped his head to one side, opening his mouth to speak. Percy bowled right over him.

“And, and, I really didn’t mean to knock it over, I promise. I didn’t even see it until-”

Father resettled a hand in Percy’s hair to silence the frantic rambling. “So you broke something, your siblings decided to tease you about it, and it made you think I was going to be mad at you?” He guessed calmly. Percy hesitated.

“…Yeah.”

Father hummed. He turned to Triton expectantly. Triton notedPercy’s anxious shifting and switched to Atlantean to speak plainly about the real issue.

“Do you know who a “Gabe” is, in reference to Percy? From what he told us earlier he seemed to be some sort of caretaker.” Triton was careful to lilt the pronunciation of Gabe’s name enough to be understandable to Poseidon’s fluency, and unrecognizable to Percy’s ignorance.

Poseidon thought for a moment. “I’ve heard mention of the name from Percy before. I believe he was his mother’s first husband. He was not around when I visited for Percy’s 15^th birthday, though.”

Triton eyed his father and made a military hand signal that asked Poseidon not to react until the end of his report. Poseidon’s eyebrows shot up.

“I believe he may have starved Percy as punishment on more than one occasion.” Triton began quickly, hoping to get through faster than father’s temper could rise to full boil. “When Percy believed himself in trouble with you for breaking a piece of pottery, he near fainted with fright and asked us to help him plead with you to choose a different punishment than withholding food. We were unable to soothe his belief that you would punish him for the accident. Kymopoleia and I thought it might help to ‘get into trouble’ with you ourselves to demonstrate to him you won’t injure any of your children in such a manner, especially considering he knows we disobeyed you as opposed to his accident.  He said his mother would prevent the man from starving him, and that all fathers give such punishments when there is, quote, ‘big trouble.’”

Poseidon stared at him calmly, growing fury expressed in shivering winds and growing waves far away instead of his face. “Thank you for telling me the truth of the situation, son.” He said in English. His fingers curled to scratch at Percy’s scalp instead of just resting there. “I’m a bit disappointed that you and your sister decided to disobey me by frightening your brother, but I appreciate your attempt to repair things once you realized Percy was anxious.”

He smiled at Percy warmly. “As for the pottery.” He leaned forwards to press a kiss to Percy’s forehead. “I don’t care,” he said with a shrug.

Percy gaped at him. Poseidon snorted. “I’m a King, my son. I can just wave a hand and have a dozen more of the pot you broke made by the end of the day if I wished. Accidents happen.”

He patted Percy’s head with a lopsided, friendly grin. Percy launched himself from Triton’s arms and straight into Father’s. He caught and swung Percy around until he laughed, tucking him against his shoulder to rest. Percy let out a heaving, relieved sigh. “I’m glad you’re not as angry as Gabe is,” Percy said simply, voice muffled against Poseidon’s shoulder.

Poseidon patted him and turned to them, no evidence of his anger in his touch, held only in his eyes where his adult children could see. “As for you two? I’m revoking Percy privileges until you can prove to me you’re not going to be mean to him again.”

Triton and Kymopoleia performatively protested. Percy giggled quietly when Kymopoleia whined loudly and wordlessly. They were both fully aware that Father was only “withholding” Percy until he was an adult again in a week or so; as well as all but outright thanking them for pinpointing a potential threat to his health without Percy panicking over the unexpected pocket of hurt.

“Son, take Rhode and speak with his mother about this Gabe. Find out as much as you can of what he did to Percy. Daughter, find some options to punish him for transgressing against a son of mine,” Father ordered in Atlantean, speaking into Percy’s hair with the same soft tone every parent uses to utter sweet nothings to their child, reaching to tickle his side.

Triton bowed and swam from the room, Kymopoleia not far behind. Percy shrieked with laughter behind them.

Chapter Text

Poseidon closed his eyes for a long moment, taking solace in the bright laughter echoing in his ear, where Percy was attempting to squirm away from his tickling touch. The past handful of days had been so stupidly busy, he hadn't had any time for his little one. He soaked up the laughter now. Poseidon hadn’t had the chance to keep such a young demigod child of his so close in near a thousand years, after all.

He regretted how busy the crop rot in the southern farming fields had kept him over the past month. But Poseidon simply couldn’t prioritize making memories with his de-aged son over ensuring the health of several thousand of his people. Several aspects of his consciousness were busy in different parts of the south even now: negotiating with Mama Qucha - an Incan goddess of the sea - for emergency imports, controlling the spread of the rot to keep healthy farms from being infected, relocating displaced populous until stable food supplies could be re-established, and a thousand other details regarding that issue alone.

This aspect of his consciousness sank back into his desk chair, leaning back and relishing the warm weight of his son resting in his arms. Percy settled now that he wasn't being tickled, tucking his face against Poseidon’s neck, sighing again. His heart was still fluttering with that deep-seated anxiety he’d been constantly wrought with since he’d been de-aged. Poseidon wondered how much of it stemmed from that “Gabe”, and how much was stress over being in Atlantis. Actual 4-year-old Percy had never been so long without his mother, after all.

“Have your siblings been nice to you, other than the teasing today? I know Kymopoleia can be a little rough when she’s playing, always has been.” He asked. He spoke in a deep tone that made his words rumble low in his chest; a long-developed habit started when Triton was still little. Each of his children loved the rumble without fail, and Percy was no exception. His little body melted into Poseidon a bit more, heart rate steadying.

“Mhm. Triton’s nice.” Percy mumbled. He fidgeted with the sleeve of Poseidon’s shirt, hitched a shrug, and continued even softer. “Kym is cool.”

“Good.” Poseidon shifted Percy more to one arm to pick up the legal document he’d been reading. He ran his hand over Percy’s back in long, slow strokes as he did. Percy leaned into it, nerves slowly eroding. Poseidon wasn’t just busy with work; he knew Percy needed to be as calm as Poseidon could get him for the conversation they needed to have before the day was out.

Withholding food as punishment. What a cruel thing to do to a son or daughter. Even Poseidon – the vengeful and temperamental god he was – wasn’t of such a nature. Poseidon needed to ensure Percy knew his father wouldn’t punish him like that.

He decided to hold off on talking to Percy until he knew more about what had happened to his son. He let himself relax and keep only one eye on work when Percy curled into him. Percy moved so his mouth was free, and murmured about the game they’d been playing, and the pretty fish that had tagged along, and the little sweet roll that the chef had slipped him when they’d passed through the kitchens. He had been so, so quiet with everyone else, it wouldn’t do to interrupt and have Percy clam up with him too.

He lapsed into silence eventually, watching the jellyfish that drifted up near the ceiling. More than half an hour later, Percy picked his head up from Poseidon’s neck, blinking a bit sleepily at the scroll in Poseidon’s hand. “Where’d Tri and Kym go?” He asked.

“Handling a few errands for me so I can spend some time with you.”

Percy nodded silently, squinting at the scroll.

Poseidon chuckled. “It’s quite dry reading, kiddo. You won’t like it.”

Percy glanced at him and then down at a necklace Poseidon was wearing. “Could…” He glanced at Poseidon again shyly. “Could you read it out loud anyways?”

Poseidon smiled at his son, fully aware that Percy just wanted an excuse to feel his voice again. “Alright.”

Percy lost interest in the dry legal language within a few sentences, predictably enough; and was asleep minutes and a scroll and a half later. Poseidon switched to humming until Percy was drooling against his collar to make sure he was thoroughly asleep.

All was quiet within the library again, for a time.

Triton and Rhode knocked on the door more than two hours after he’d sent them to speak with Sally. Rhode gave Percy’s sleeping form a sorrowful look as they drew up chairs to join him.

“Gabriel Ugliano is, unfortunately for us, dead.” Triton said flatly, searing anger in his eyes.

“Unfortunate indeed,” Poseidon said.

Rhode sighed. “It’s a story long told since Lamia’s Curse was cast,” she said quietly. Triton scowled, folding his arms. He tugged at his connection to Kymopoleia to call his daughter. “Let us wait until your sister is here,” he said, “so that we don’t have to repeat things.”

Kymopoleia arrived a few minutes later, a few scrolls stacked in her arms. Poseidon recognized one that depicted his punishment of Ajax the Lesser for his crimes in the Trojan war. Poseidon set his work aside fully, gesturing for them to continue.

“Sally married Gabriel when Percy was two years old, some months after several basilisks nested in the basement of the apartment building she was living in,” Rhode said. “Sally had already been looking for a way to cover Percy’s scent, since he’d already had a snake crawl into his crib at a nursery.”

“That’s very young, no?” Kymopoleia asked. She laid the scrolls out in front of Poseidon with a pleased smile. She brushed Percy hair off his face before she perched on his desk to listen.

“Young for most,” he agreed. “But Percy is not only a powerful son of mine, but the subject of two Great Prophecies. I’m not surprised the combination caused his smell to be so potent.”

“Sally was fairly upset during our discussion of Gabriel,” Triton said. “He was controlling, often drunk, and overall a vile man. She chose him for his poor hygiene and his addictions. I visited the apartment they lived in with him, and even eight years since his death-”

Kymopoleia let out a distressed noise, throwing her hands out to the side. “He’s dead?!”

Poseidon felt Percy twitch at Kymopoleia’s loud cry. “Kymopoleia,” he chided. “Let Percy sleep.”

She scowled at him, temper fouling. “And after I got my hopes up too.”

“I’m aware.” He said. Triton exhaled with dark humor at the touch of wistfulness in his tone. Poseidon began rubbing long loops on Percy’s back to coax him back into deep sleep.

“May I continue, sister mine?” Triton said.

“Your voice seems functional enough.”

Triton visibly let the bait wash off his back, irritation clear. “Even eight years after his death, I could still tell that he was a heavy drinker and smoker. Sally married him to keep him from the monsters after his scent. Pity she handed Percy over to him on a silver platter in doing so.”

Poseidon took a deep breath. “She was complicit in his harming Percy?”

“No.” Rhode said firmly, giving Triton a hard stare. “Triton is being uncharitable in his desire for a target. Sally demonstrated adequate truthfulness in her answers. She was just as much subject to Gabriel’s violence as Percy was, in some ways even more so. She stated that she was unaware that Gabriel was starving Percy as discipline. She knew he was trying to keep both of them from eating enough food at times. She believed it an attempt to exert control over them. Sally is unaware of whether Gabriel completely withheld food from Percy when she wasn’t present.”

“Matches with what Percy said,” Kymopoleia mused. “That his mother wasn’t here to make Father choose something different. Did Gabriel hit either of them?”

“Yes. Sally described how Gabriel once threw a glass bottle at Percy’s head. She had several scars on one shoulder from glass as well.” Triton’s anger had a note of disgust now.

They discussed what else his children had learned for a while. The attempt to keep Percy’s scent covered worked well, even when Gabriel became violent enough that Sally sent him away to boarding school. Sally had required Percy to visit as many weekends as possible, to re-coat him with Gabriel’s reek.

Kymopoleia was pleased with the manner of Gabriel’s death when it came up. It took more than a few minutes for her to stop flashing a grin filled with anglerfish teeth, even with the way Rhode mocked it by turning her own teeth into whale baleen and chattering her jaw at Kymopoleia whenever Triton took over the discussion. Poseidon promised them a family outing to the museum his statue was housed in once work had let up. Triton promptly swiped a stack of documents and letters towards himself. The girls laughed themselves sick at the challenging stare he leveled at Poseidon.

Ridiculous children, the lot of them.

Poseidon dictated a letter for his brother to Rhode as Triton tackled his newly claimed tasks. He wanted to know where Gabriel’s soul had ended up in the Underworld. He was willing to call in a favor with either Hades or Persephone to learn the details of his punishment.

Percy woke to light-hearted bickering and laughter, all traces of their dark conversation dissolved. He barely shifted, merely turning his head to watch and listen to his brother and sisters. It’d been delightful to learn that Percy had always been one to awake groggy and slow, both as a child and an adult. While always affectionate, he was most clingy when half-awake like this. While Poseidon was too busy to see more than glimpses of his kids during the day, he'd managed to square away time to wake little Percy each morning purely for the sleepy, clingy cuddles. Percy was even more boneless right now than when he was dead asleep, actively pressing his full body weight against his chest.

Poseidon relished in the blind trust Percy had in him. His deeply possessive nature was soothed by Percy’s crystal-clear desire to remain close. At the same time, nostalgia for when the present three and Benthesikyme were little like this stirred. He pulled back from the conversation to simply listen and reminisce.

Kymopoleia had been the fussiest of his godly four. He remembered how, when she was seven, she’d cried every single time he set her down for an entire summer. Triton had been the shyest about his desire to cling; often just grabbing his and Amphitrite’s hands and pressing against their sides instead of letting himself be carried.

He missed his wife. She and Benthesikyme were off visiting her sisters and mother for another day or two. He wondered how she’d receive Percy, should he still be a small child when she returned. There was still a level of awkward distance on Percy’s end, and disinterest on hers. It could be much worse, he mused. The arguments she’d had with Theseus and Bellerophon still blistered his ears to remember. He refocused when Percy’s stomach growled.

Tension immediately began bleeding back into Percy’s frame. Poseidon bit back a sigh. Seems his worries would be a bit harder to soothe than initially evident. He pulled Percy up off his shoulder and kissed his temple.

“Enough bickering, you three. I say it’s time we all got some lunch.” He said.

Triton looked over from where he was stiff-arming Rhode to keep her from doing…something to him. He quickly caught on to Percy’s quietly wary attitude. “Agreed,” he said briskly, winking at Percy. Percy let out a breath, relaxing a fraction. Kymopoleia darted close and snatched Percy from his arms, grinning mischievously.

“Last one to the dining hall is a clown frogfish!” she said, kicking her tail hard to get a head start. Percy yelped at the speed, looking delighted by the little game.

“Hey!” Rhode cried, chasing after.

Triton grumbled. They rose to follow at a relaxed pace. Poseidon pulled him in close as they trailed after. When his other children were far enough ahead not to listen in, Poseidon looked down at his oldest.

“Son?”

Triton’s expression cracked. “I missed this.”

“This?”

“Taking…” Triton trailed off for a moment. He cleared his throat. “Missed taking care of a little one.”

Old grief welled between them at the subtle reference to Pallas. Her death had irreparably scarred his son. He’d always had a heart for children, for care-taking.

“I’ve missed being a father like this.” He agreed simply. “Being a grandfather, too.”

Triton stopped swimming to master the grief breaking through to the surface. Poseidon pulled him in for a hug, pressing their foreheads together. He reached through the connection he had to all his children and offered his own resilience to bolster Triton’s.

It took a long minute, but the moment passed, and they continued on. Just as they had before, and just as they would in the future. If Poseidon nudged Percy to sit side-by-side with Triton as they ate, that was neither here nor there.

Chapter Text

This had been the strangest week of Percy's short life so far. By far. Percy wasn't quite sure what was going on. One minute, he was drawing a picture over the counting numbers page the daycare lady had given him, and the next...

Well, the next thing he knew it was loud, and chaotic, and there was blue water and sand everywhere, and there had been a bunch of big scary things. One of them had a giant snapping mouth like a snake, and it was lunging towards him.

The several of the other big creatures got in the way, yanking Percy back and away and attacking the snake-thing with spears and swords like in that cartoon Mama let him watch sometimes. The snake-thing crumbled into a cloud of gold sand before he could get scared about what was happening.

The big creature-person holding him ran- wait! Percy could see he had a tail! Swam, then? They swam away from the scene, towards a pile of big rocks. He set Percy down against the rocks and swung around, holding a big round shield and a fork-shaped spear thing. Percy thought it looked a lot like the magic weapon that Ariel's dad had in the Little Mermaid.

"I need you to take a big breath, little one," the man with a tail said over his shoulder. It was then that Percy realized he was shaking so hard that sand was stirring up around his feet. He pressed backwards against the rock and tried to take a big breath.

It was hard. Percy didn't know if it was because he was underwater (which - how?) and water was harder to breathe, or because his lungs wanted a bunch of fast, tiny breaths. He hated when he got scared like this. Gabe thought it was funny, but he always felt so bad after.

"Good, kiddo." The man said, calm and steady. "Can you keep trying to breathe slowly for me? I'd really appreciate the help."

How would breathing slow help him? Percy tried anyways, because Mama also liked him trying to breath slow when he was scared. As soon as it was a little easier to breathe, he realized that his back was starting to really hurt.

He whimpered, trying to feel with his hand. The man glanced back and hissed through his teeth. He jammed his weapon into the sand and reached into his belt. He pulled out a little bottle, opened it, and handed it to Percy.

"Drink this. Only a mouthful or two, though. It'll make the pain go away."

Percy took it hesitantly. Mama said not to take things from strangers, but his eyes were already stinging with tears from the pain. She also gave him things to help with pain when Gabe had hurt him, so maybe she wouldn't be upset with him now?

He took a tiny sip. It tasted just like his Mama's chocolate chip cookies, so he drank a big mouthful. The man's hand reached for him before he could drink more, taking the bottle back. The pain went away, and Percy felt really warm. It was nice, and it helped with the shaking too.

When the man asked if he could see Percy's back to make sure it was alright, Percy let him look. He only touched him for a moment, and only really lightly. Then the man put the bottle away and went back to standing with his weapon and shield.

Percy leaned to one side, trying to see around the man to where there was still a lot of yelling and clanging and the scary screaming noises the snake-thing had made when it lunged at him.

The man curled his tail so that one big fin blocked his view. Percy looked up at him instead. His tail looked like the shark in the aquarium Mama'd taken him to once. He had long hair braided down his back, and a big scar on one arm, puckering the skin. He had a lot of muscles. Armor like a knight's gleamed green and white, and when he looked away from the fighting to Percy, it was with a kind look in his eyes.

"Are you a mermaid?" Percy blurted. He immediately cringed, wondering if that was one of the rude things he sometimes said to strangers.

Thankfully, he just laughed. "I'm a type of mermaid, yes. You can call me Solaris."

"I'm, um, I'm Percy." He said, stammering when one of the snake-things screamed extra loudly. There was a big snapping noise, like something breaking, and then quiet.

"Well, Percy, I think we'd better get you somewhere safe now that the fight's over, hm?" The calm Solaris spoke and moved with was infectious, and it was easier to breathe now that the screaming had stopped. He coiled his tail under him to get closer to Percy's height. Solaris shouldered his shield on his back and smiled softly. "May I carry you? You can also just swim along, but it's a bit far for little legs."

Percy looked and looked at him, trying to see if there was a mean spark in his eye like in Gabe's, or that weird hungry look that the creepy man at the park liked to give him and the other kids before the police took him away. He just looked kind, though, like Mama.

Percy nodded quietly. Solaris opened his free arm, and hoisted him up onto his waist when he approached. He gave Percy a frown when he felt how he was still shaking a bit.

"Are you still scared? I promise that I won't let anything hurt you."

Percy looked down at the pretty embellishment on the front of Solaris's armor. He shrugged tightly. The twisting, worried feel in his chest was something that was pretty normal for him. There was also the big fear from earlier, but Solaris's arm around and under him made that feeling loosen.

Solaris hummed. His big body flexed and twisted, and suddenly they were swimming at a good clip away from the rocks and the big patch of golden sand clouding the water. Percy reflexively grabbed around his neck, huddling closer.

"Well," Solaris said, still calm and patient, "we'll get you to your father, and then you won't have to be scared of anything. He's very good at protecting what's his."

Percy didn't respond. He was more interested in looking at the other people (more mermaids!) that joined them. A few were bleeding from cuts and things. Solaris took the bottle from earlier and passed it to the nearest bleeding mermaid.

The other mermaids swam around them, with Solaris and Percy in the middle. At the back of the group, Percy could hear scolding in a language he didn't know. Whoever it was sounded really angry. Solaris shifted Percy around so he couldn't see, though.

It took a while, but eventually they came to a big city with a big castle. Inside the big castle was a big throne room, in that big throne room was the biggest mermaid Percy had ever seen seated on a big throne. Not the biggest in height or weight, in fact a pair of mermaids that had tails like a whale’s loomed each side of the King, taller than him.

No, he was the biggest in feeling. Being in the same room as the King felt a bit like he was being squished, a bit like Mama was hugging him really tight, and a bit like that time Gabe was so mad he backed Percy into a corner of the living room and shouted mean things really loud.

He looked away from the people speaking to him in front of his throne and straight at Percy.

Uh oh.

The King called Percy to him, and hoisted Percy into his lap. Once he'd made sure that he wasn't hurt and listened to Percy mumble his way through what he remembered happening, he tugged Percy close, big arms firm and comforting.

Percy realized pretty quick that the King was the same man who'd visited when he was tiny, smiling at him so happy and warm. He was mad about something, and he spoke pretty loud and quick at Solaris and the other mermaids. It was in that other language, though, the one he didn't understand.

He listened to who had to be his Dad scold the whole group, stared around the big throne room, and wondered how in the world he'd gotten himself in such a situation.

It was something he would ask himself a lot over the weird week that followed. But, no matter how weird things got, Percy always seemed to end up okay, so he didn't try to run away. (He didn't know how to get from Atlantis back to Mama's apartment anyways. The ocean was a big place...)

Some things that happened weren't good or bad, just new. Like when he met the irritated two-tailed mermaid named Triton, the loud jellyfish haired mermaid named Kym-something-Percy-couldn't-pronounce, and the solemn but sunny mermaid named "road"-but-spelled-different.

Other things were fun, like when Dad came to wake Percy up in the mornings with really nice hugs. Or when Triton complained about having to "watch the brat all day" and Kym stood where only Percy could see and mimicked him really dramatically just to make Percy laugh. Or when they met Dad’s Head Chef (who was nothing like the mean cook in the Little Mermaid). Or when they went and visited Solaris when Percy asked, who played a game with stones and little crabs with Percy.

Some things were bad, like getting lost in the big castle with its many winding halls and rooms. That happened at least once a day, when Triton and Kym would forget that he wasn't a fast swimmer and leave him behind. It never got less scary; he was little! Percy had taken to just stopping and standing where they'd left him so that they could find him again faster. They always said sorry when they came back, at least.

Other things would start out pretty bad, and then would turn good. Like, four days into this weird week, when a weird Lord-Dude tried to be mean to Percy. He'd snuck away from Triton and Kym because they were arguing with each other again and it was loud. He had found a little courtyard nearby, open to the sea all around him. It had a pretty coral tower in the middle that had anemones and clownfish and all sorts of other really cool fish. Percy had bounced around it for a while, happy as the clams that clung to the tower.

He couldn't help it! It was so cool! He was giggling at a bunch of little shrimps who were crawling around on his arms and shirt, cleaning him, when a throat cleared behind him. A sneering dude was glaring at him.

The dude (Lord! He'd declared) was weird and mean and grabbed Percy's arm really hard. He spoke in that other language half the time, voice loud like Gabe's , eyes mean like Gabe's, and words harsh like Gabe. Percy had tried to get away, hurt and hollering. He was alone with the weird Lord-Dude one moment, and then Triton and Kym and Rhode showed up and bullied the Lord-Dude out of the courtyard.

Triton had gone from stiff, irritated brother to big fusspot who easy to play with since that happened. He was a lot more fun now.

Another bad-thing-turned-pretty-good was this morning, when Percy had knocked over that pot. He'd not gotten to see so much of Dad before that morning. Things were always so much simpler, so much easier when Dad was hugging him. He was happy Dad let him take that nap on his shoulder. Mama sometimes let him do that too.

Triton was right that Dad wouldn't be mad. He'd read out loud to Percy with that deep, soothing voice, and listened when Percy talked about his morning. He'd even filled Percy's plate himself at lunch, even when Percy tried to say he wasn't hungry.

It was nice that they weren't mad, but...

Gabe was going to be so, so mad when he found out Dad wasn't following the dad-rules meant for all dads. He was probably going to yell bad things when he learned that Percy had eaten anyways. He'd been so much less angry the last time Percy had made Big Trouble at the daycare - when Percy refused to eat lunch himself because he knew Gabe wouldn't have let him eat.

It was the only thing Percy could think about all lunch. Even with Triton next to him poking him to finish his food, and even with Kym across the table trying to make him laugh.

Gabe always knew when he'd made Big Trouble. Triton and Kym hadn't even let Percy clean up the mess before whisking him off to hang out with Dad. It wouldn't matter that Percy was sorry. He sat on his fingers when his plate was clear, so no one could see how his hands had started shaking again.

He tried to listen to the lively conversation around him. It was hard when his imagination placed a fake Gabe standing behind him, waiting. Percy didn't know when Gabe or Mama would come down to Atlantis to pick him up, when one of his siblings or Dad would tell them about his time here. Tell Gabe about the Big Trouble.

He hoped they would wait a while to talk to Gabe.

The center of that writhing anxiety in his chest whispered that the Big Trouble would be the first thing they brought up.

A hand came to rest on his back, warm and strong. Percy startled a little, looking up. Dad was watching him, eyes open and curious. His thumb brushed little circles on his shoulder blade, and the world made a little more sense.

"Have you had enough to eat, Percy?" Dad asked. When Percy nodded, he leaned past Percy to catch Triton's attention.

"I bookmarked the items I need done by this afternoon, Triton. I need to have a private conversation with Percy, can you make progress on those while I'm busy with him?"

Triton bowed his head. "Yes, Father."

Percy stared down at his empty plate, dread flooding his whole body with ice. Triton said Dad wouldn't be mad at him! He'd let Percy eat, even! He'd said he didn't care about the pot! What had changed? When had Percy made him mad!? Why did they need a private talk? That never meant anything good!

The hand on his back rose to ruffle his hair. He heard Dad asking him to come with him, felt his body slide off his chair to comply through growing static in every inch of his body. They'd barely left the dining hall before Dad paused, turning to look at him again.

"Percy," he said seriously, bending down to bring his face near Percy's. It was hard to look at his face, to see anything. It was like there was fog everywhere, in the way. "I need you to breathe, son. Big breath now."

Percy heaved in a breath; suddenly so afraid that tears stung his eyes and his knees went weak. Dad was so big, and he was so strong, and Percy knew that if he smacked him, it'd hurt so much worse than Gabe smacking him.

Dad's hands grabbed him beneath his armpits, sweeping him up off his feet and against Dad's chest again. Percy was able to take a second breath the moment Dad's hand cradled the back of his head, and then a third. Percy closed his eyes and shoved his face into Dad's neck. The dark was safer. Percy shook at the thought that Dad was mad but couldn't bring himself to run. Not when the only other person that made him feel so safe was his Mama, and he didn't know where she was.

Dad was swimming again. Percy didn't dare ask where to. When Dad sat down, Percy braced for the conversation to start and all the good things here to go away. He could already smell the awful beer Gabe always drank.

Dad hummed a low note and then sang in that other language. It was slow and gentle, the rumble of his voice vibrating through Percy's whole being. It clashed with his own shaking, challenging it. Only one of them could exist, and Dad was stronger than Percy.

The thing about being afraid is that, once you're staring it in the face, there's only so long that it can last. You can only tell the same joke a handful of times before it loses its humor. You can only be afraid of the same thing so many times before it erodes.

Percy had been scared of Dad turning out to be a father like Gabe all week. But Gabe didn't kiss his forehead to wake him up. Gabe didn't hold him while he dragged his mind out of the dredges of sleep. Gabe didn't read to him or make sure that Percy'd had enough to eat or make sure that others played nice with him.

Dad was bigger and stronger than anyone else he'd ever known.

And he hadn't tried to scare Percy. Not even before Percy'd learned he was his dad.

Eventually, Percy's fear eroded. Not erased completely, but enough that exhaustion seeped in and stilled his limbs. That was weird. He'd been allowed to sleep in all week, and even took a nap earlier. He was also sore all over. That was more normal - it always happened after Gabe had made him afraid like that.

Percy swallowed and decided that waiting would just make him more scared.

"Why am I in trouble?" He asked as loud as he could. The near whisper cracked halfway through. He pressed his face a bit harder into Dad's neck.

Dad made a sad noise, his arms tightening around Percy a bit more.

"You are not in trouble. I am not angry with you."

"But-"

Dad propped his chin on Percy's hair, his jaw pressing into Percy's head when he spoke. "I wanted to talk to you alone because I know you aren't going to want your brother and sisters to hear what we're going to talk about. I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be embarrassed or too shy to say what you wanted."

Percy found the bravery to pull back and look at Dad. He had no idea how to respond, so he just stared in hope Dad would keep talking.

Dad pressed their foreheads together. "I want to talk about Gabe."

Percy immediately recoiled, trying to pull back. Dad didn't let him, following until Percy let him press their foreheads together again. "I don't want to go back." The words slipped out, desperate and drawn from deep inside before Percy could decide whether or not to say them.

Dad's face was too close to see all of it, but the lines around his eye crinkled. "You won't ever see him again." He said honestly.

Percy pulled back, wide-eyed. This time, Dad let him. He was smiling sadly.

"How..." Percy began, unsure of what he even wanted to ask.

The smile faded. He glanced to the side, searching for words. After a few moments, Dad spoke slowly, feeling out the words as he said them. "Has your mother ever told you not to ask about something because it's not for you to worry about?"

Percy nodded slowly. "She says my job is to be a kid."

Dad mirrored his nod. His hand slipped from cradling his head and down to lace with the other at his back. "I know that this week has been new, and strange. I also know that no one's told you how you got to Atlantis or answered your questions about how long you're going to be here. I bet that's been a bit worrying, not knowing when you're going to go back."

Percy nodded again, suddenly voiceless with longing for his Mama. Dad seemed to sense it. His big presence grew more intense, and then Percy could feel it inside his skin. The homesickness and the worry eased; it was suddenly a lot easier to be brave. He knew, somehow, that Dad was reaching inside his heart and giving him some of his own bravery, smoothing over his worry with his own surety that things would be okay.

"Your mother knows that you are here, and that she can come get you or spend time whenever she wants." Dad said. "I asked her for some time with you, because I love you as much as your mother does."

Percy frowned at him. "But how do you know that I won't see Gabe again? What if he comes here?"

Dad laughed once, caught himself, and looked away with a helpless smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to laugh. Gabe can't breathe underwater."

Percy frowned more. "But I'm breathing, and I'm not a mermaid like you or Kym or Solaris."

"You're my son. Gabe is not. That's why you can breathe here, and he would choke."

"Mama's not your kid."

"I like your mother. I can make sure she can breathe."

Percy grabbed Dad's necklace and ran his thumbs over the pendent, thinking hard. Dad let him absorb what they were talking about. It made sense, he guessed. He was glad they were alone, though. It meant he could ask Triton the same questions later without anyone teasing him for needing things repeated.

"So...you don't like Gabe?" he asked.

"Not one bit."

Percy glanced up at him. "I don't like him either," he admitted. Dad nodded, running a hand over Percy's hair.

"Was... Was Gabe mean to you too?"

"No. He was mean to you, and that's all that matters to me."

Something about that caught Percy's attention. He frowned at Dad again, puzzled. Dad let him think again, patient. "So... You don't want him here 'cause you don't like him?"

"Yes." Firm.

"And you don't like him 'cause he was mean to me."

"Yes." Even firmer.

"But...Mama lets him live with us even though he's mean to me. And he's mean to her too, sometimes."

Dad wilted a little. "That's a bit more complicated." Percy wilted right back. Adults didn't like explaining complicated things to him. Dad pulled one hand back to run it over his own face, looking at Percy for a long moment, pensive.

A thought occurred to Percy. "Dad? Am I... Did you bring me here so Mama could get rid of him?"

Dad didn't respond for a long minute. His gaze was calm and steady, though, so Percy didn't think he'd said anything bad.

"Your mother made sure that Gabe wouldn't come back, yes."

A sobbing laugh ripped from Percy's chest without any input from him. Before Percy knew it, he was sobbing uncontrollably into Dad's shoulder. Dad was rocking him, uncomplaining of Percy's choking grip around his neck and hands smoothing comforting circles on his back.

He was whispering encouragement and comfort into Percy's ear, soft praise and statements of love interspersed with reminders to breathe.

It took a long time before Percy cried himself out. He was half asleep by the time his hiccups stopped, throat dry and even more sore than before.

"Can I stay with you?" He croaked out, miserable for a reason he couldn't understand.

Dad nodded against his hair. "Yes, Darling. You're staying with me for the rest of today. I know it's been long already."

That was a relief. He was ready to go back to bed, and it was still the middle of the day.

Silence settled between them for a few minutes. Then, Dad's hand came to his shoulder and urged him back.

"There was one other thing I wanted to talk about." He laughed just a little at Percy's reflexive pout. "Peace, son. It's about me, this time."

Percy rubbed an eye. The seawater had carried his tears away as he'd shed them, but his eyes itched from crying all the same. "What about you?"

"Punishment for trouble. I wanted to talk about a bit about what I'm willing to do and what I won't do."

Part of him wanted to get anxious at the mention of punishments and trouble, but he was just too tired.

"You're pretty young, Percy," Dad said. "And because you're pretty young, if you get in trouble, I watch the discipline to match. Take the pot, for example. If you had knocked it over on purpose, I'd punish you by making you clean it up, firstly. Then, I'd have one of your siblings take you to the clay worker who made the pot, and order a new one to replace it."

Percy thought about that. "That's not big."

Dad shrugged. "Shoving a pot over on purpose isn't very big. Now, about things I won't do."

Dad waited for a response. When none came, he continued. "I know Triton already told you this, but I wanted you to hear it straight from me too. I don't care about what any group of dads came together and decided. There's nothing you could pay me, either, to care about what Gabe thought was a good or bad punishment."

Dad's voice was final and confident, his attention firm and comforting. "My own father was mean to me. He didn't care whether me and my brothers and sisters ate. I know what being hungry is like. I will never keep food from you. Ever. Not if you get into a little bit of trouble on accident. Not if you get into big trouble on purpose. Not when I'm angry with you. Never."

They stared at each other, and the truth in Dad's words sank in.

Dad was bigger and stronger than anyone else he'd ever known. Being in the same room as him felt a bit like he was being squished, a bit like Mama was hugging him really tight. It felt a bit like that time Percy had gotten so mad at Gabe backing him into a corner of the living room and shouting mean things that he'd shouted back, stomped on his toes and yanked so hard at Gabe's hair when he'd tried to pick Percy up that some of it came out.

Percy leaned up and kissed Dad's cheek. "I'm really glad you're my dad. You're pretty good at it."

Dad gave him a blinding grin. "I'm really glad you're my son. You're excellent at it."

They hugged yet again, and then rose to get themselves something to drink.

"Can we snitch a treat from the kitchen, too?" Percy asked, swinging their latched hands as they swam.

"That, son, is an excellent idea."

Chapter Text

Queen Amphitrite, eldest of the Nereids, goddess of the Seas and rich waters, husband to the Earthshaker, barely needed a glance at the skies to know her husband's mood had taken a sharp turn for fouler waters. The five sisters she was taking tea with also raised their gazes to the sky, one giggling behind her fingers.

"Looks like your dear husband misses your company," Halia said, grin growing behind her fingers. She winked flirtatiously, clearly implying something salacious. Amphitrite couldn’t be bothered to give her attention long enough to infer the precise implication. She was busy running over how the state of things had been when she’d left. There were several potential issues regarding the crop-rot in the south that could produce a response of this magnitude and speed.

She stretched her senses, feeling the eddies and flows of the stirring storms. No. This wasn’t political anger. This was personal; familial. She smiled at her sisters and responded before the silence could grow too long. “Not so, sister mine. That is a breed of anger that comes from wounds close to home.” She rose, brushing her clothes down. “I just hope that it isn’t Triton and Kymopoleia hurting each other again.”

Actaea hummed into her tea, eyes half-lidded in deep thought. “I’ll fetch your daughter while you pack, make sure she knows the two of you will be leaving early. Little Kymmie’s reinstated position in Atlantis isn’t something to be left unattended for too long.” She was up and wandering into the house proper before Amphitrite could thank her.

Amphitrite agreed whole-heartedly, and she worried over her daughter as she made her excuses and returned to her rooms to pack. Perseus, Poseidon’s latest mortal child, had uncovered a depth of wound she’d been shocked to learn. Were they angry with Kymopoleia for the idiotic, dangerous stunt she’d pulled in a politically delicate situation? A stunt which resulted in costly ripples they were still feeling all these centuries later? Yes.

But Perseus had come to his father after the end of the Second Giant War and told them of Kymopoleia’s fear of being forgotten. Of Fading. How she’d been living in the ruins of the old palace, lonely and bitter.

That hadn’t been the intention of her and Poseidon’s punishment. It was a simple matter to use Perseus’ move to Atlantis as reason to soothe court tempers concerning Kymopoleia’s reinstatement as an official member of the royal family. There would be tempers to smooth for decades yet, long past Perseus’s short lifespan, but his presence was a boon for easing things now.

There were still members of the court that wished Kymopoleia gone - and had no qualms with driving wedges between her and other members of the royal family. She pondered which member of the court could have angered Poseidon performing such a move. She'd taken this vacation because she'd thought none would in the weeks she was gone, but apparently she was mistaken.

Benthesikyme knocked, bag in hand. Amphitrite wasn’t surprised to see her ready to go so soon; the squabbles and comments Benthesikyme had had over the visit meant she was eager to take any excuse to cut things short. Amphitrite waved her in with one hand, stacking books into her bag with the other. “It’s Kymopoleia and Triton again, isn’t it?” Benthesikyme asked quietly.

“I’m not sure. It’s either family or that crop-rot, likely.” She replied, closing the bag.

“I swear, it seems like the more centuries Triton gets under his belt, the snottier he gets with us.”

Amphitrite sighed. “Benthesikyme.”

“I know, I know. I’m just… ready to have a year or two without speaking to anyone, after this.”

“Thank you for trying. I know that my father can be difficult to get along with, at times.”

Benthesikyme nodded without another word, grabbing her bags off the floor to follow Amphitrite to their chariot. It was a quiet, easy trip back to Atlantis, and Amphitrite only paused long enough to watch her daughter disappear into the depths of the palace for solitude and glance over her appearance in her chambers before searching the Palace for the almost certainly fuming King.

Poseidon’s lazy grin caught her entirely off guard.

He was lounging in the throne room, a smug, proud smile lingering about his lips. His posture and expression were relaxed in a way she usually only saw when Poseidon was spending time with his young children – the ones still small enough to require extra attention. She glanced at his tail, noted the long, almost serpentine shape that allowed him to coil protective circles on the floor next to him.

She swam closer, eyebrows raised suspiciously. He hadn’t been gallivanting with mortals or nymphs that he’d told her. The youngest of his children should be Tyson and Perseus, who were well old enough not to need his attention overmuch.

“My Dear Queen,” Poseidon said brightly, eyes crinkling with deep-seated joy. “My Eternal Love. Welcome home. I’m sorry to have pulled you away from your visit with my temper, but I am glad to see my beautiful wife nonetheless.”

…He definitely had a small child who likes him in that coiled tail, hidden behind the flowing fins.

She glanced at Captain Zale. The Humpback-tailed merman was looking downwards, into the coil of Poseidon’s tail. She watched, eyebrows climbing higher, as the guard lifted the butt of his spear off the floor and used it to prod at something inside the coil.

“Poseidon,” she said neutrally. “I wasn’t aware of any new offspring of yours.” The implication that he’d gone behind her back instead of keeping her appraised like they’d agreed weighed heavy in the water. It certainly cut the smile from his lips. For a few seconds, anyways.

He shook his head. “You know of all my dalliances, my Queen. This is a more… unique situation.”

Amphitrite stared for a second. Had he snatched someone else’s child as his own or some other insanity? She decided to observe the mystery child before she replied further.

When she approached, she blinked for a few seconds. It was Perseus. It took only a moment of observing the soul inside the demigod to confirm it. He even had the white hair streak from bearing the sky.

Unique indeed. It wasn’t everyday that mortals aged backwards.

Perseus blinked sleepily up at her. Poseidon had brought a blanket and pillows to cushion his seat on the floor, making a little nest around the boy. He was leaning back against one coil, with another going over his lap and providing support for a little coral board.

He was using stones and crabs on the board to play a game with Captain Zale. He hadn’t been prodding the child but moving game pieces with his spear. Exhaustion pulled at the child’s frame, clinging to every movement as Perseus shifted under her scrutiny.

“Hi,” he said timidly, voice near inaudible. Amphitrite examined him for a few seconds more. It was apparently too much attention for the boy; he went from shifting to shrinking back against Poseidon’s tail. He even grabbed at a fin to hide behind.

She pulled back, looking to Poseidon for an explanation. If the child found her intimidating, then it was best not to force him to speak with her. Especially when her husband well knew what her speaking look demanded.

There was a tinge of grief in his eyes, behind the smile. His anger still lashed the storms on the surface, but there was no evidence of it here. Something unpleasant had happened, and it had cut her husband to the quick. He shook his head and switched from English to Atlantean.

“You are already aware of how much it pained me - to stay away from the boy when he was young. That I worried my keeping such a strict distance allowed opportunity for misfortune I do not usually allow. He had a run-in with creatures of my father’s creation, and it brought to the surface wounds of childhood even I would not inflict at my worst.”

Poseidon’s joy waned with each sentence, and his tail tightened around Perseus. It maneuvered the child to lay instead of sit, a position that encouraged sleep. Perseus gave a soft sigh, clearly enjoying the careful affection. Amphitrite closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the surge of grief to move through her and subside. Child abuse, had to be.

Well. At least it was a less complex problem then getting her children to stop fighting or negotiating contracts. Not really better, but less complex.

“Triton has the full story,” Poseidon continued when she met his gaze again. “It is not something I am willing to discuss here, with my son so worn thin from the day. The temper that brought you back stemmed from learning of his fears in detail. Of witnessing his grief and his relief when told the monsters of his past cannot hurt him here.”

She nodded slowly. “I shall consult him, then.” She looked back at Perseus. He was quietly fighting sleep, fingers fidgeting with a fin, running them along the texture curiously. He adjusted, relaxing deeper into Poseidon’s grip. Her husband’s tail fins twitched happily, and she looked back at his face to see the smug pride leaking back into his eyes.

She bowed to him and swam for Triton’s offices, shaking her head. His Littles snuggling up to him was something that could draw Poseidon from even the worst of his moods. He prided himself on being a father that his Littles liked spending time with, on being better than his own father ever was. He loved taking care of his children just as deeply as her, or ruling Atlantis, or pranking his brothers, or taking vengeance on those who were foolish enough to anger him.

She controlled the blush in her cheeks with a thought. Seeing him delight in his children always brought her joy, whether they were hers or not. Though, the timid look Perseus had given her… What “wounds of childhood” had angered her husband so?

She heard a cry from one of the open windows she passed. A passing merman was shaking bits of food off his head and shoulders, bewildered. It barely took effort to feel the currents twitching with Kymopoleia’s delight. She slowed, coming to a stop just before Triton’s office door, watching through the partially open door.

Kymopoleia had a long metal object in her hands, clearly mortal in origin. Amphitrite didn’t know the name of it, but Kymopoleia was clearly having good fun with it. She was waiting for unsuspecting civilians to swim by the open window and using the metal stick to thwack handfuls of Triton’s snacks at them.

“I like this ‘baseball bat,’” she declared as a passing servant flipped over backwards, covering in chunks of food. “Are you sure it will stand up to smashing the statue’s head off, though?”

Rhode shrugged, hovering over Triton’s shoulder and frowning at paperwork in front of them. “I’ve seen them used on living mortals just fine, but the bats tend to be hollow – it might dent.”

Triton looked back and forth between two papers and grumbled. “I do not understand why there are so many regulations on the sale of art from this facility. Surely this museum has enough statues to simply replace the one we’ll be purchasing.”

Rhode pointed to something. “What about that charity clause, there? They might be more willing to auction off their art pieces if it’s for some form of charity.”

Triton read what she pointed to. “We may have to manipulate the Mist,” he said, weighing his options, “in order to guarantee that a charity sale includes the correct statue. Are we sure that Percy’s mother gave us the correct artifact number? Percy did not mention there being other men involved and the statue in question has four mortals…”

Kymopoleia groaned, tossing the bat aside carelessly. “Percy barely spoke of what happened to him at all. I doubt he’ll be more willing to speak of what those pathetic mortals did to him when he’s back to normal.”

Amphitrite frowned in confusion. What did a statue have anything to do with what had happened to Perseus? Why were three of her godly children discussing buying a random statue? She’d set her hand on the door to push it open when Kymopoleia continued.

“I’m so mad that Father allowed some puny mortals to starve him.” Amphitrite paused to listen to Kymopoleia. “I have thick enough hide to shrug off his indifference to my own suffering, but the guppy is so…small.” She hugged herself, a vulnerability in her frown that Amphitrite rarely saw from her. Triton looked up, giving her his full attention.

“I just-” Kymopoleia laughed harshly. “He knew that Percy was almost certainly prophesied to die as a child. Why was he also fine with letting the mortals break our laws and rob him of the only peaceful time he was guaranteed to have? Has Father really changed that much since he sent me away?”

Rhode made a low, mournful sound. “You did not see Father’s frustration. The oath not to sire demigods meant he had to keep much further distance than he’d wanted to. He loathed having to stand back and miss so much of Percy’s youth. It’s part of why Father was so enthusiastic when Percy accepted the offer to move here. Making up for lost time, you know?”

Kymopoleia gave her a disbelieving look. Rhode held up her hands in a helpless gesture. “I wish that Percy hadn’t been hurt by those mortals either. It’s awful, seeing him shiver and flinch from the slightest hints of anger. It was terrible listening to his mother’s descriptions of past transgressions. If it were a century ago, Father would have brought Percy to us the first time that he hid to get away from that man.”

Kymopoleia softened, accepting Rhode's words with a nod. “I hope he goes back to normal soon.”

“Another week at most,” Triton said. His gaze drifted away from his sisters. He made eye contact with her, and Amphitrite tipped her head in duel greeting and inquiry. There’s a sadness in him that’s just as rare as Kymopoleia’s openness.

“Mother. Welcome home,” Triton said. Kymopoleia’s soft expression melted away as Amphitrite entered the room, but she’s not hostile either. It’s an improvement. She’ll take it.

“My son. My daughters.” Each of them accept Amphitrite’s hand on their cheeks, and she settled in a free seat. “Your father sent me to you three when I found him with Perseus in the throne room. Said that it wasn’t a subject to discuss around the child?”

Triton nodded. “We just got Percy to believe he’s not in trouble for an accident. I do not blame Father for taking precaution against his mistaking your anger on Percy’s behalf as danger towards himself.”

Amphitrite folds her hands in her lap and suppresses the scowl that his words summon. As if she’d hurt one of hers or Poseidon’s children.

Kymopoleia tells the story of the past week. It was a tale that did not include any statues. She reached for the papers that Triton had been pouring over. “What does the purchase of a statue made by his mother have to do with this?”

“The end of the man’s torment of Percy,” Triton answered. “He gifted his mother Medusa’s head after his first quest, and she used it on the wretched thing. We were all disappointed that Gabriel is already in Uncle Hades’ jurisdiction.”

Amphitrite laughed lightly. “I suppose that’s not overly poor compensation, of available options.”

Kymopoleia flipped the bat around a few times with a vicious grin. “Rhode even gifted me a new toy to try out on the thing.”

Amphitrite examined the bat, listened to her children plan on how to get Gabriel’s statue, and took a breath. Perhaps she should visit with the child after all. This was a peace between her godly children that was rare. A few decades of this peace was worth the effort to know Perseus, in her opinion.

That started with calling him the nickname he preferred. “What desserts has Percy shown a preference for?” She asked innocently. Triton shot her a knowing look. He answered, dutiful as always. Chocolate chip cookies required baking, and she was curious if she could get her godly children playing while they helped. How far could this peace stretch? Was it really so simple as adding the little one?

If Percy’s heart was what their family was missing… She knew he’d turned down immortality once, but perhaps there was a way to change his mind on the matter. Something for when he was grown again, she supposed. For now, she simply enjoyed that her family was whole.