Chapter Text
The doors of the throne room opened as Poseidon approached, permitting his entrance with ease. The Twelve thrones were empty, of course, as there wasn’t a meeting meant to take place. Poseidon knew that all he would need to do to summon the others was to sit upon his throne, though he was sure they were already aware of his presence.
Except, summoning the others was not his intention.
Rather, he walked through the hall of the gods until he reached the center, where a woman sat tending the fire.
“Good day, sister,” he called to her. “Might I join you?”
His oldest sister turned to face him. She was still in the form of a nine year old girl, dressed in brown with her preferred brown head scarf. As she turned to face him, Poseidon noticed the joy in her red-gold eyes, seeming to alight them like her flames.
“Of course, brother. You are always welcome at my hearth.”
Poseidon sat himself down beside his sister. The warmth of her hearth filled him with a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. He could practically feel the tension bleed out of his physical form. Hestia, pleased, leaned over to rest her head against his arm, wrapping her hands around that same arm. Poseidon reached over with his free hand to rest his hand over hers.
They sat there for an unknown amount of time, just basking in the presence of the other. Poseidon remembered a time, millennia ago, when he and his siblings would simply gather at their sister’s hearth. Peaceful times.
It had been so long since those times.
“Poseidon, what brought you to me?”
Hestia called to him, her voice warm; free of accusation and judgment as his other siblings, nieces, nephews, and children often used in their tone. Her tone alone coaxed Poseidon to lean his head atop his sister’s. Pressing a kiss to her crown.
“Can I not just come visit my sister,” Poseidon teased.
Hestia gave him an amused, faux-annoyed smile, easily calling him out.
Poseidon sighed. “Things are changing, my sister. The Fates, themselves, have asked me to oversee that change.”
And suddenly Hestia was sitting up fully, grip on his arm tightening as her flaming gold eyes met his tired sea-green. She searched his face, searching for something. Whatever she was looking for, she seemed to find it. That alone seemed to horrify her.
“What have they done to you, brother?” his sister demanded. “You are older than you should be.”
Poseidon ducked his head, avoiding her gaze.
“I believe you have already answered your question, sister.”
“But that is-!”
“Our dear Father’s domain?” Poseidon lamented. “Yes. Though I admit, I am unsure if he is aware of the manipulation done in his domain in this timeline.”
“Our father is rising, then?”
Poseidon paused. Honestly, he should not have been surprised as he was. His sister sat by the hearth in any home that would allow her. Of course his sister had seen the signs before the rest of them. Not that they would have listened to her if she had approached them.
But there was a reason she was Perseus’ favorite aunt and god.
“He will rise, yes,” Poseidon kept his voice low. “I dare not speak more of the future I have bore witness to. I don’t know how that will affect things that will come to pass. But know I am… unconcerned with our Father’s rising at the moment. We must prepare, of course, and my people are already doing so, but… I trust the current child of prophecy.”
“Then… there is something more than Father?” Hestia asked.
“Far, far more,” Poseidon confessed. “The birth of the children against our Oath on the Styx has cursed our children. Hades is truly the only one who has kept that oath.”
Hestia sucked in a breath.
“Then-”
Poseidon’s smile turned soft. “He’s wonderful, Hestia. You were his favorite.”
Hestia blinked.
“But it is not my son or the chaos I witnessed that caused the Fates to send me back. In fact, I must admit I am unsure as to why I was sent back. Only the task I was given to… fix things. Bond With My Children and Family To Save Everyone.”
His poor dear sister was still utterly speechless, so Poseidon continued.
“I have already begun,” Poseidon said quickly, feeling flustered under his sister’s lack of response. “I started with my wife, trying to woo her. That… didn’t end well. Both Amphitrite and Triton were quickly suspicious of my actions. I must confess that I told them both more of the future than I have told you in my efforts to convince them my attempts were genuine. We have begun to try. I have talked to Rhode, and have spent time with her. I have finally reached out to Benthesikyme. And I have since reached out to Kymopoleia. I am… unsure if the Fates wish me to speak with my monster children, though I am certain they mean us gods, as well as our demigod, children.”
“You intend to go against our brother’s decree.”
“I do,” Poseidon said. “To save us from whatever horror the Fates foresaw, I would break the law a million times over.”
Poseidon let silence wash over them both, Hestia resting her head against his arm once more as she processed what Poseidon was telling her. She was worried, he could tell. The way her thumb gently brushed over his arm, gently fretting.
The only reason Poseidon began to stir was because he could feel his brother approaching.
“We should do this again, sister,” Poseidon told her gently. “But our dearest little brother is coming to question me, and there is much I must prepare before my son is revealed to the others.”
“I would love that,” Hestia declared.
Poseidon gave her one last smile before pressing a kiss to her crown once more. Of course, as Poseidon did this, Zeus threw open the doors, his power rippling through the air in clear agitation.
“Poseidon!” Zeus growled out. “What brings you to Olympus?”
Poseidon sighed as he stood, Hestia moving to stand with him. Poseidon’s gaze met his brother’s electric blues, and all Poseidon could feel as he looked upon his brother was exhaustion. So many years of war and manipulation and pain.
They were brothers. Brothers by blood. Born of the same mother and father. Forced to endure the similar trauma of their father’s betrayal.
And yet…
And yet two camps full of their children had a better understanding of what that brotherhood meant. His son, born and raised an only child, understood brotherhood better than most, mourned the death of someone who should have been his enemy by blood.
And for a second, Poseidon wasn’t staring at his brother. But rather, two children. One with dark black hair, and the other strikingly blonde. Both looking so much like their father, right down to their shockingly blue eyes.
Electric blue that were cloudy, having lost the will to see anything beyond the red and gold. Just like their father.
He quickly dismissed the image, filing it away for after this conversation.
“The Hearth does not reach Atlantis, brother,” Poseidon pointed out. “I found myself desiring the company of our eldest sister. And as I have promised to come by again soon, I’m afraid that means you’ll be seeing more of me on occasions.”
There was a scoff from behind Zeus, and the three turned to face Hera, standing in the doorway, obviously having followed her husband. Their sister looked most displeased.
“As if we are expected to believe such from you, brother,” Hera quipped, bitterly. “This fancy to see our sister has never struck you before.”
“Would you prefer me to swear on the Styx, sister?” Poseidon questioned, taking a page from his son’s book.
Hera looked torn between furious and as though she swallowed a frog.
As amusing as her expression was, again, Poseidon sighed, reaching to pat Hestia’s hand gently. Picking fights with his brother and sister was perhaps not what he should be doing to change whatever future the Fates wished to avoid.
“I have no desire for war, nor do I wish to claim your thrones, brother, sister,” Poseidon addressed them both carefully and sincerely. “It’s been centuries since I’ve had such a desire. Things have changed, and we have changed with them. If that leads me to want to spend more time with my family, then so be it. Hestia was… the only sibling I thought might be willing to tolerate my company, at the moment.”
His older sister and younger brother looked unimpressed with his reasoning. Poseidon knew his siblings well enough to know he should stop now. He knew Zeus and Hera would be the hardest to get through, too, but at least he could claim he made the first attempt by attempting to be honest.
It stung.
Regardless of their relationship in the future, to think his younger brother and older sister would think him so cruel, still. Not that he had done anything to dissuade any of their thoughts before his time travel. Yet their blatant rejection of the fact that he could have any sort of good will towards them hurt. Beyond, the sea warred with his heart.
“Very well, brother, sister. I’ll take my leave,” Poseidon stated before turning to Hestia. “I will come visit again. I swear it.”
Hestia, though distressed by the simmering argument, smiled warmly up at him.
“I look forward to it, little brother,” Hestia said, her voice as warm as her flames. “Will you tell me how things are progressing in Atlantis with your children?”
“I shall,” he agreed. “I planned to visit Rhode in person this weekend. Speaking of my daughter, I need to speak with Apollo for a moment.”
Hera scoffed. “What could you possibly need with him?”
Poseidon walked past his brother and sister, only pausing at Hera’s question.
“He is the god of medicine. If there is one I deem ill enough to require outside assistance, it is his expertise I should seek. And he happens to owe me a favor.”
And with that, Poseidon swept out of the throne room.
—------------------------------
Favors among the gods were not to be scoffed at. It would be foolish to pay a favor over something trivial. The favor Apollo currently owed Poseidon in this time was one Poseidon had actually cashed in the future. Because there had been a rather sudden outbreak in Atlantis. And while Poseidon was sure he recalled enough to deal with the outbreak as it came, he was just going to have to resign himself to owing Apollo a favor if his own attempts failed. But Poseidon could not bring himself to care that he was using this favor on something others would call trivial.
This was far more important than anything they could possibly understand.
The world was dark. So utterly dark, and yet it was alight with the steady stream of gold and red. The phantom feeling of two bodies flying into him. The lifeless gazes, one once electric, the other once as sea green as his own.
Poseidon shook the image from his mind and allowed himself to appear at the border of Camp-Half Blood. The place that would one day become his beloved son’s home. Poseidon’s presence did not go unnoticed by the god forced to watch over the camp. Though Poseidon noted his nephew didn’t bother to move just yet, going so far as to stop Chiron from approaching.
He would worry about Dionysus later. For now he needed to begin his own preparations. The Fates had been clear. Bond with his children and family. And there was something burning in Poseidon, telling him that the answer to the Fates’ request lay with the demigods most of all. And though not explicitly stated, Poseidon knew this meant nieces, nephews, and the likes, as well.
These people Percy would call family.
Speaking of family, Poseidon found himself rather surprised to see a familiar blonde leaning against his destination. She was younger than the last time he had seen her. If he had to guess, she had perhaps spent the night out here. She was wearing camp clothes, rather than pajamas, and her hair was in a tight ponytail. She looked almost peaceful, if not slightly uncomfortable, as a discarded book lay open in her lap, and the lantern at her hip still gave some light.
The peaceful expression of her sleep was a welcome sight, given the nightmares that often plagued his son’s future girlfriend.
Poseidon waved a hand over the girl’s book, careful to remove the morning dew from the pages so they wouldn’t be ruined. Despite his relationship with her mother, Poseidon held a fondness for Annabeth. Perhaps that was why he chose to wake her up as gently as possible.
“Annabeth Chase,” he spoke gently, coaxing her from Hypnos grasp. “It is time to wake. We would not wish you to get in trouble with Chiron, would we?”
The young girl blinked awake, body tensing as she sensed a foreign entity nearby. Poseidon wasn’t a fool, though. He knew the young girl had been running since she was seven, and that she had fought for her life far longer than that. As awareness came quickly, the girl reached for her knife, cursing when she couldn’t find it, and quickly shifting to use the book as a makeshift weapon.
Poseidon didn’t dare move from his spot, not wanting to alert the girl as she quickly rolled away and came back up in a crouch. Grey eyes locked with his sea green as Annabeth quickly blinked away the sleep from her mind, allowing the girl time to process what she was seeing.
“You-you’re a god,” she said, stuttering over her words.
“I am. Yes,” he told her gently. “And you, my dear, will be needed back at camp. Would you please fetch Dionysus for me. I have need to speak with my nephew.”
Annabeth blinked, the puzzle laid before her quickly falling into place. His presence brought no comfort to the girl as she shuffled closer to the tree. Poseidon could not blame her for her fears, even if such a reaction made him wince.
The girl before him was brave, but clearly not brave enough to challenge him. A fact that seemed to make the girl wilt as she moved to stand, nodding stiffly.
“Yes, Lord Poseidon,” she said.
Then she dashed back towards the Big House. If Poseidon knew her as he did in the future, he had no doubt she would be back, shortly. Best to get this done quickly, then.
“Geez Uncle, what did you do to her?” a cheery voice called from behind him as an arm flew around his shoulder.
“I woke her, Apollo,” Poseidon stated simply. “Anyone would find themselves unsettled when a foreign entity comes into their home and disturbs them, especially so close to one they call family.”
Poseidon turned to see his nephew staring at him with what Poseidon knew to be a “weirded-out” expression on his face.
“Rather morbid today, Uncle,” Apollo declared, allowing an easy smile to slip back onto his face. His nephew was clearly milking the fact that Poseidon hadn’t pushed Apollo away just yet, letting more of his weight lean against his uncle. “What brought these thoughts on?”
More than you will ever know, nephew.
Poseidon did not dare to say such a thing aloud. Apollo was the god of truth, and he would parse out any bit of knowledge Poseidon dared to drop. But that same passion for truth and knowledge was something Poseidon could use.
“What do you make of this tree, my dear nephew?” Poseidon asked cordially.
Apollo titled his head for a second, eyes narrowing, despite the smile still on his face. Of course Apollo knew what tree this was. All the gods did. Still, the breadcrumbs were too much for Apollo to ignore, and he was soon searching the tree for something different or off. Which gave plenty of time for Dionysus to appear beside them.
“Alright. I’m here. What do you want?” Dionysus paused as he watched Apollo appear to scale part of the tree, twisting in a way to squint at the bark like it personally offended him. “And what’s he doing?”
“Trying to parse out my question,” Poseidon said.
“And you need me for some riddle because…?”
“His gaze is not on us,” Poseidon waved about, motioning to the sheer lack of presence around them. “Do you not find that odd, Dionysus?”
“No offense, Uncle, but daddy dearest rarely cares about this camp,” Dionysus said, sipping from a glass of Diet Coke. “Why would he look?”
“Because his son is scaling the monument he created for his daughter.”
Dionysus paused in the act of taking another sip, his frown deepening.
Apollo, clearly listening, stopped his movement and instinctually glanced to the sky.
“You do raise a good point,” Apollo hopped down from the tree. “How strange. I assume you know the answer to this particular mystery, dear uncle?”
Poseidon raised a hand to the tree that was a monument to his niece. Or, what others assumed to be a monument or a tomb, but was in fact an assurance of life.
“I have always preferred boats of pine, and the scent of the burning wood as it was sacrificed to me to ensure the boat made of its wood would be blessed. Zeus could care less for such pleasures.”
Apollo had only a second to process those words before he yelped, jumping away from the tree as it twisted and moved at the roots. The tree moved to Poseidon’s beck and call, just as it had when it first grew, causing the once monument to release the soul it had guarded for years, now.
An act done of Poseidon’s own selfish ambition.
Thalia Grace’s eyes blinked open, staring up at the sky as she suddenly took her first breath of fresh air after five years. Her hands quickly moved to the place she had been wounded, only to find nothing there.
Her instincts kicked in after that, and she quickly stumbled to her feet, fumbling about for her weapon, for something, anything to defend herself with. Poseidon also registered the moment that desperation to fight in battle became a panicked fear at the lack of presence of her two companions. Poseidon quickly realized things would take a dark turn if her disoriented state continued and he approached the girl.
As he expected, Thalia activated her shield, Aegis, and she made to attack with it. It was child’s play for Poseidon to catch the shield. Thalia’s gaze quickly snapped up to him, a primal rage sparking under her skin, only to fizzle out as she began to process what had caught her.
“Peace, Thalia,” Poseidon stated calmly. “No one here will harm you. You are safe at camp, and your two companions are safely within the border.”
Thalia took several sharp breaths, the disbelief spreading across her face.
“I was dying.”
“Yes. You were.”
“And then my dad, he-”
“I have stopped the pain. You are healed, Thalia. Rest now. Your friends are waiting inside.”
Poseidon couldn’t pinpoint what part of his speech reached her, but the girl relaxed at his reassurances. But with that relaxation came the lack of adrenaline, and in a moment, Thalia collapsed, unconscious in his arms. Poseidon pulled her close, careful to not let her fall to the Earth.
“Uncle, what-?”
Ah. Yes. His company.
Lifting Thalia into a bridal carry, Poseidon approached Apollo and gracefully shoved the girl into his nephew’s arms.
“Congratulations, nephew,” Poseidon said, faux cheerfully to match Apollo’s earlier mood. “You have successfully found a way to rescue your near-dead sister from her piney imprisonment.”
Poseidon liked to think Percy would have appreciated his sarcasm in the moment.
“What?” Apollo repeated.
“This is the favor I ask of you, Apollo. You will take the credit for Thalia’s sudden resurrection from her tree. A grand idea struck you, and you have successfully managed to give your sister her life back. However, in order to complete such an act, her soul still remains tied to the tree. If the tree perishes, so shall Thalia. A temporary solution at best.”
“WHAT?!” Apollo shrieked. “UNCLE!”
“And Dionysus, I ask that you not let my involvement spread around camp,” Poseidon turned to his other nephew. “The less my brother knows, the better. Mother knows he’ll think I have some backwater plan for her.”
“Do you?” Apollo squeaked.
Poseidon did not answer. Instead disappearing into a mist of sea foam, leaving Apollo and Dionysus flabbergasted by the sudden situation they found themselves in.
—--------------------------------------
That should have been that, for now.
With the winter solstice fast approaching, and Oceanus’ movement suddenly so sporadic, Poseidon had his hands tied. He hadn’t even had a moment to send someone to check on Percy, which was making his soul crawl in irritation. Still, there had been some improvement.
“This is the most fun I’ve had in years!” Kymopoleia whooped as her storms raged above, startling an unsuspecting ship of monsters.
Poseidon couldn’t help the joy he felt at his daughter’s merriment, watching her float around as her purpose flared and sang with joy. Poseidon allowed his own little hurricane to intertwine with his daughters. Still allowing her to have her fun, but giving her a bit more fanfare as she sunk the ship.
The boat broke under her force, and Poseidon observed as many of the monsters became golden dust in his waters.
But there were more than just monsters, just as he feared.
Poseidon moved forward through the debris, carefully catching the children that fell into his waters. They panicked and thrashed until Poseidon gave them air to breathe in a bubble.
Demigods.
How long had his father been digging his claws into their children?
“More?”
Kymopoleia approached from behind, nose scrunched in displeasure.
“I fear so, my daughter,” Poseidon sighed as the children gaped at him. “Come, children, let us get you to camp where it is safe. Triton.”
His son, who had been hovering nearby for just such a chance, vanished into sea foam, off to alert Chiron and Dionysus of the new arrivals. Kymopoleia came to take the youngest of the children, frowning as she tucked the child into her chest to protect them against the fast travel about to occur.
“Hold fast, children,” Poseidon instructed. “And hold tight.”
The trip was not nearly as fast as Poseidon was used to. But given none of these children were of the sea, it was better to take it slower than normal. It still only took 3 hours to arrive at camp with the children in hand.
Even after their more careful travel, the children made it onto the beach on trembling legs as Kymopoleia aided them onto the beach and into the awaiting arms of the campers. Chiron was there to greet them, of course. But Poseidon did not dare approach. Best not to attract attention from the children.
“Lady Kymopoleia,” Chiron bowed.
“We found them in the Atlantic, further south. Triton and I were having a bit of fun when we came across a vessel of monsters.”
Chiron quirked a brow, but wisely chose not to question the growing relationship between brother and sister, especially as Triton and Kymopoleia began bickering with each other.
The small child Kymopoleia had carried was clinging to her as Kymopoleia stroked the girl's hair. An absent-minded gesture that filled Poseidon with warmth.
The child was claimed seconds later. A child of Demeter. Jealousy was quite a powerful weapon when it came to his siblings, nieces, and nephews.
With one of three children claimed, Kymopoleia bid goodbye to the girl and slid back into the water. Making her way to her father.
A blonde haired girl with rich green eyes welcomed the child warmly. Poseidon did not recognize this particular daughter of Demeter by name, but he was certain he had seen her around.
“I leave them in your capable hands, Chiron,” Triton declared to his Uncle. “I fear I am needed elsewhere.”
“Of course, Lord Triton,” Chiron agreed with a bow.
Poseidon left his hiding place with Kymopoleia and ducked over to a nearby bank where a young girl was defiantly standing in the water. Poseidon rose to greet her.
“There are easier ways to get my attention than threatening to fry all the fish and Nereids in the lake, Thalia,” Poseidon declared as he greeted her.
He noted, this time, that young Annabeth Chase and Luke Castellan were nearby. Given the last time she stepped into the water, her rage and anger isolating her from others, this was an improvement. Even if Poseidon was wary of his father's future host.
“Well my last act of rebellion didn't do anything,” Thalia hissed. “So I figured you must be blind or something.”
“Or perhaps I simply have no issue with your current actions,” Poseidon sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I do not care, Thalia. If you so wish to move into my cabin, then so be it. I will not punish you or smite you or whatever else you expect.”
Thalia. The child he had bound to a tree, had been acting rather oddly since her awakening. As in, she actively sought him out. Repeatedly. Challenged him at every turn as if she expected something of him.
Yet Poseidon could not puzzle out what.
Things had gone as planned, Apollo claiming credit for Thalia 's awakening. It had infuriated Hera to no end, and pleased Zeus. Dionysus had said nothing, not even to Chiron.
So what was it Thalia wanted? Had Annabeth pieced it together?
No. A quick glimpse at her expression told him all he needed to know. She was still studying him. Trying to piece together her own little puzzle that wasn't making sense.
“Thalia,” Poseidon said, reaching up to cup her face. “I want nothing from you. And I bear no ill will towards you. If my cabin is where you wish to remain, then do so.”
This girl who would become one of his son’s best friends. In another lifetime he would have despised his brother's daughter entering his domain. But no more. Not now. Not after all he had seen.
A path of red and gold.
“I… I don't understand you,” Thalia confessed, part of her resolve wilting.
Poseidon hummed. “Perhaps not. But someday I hope you will understand. For now, Thalia, my niece, be well.”
And then Poseidon left, beckoning his children to follow. He had a Solstice to prepare for.