Work Text:
Title: Legends are Based in Truth; The Impertinent Sea can be tamed.
Summary: Instead of allowing his son to leave his side upon surrendering to his Brother, Poseidon keeps him close, if only for a fortnight or two, because his Brother is a Vain God and he has no doubts pertaining to the matter that he will not attempt to strike his youngest son dead in his Euphoric False Victory. Percy doesn’t seem to mind the sudden protectiveness. He doesn’t know his Fath–Dad. At least he’ll get to learn about him now. And get answers.
(Notes: this is the show version of Poseidon and Percy)
….
After meeting his Uncle, Percy’s not impressed and ponders the consequences of kicking the guy’s family jewels, his dad, Poseidon ushers him quickly from the Throne Room of the Gods. With haste he’s turning corners and being led down various halls, passing all sort of things he’s never seen before but in the book mom had always had on hand and read to him for as long as he can remember.
“I sent word to your mother, your other Uncle is rather amused with your daring and he’s good on keeping to his work, she rests safe and sound within her bed as we speak.” Poseidon whispers in his ear with a tone that rumbles like an undersea shift of the sea bottom. “She is protected, you on the other hand, my Younger Brother is vain and, as you would say, trigger happy. I have no doubts should you return to your mother this night and quite possibly the next he won’t make an attempt to strike you dead while away from my side. As I said, Zues is Vain and Barbaric.”
Percy can hardly get a word in edgewise, despite his best efforts, he’s ushered into a sizable but small stone temple. First assumptions is that it’s his father’s place of residence when his presence on Olympus doesn’t allow him to return to his home under the waves. It’s a tad overwhelming to be suddenly ambushed by a slight group of women, beautiful to the very definition, and he’s not ashamed to say he backs up a step until he feels himself forced to a stop as he bumps into Poseidon’s chest behind him. “Who–”
“The Naiads will ensure to see you bathed properly, after the events of your quest, I mean this as kindly as I can put it, you are in dire need of proper bathing.” Hands curl over his small shoulders and squeeze soothingly, thumbs massaging into the tense muscle slightly, and the rough tufts of a small beard brush over his ear and cheek as his dad leans in to whisper soothingly. “These are relatives of your stepmother, my wife, Amphitrite sent them personally to see to your care. You are safe.”
He can’t help it, stunned and perhaps a tad shocked after all that transpired. “She–She doesn’t hate me?”
“My Wife is not like those of the rest, though her anger may rise it only ever be directed at myself, she has for my Land Born children nothing but care.” Percy turns his head slightly to meet his dad’s eyes. They twinkle with unbridled elated happiness and he can’t help but give a small smile of which the god returns with one of his own. “She does not hold anger for children who can’t help who their parents are. Amphitrite desires to meet you, my youngest child, but when the times are far less tense.”
Percy is still nervous, even with his dad’s assurances, but allows the ones sent to see to his care personally by his stepmother to usher him away for bathing. They’re soft spoken, gentle as they brush over his skin with soft sponge-like objects, the water is warm and steamy offering soothing relief to the tense muscles. They say nothing of any wear upon his bare flesh far too old to be of the quest he’d just completed. Fingers as gentle as a droplet of water streaking down the cheek from the skies above before the rain storm opens upon the poor unfortunate souls trace over scars embedded into his skin aged and healed long before any of this became his lifestyle.
None of them speak on their findings. They’ll probably tell his dad though.
After bathing, he’s dressed, a simple white chiton that rests just about his knees with dark blue designs embroidered around the edges. Nothing more. As Apollo has turned the skies over to Artemis in the time he was being washed and the moon shines inordinately bright upon the temple he resides in.
“I’ve waited so very long to be able to do this.” Percy can only blink as he’s being pulled into a tight embrace, tension is expected, but the Demi-god melts into his dad’s chest, sinking into the warmth and comforting scent of the sea salt that surrounds them. Tears may or may not soak the front of the god’s own chiton staining the cotton fabric, a hand curls around the back of his head, Poseidon comforts whether then admonishes for his moment of weakness. “I’ve always been watching over for you, Mikroúli Mou.”
Not wanting to pull away from the warmth, he doesn’t, small eleven year old Percy Jackson sinks further into Poseidon’s embrace. “Little One?”
“My youngest. How I’ve longed to hold you in my arms since our very first meeting in the nursery the night you were born.” Poseidon presses his lips to the boy’s temple and murmurs. “To mikro mou agori.” Tears do not make his eyes burn, they don't, boys eleven years old do not cry at being called their dad’s baby boy. “I want to know all there is to know. Tell me everything , I wish to know my son as I should have long before our meeting this fateful night,” the god raises away from his temple to press their foreheads together. “I desire most in this world to know my youngest son .”
Percy can’t help the way he nuzzle into his dad’s chest, it’s been a long day, a long week, just a long everything . “Even the bad stuff?”
“Everything about you, my son, the good and the bad,”
And that’s how they find themselves laying together on the biggest bed the boy has ever laid his eyes on, snacking on grecian snacks of old and snacks of his time, simply talking. Sharing the important bits of each other and the minute bits that others may see as trivial. “They blamed me for it! I was told to pull the lever!” Percy feels the indignant need to defend himself at his dad’s uproarious laughter, scowling as the god throws his head back, a deep belly laugh of immense amusement, and smacks him on the belly when the laughing doesn’t stop in the next minute. “It’s not funny dad! They were so mad! Yelled at me for hours and I’m pretty sure one or more of the sharks said they’d eat them if I just asked them to!”
Poseidon takes a moment to collect himself, to regain partial composure, and wipes a hand down his face. “I disagree, the sharks knew exactly what they were doing, I have no doubts they made you assume it was one of the Park Attendees that told you to pull the lever you did.” The scowl doesn’t have the effect it should as he’s squeezed into the immortal side tightly. “They simply wanted to meet the youngest sea prince.”
“You’re a jerk.” Petulant as any child his age, despite the fact he’s contentedly wrapped up in his new found Actual father’s embrace, totally enjoying the feeling of large warm arms curled around him from behind and the soft breeze coming from the sea just beyond them a few paces and down a set of ornate carved stone steps. “Can’t believe I finally get to meet my dad and he’s… Fuck you .” Percy Jackson goes back to his roots. Mortal roots. When in doubt. “Asshole.”
“Pardon?” Perhaps this is the moment his brain decides to catch up with his mouth as his dad’s soft voice rumbles against his back. “ What did you just call me?” This is the real first meeting with his father and Percy has just insulted him in the most crude manner. Was this when things turned sour, Poseidon deny his claim of him, turn him away, oh lords even allow Zeus to do as he had initially desired in striking him dead. “Well, I must say, your siblings have far different words to spit at me when angered and I meet each one of my children in different manners when they think to throw such vulgar terms to my name. Now, I think with you however…”
There’s a moment of relief that the arms, big and strong and far more better then Smelly Gabe, don’t release their boarderlining cuddling embrace which tells Percy that Posiedon isn’t so mad at being called such a bad word as to disown him on the spot. That also being said, the Demi-God of the Sea shrieks with laughter, squealing once for a long breath as he arches his back away from his father’s chest, squirming and shrieking with a kind of childlike innocence Posiedon is sure his son has experienced freely in far too long a time. Being in the just as cuddly position begins a cuddly restriction, a snuggled up imprisonment as fingers dig and claw into his sides with just the right amount of pressure that has the eleven year old in stitches.
“My my, such a ticklish little thing you are.” Poseidon smiles, a soft gentle expression coming over his features, to the sound of his youngest son’s boyish peals of laughter. A rare sound from this particular youth, as he’s watched from afar, his poor boy hasn’t lived the life he’s deserved. Sally Jackson will always hold Love within his immortal heart, the mother of his youngest and only Land-Born child but he can’t help the sliver of anger that comes to heart at the knowledge that the beast disguised as a man was harming his son, she had to have known, and despite the wisdom in finding a mortal who could overcome the scent of his son to monsters who’d kill him ruthlessly–he’d told her more than once to send their child to Camp. “I’ve seemingly forgotten how much I truly love having children, it is as they say, your little ones are only young for so long.”
Percy starts to kick, squealing with laughter, lips curled in such a way they haven’t been since before Smelly Gabe came into the picture, the arms loosen enough to allow him to inevitably kick hard enough that he slides down in his dad’s lap. “Dad! Dad no! I’m sorry! Pffff sohohoho sorry!” English seems to get him nowhere as his father leans forward and pokes around his tummy experimentally. As though to see if it produced a reaction worth giving full attention to. It does. Large gentle fingers claw in and vibrate, the boy with the seas in his blood squeals brightly, reaching desperately to push at the god he’s laying upon before trying to capture his tan hands that evade him with seemingly far too practiced ease. "Μπαμπά! Μπαμπά! Όχι εκεί! Γαργαλίζει! Το παίρνω πίσω! Πάρτο πίσω!"
This only garners him soft chuckles, Poseidon shifts the position of his legs from which the child falls entrapped between them, clawing one final time before lifting his hands. Percy gulps for air while giggling wildly, a difficult task to do given the one facing the other, because though those fingers no longer torment his tummy they loom there dangerously. “You take it back? I accept your apology, my αγαπημένο αγοράκι.” The little one thoroughly ensnared in the Sea God’s keeping giggles frantically when the deity who played a major part in his creation slowly begins to wiggle his fingers. “I know your mother taught you well on your heritage, so to test your knowledge, I want you to tell me about your family waiting anxiously to meet their youngest Prince.” The Demi-God squeals when those hands begin to lower once more, fingers still wiggling, right for his tummy below once again. “Διαφώτισέ με σε όλα όσα ξέρεις, ενώ βλέπω πόσο γαργαλητό είναι πραγματικά η κοιλιά σου, αν τραυλίζεις έστω και μια φορά, πρέπει να ξαναρχίσεις”
…..
Least to say, he had to restart a number of times, he knows of only two times he stuttered, dad says he did four other times and he was forced to restart but Percy’s sure that was only an excuse to explore his torso to see where he could garner the most reaction.
He fell asleep feeling light after laughing so hard for such a long span of time, his head resting on a chest that rose and fell steadily, a thin blanket pulled up over them and fingers scratching through his curls. Most preteens his age would gawk and fume at the mere thought of sleeping snuggled up in their mom or dad’s arms, he’s not most preteens, Percy has no issue whatsoever as he’d nodded into his dad’s chest as sleep slowly overtook him to the comforting embrace and soft humming of a lullaby in a language he doesn’t know.
So very sure he’d wake up in his bed, mom coming to see to waking him up, Percy doesn’t want to open his eyes. “My little starfish, Ξέρω ότι είσαι ξύπνιος, παιδί μου. ” He feels a calloused gentle thumb brush over his cheek. “Rest though, you’ve been through quite an ordeal, I will keep you one more night before returning you to your mother.” The Thumb brushing over his cheek tugs lightly at his ear. “I will return you personally. I love your mother, never doubt that, but there are words I wish to have with her.”
Not being able to actually wander around and explore Mount Olympus due to his Uncle’s not-so-unspoken threat, that also said, exploring his father’s temple is entertaining enough. Twice around and he’s seen everything there is to see which leads him to boredom. Percy Jackson and boredom don’t typically mix, something Posiedon picked up on rather quickly when a vase near centuries old ended up shattered on the floor under foot, anger was not the emotion he felt first. Despite what most parents would come to immediately, no raging, no yelling, it was no secret how he truly cherished his children.
And this was his youngest. Poseidon knew the needs of all his children. So he suggested a game.
Now Percy was no longer discouraged about being contained within his dad’s temple. A simple game of hide and seek, between the Second Strongest God in existence and his half-mortal child. If one were to ever imagine the Great God God Poseidon playing such a frivolous game with a young child, even if that child was of his own siring, it would be a laughable image to imagine.
Yet here they were.
“No wait!” Yoinked out of his hiding spot where someone without the ability to truly get to his high hiding spot, Percy shrieks, kicking when dad cradles him in his arms with ease. “You cheated! “Παππά, απάτησες!”
His dad gives a mock affronted gasp. “You’d dare to accuse me of such cowardice ?” Poseidon's eyes shimmer with enamored amusement as he glances down at his son, shining sea glass eyes meet his, a smile that should have been ever present on the boys. "Δεν ήταν δύσκολο να σε εντοπίσω. Σου έχει πει ποτέ κανείς ότι το γέλιο σου σε κάνει μακριά;"
“Only because I trust you. I can be so quiet you won’t even know I’m there.” Percy reaches up to rub his finger over the brooch on his fathers shoulder. “I can be really good at hiding.”
“I believe wholeheartedly you are very well versed in the act of hiding.” Poseidon adjusts his hold on the boy, bouncing him testingly for a moment, much to the youth’s delight, before tossing him up which entices a shriek from him, and Percy smiles as he settles securely on his dad’s right arm. “You may not have seen me, but I’ve always been watching, keeping a careful eye on my youngest child.”
……
There’s no better way to broach what most would call a touchy subject then to be blunt about it, a soft edge, but blunt. All he truly does is bring up the scars long since etched in his son’s skin that those tending to him on the first night had noticed and Poseidon’s catching the boy as he throws himself around, certainly shocked at the suddenness of it, though the action is unexpected there’s no stumbling in the expected reaction from him, the Greek God swiftly lifts his boy off his feet.
This is not what he’d desired when simply inquiring.
Through tears and breaking sobs the child just opens. Like a dam holding back thousands upon thousands of gallons of water, once the first word comes out, the child can’t seem to stop. Giving ever sickening details of the man that was meant to be there as a father while Poseidon could not be himself. Of course hearing of the abuse his son, beloved littlest of his family, suffered under the hands of a mortal the first reaction is fury. Enraged the Sea God closes his eyes, allowing himself a moment to relish in the weight of the sniffling child resting his head on his shoulder and the burden of his holding him entirely in an embrace. Legs hanging limp at his sides as the energy has seemingly abandoned him all too entirely in far too a real sentiment, little arms curled loosely around his shoulders, Poseidon subtly ducks into his son’s curls as his lips brush over the side of his neck.
He is a father before anything else, before being King of Atlantis, even before being God of the Seas, he is a father first and foremost and this is the one child of his that has been so close to him and yet still so far out of his reach.
Poseidon will not put his beloved youngest child down until the boy himself asks him to. “Σ'αγαπώ, μικρή μου, τόσο πολύ.” He whispers in the child’s ear and the only indication that the boy hears his words is when he nods only just into his shoulder. “Σε αγαπώ με όλο μου το είναι από την ημέρα που γεννήθηκες.” Spoken from the heart. “Εσύ, πολύτιμο παιδί μου, δεν είσαι και δεν έκανες ποτέ λάθος.” Percy turns his head from his shoulder, tufts of freshly washed curls brush against the side of his neck as the child rests his head upon his chest in response to his words. “Πολύτιμο μωρό μου, μην αμφιβάλλεις ποτέ ότι η αγάπη μου για σένα θα κάνει οτιδήποτε άλλο παρά να μεγαλώσει.”
A small tired voice reaches back. “Κι εγώ σε αγαπώ μπαμπά.”
Not once in the history ever recorded have the seas been so calm.