Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

She met him on the beach.

Sally Jackson had never been in a relationship before. She had crushes here and there, but never pursued them.  She didn't dare– why would she? There was nothing much about her life that other people could love. 

Her uncle Rich sucked out any happy moments of being a teenager that she could have had. Sally Jackson never got to go to prom or take a date to the high school game. She never got to sneak out to see whatever person she was seeing because there was no one to see. There was a first kiss – a dare during spin the bottle on the rare night she ever went out as a teenager, giving her the only sense of what could have been – but that was about it.

Now, she was 22. No prospects, no money, but she couldn't be a burden to her parents because, well, they were dead.

Montauk was the place her parents used to visit with her. This time, she went with her old high school friends, who made it evident that their lives were different. Some were getting married, others went to university and just graduated. 

And Sally? Well. That was what she asked herself.

The moonlight was the only source of light that night. Far away, her friends were skinny dipping, a little tipsy off whatever low-quality liquor they could buy. Sally had a drink or two but still had enough clarity to know she needed a moment for herself and some fresh air.

So she walked, and she allowed her thoughts to run.

Sally wanted so much. She wanted to go to college, have a place, write a book and share her stories with others. Sally found the old stories fascinating, the ones that talk about gods falling in love with mortals and having children. Were the gods alive and still falling in love? Were they siring children? It's not really romantic if you think about it. A gust of romance leads to you having a doomed life. Either way, it's not hers to have. Only fantasize.
 No, she couldn't play with what-ifs when she was busy taking side jobs. She wanted a life that belonged to her. Sally Jackson did not want people to determine what she should do.

Squeak. Squeeeeeek.

The sound of distress was high-pitched. The long body, more extensive than a van, lay on the sand. The ocean's cool water barely reached its poor body despite rising temperatures.

The whale could only do so much but cry. Sally ran up to the body and looked around frantically. What was the procedure? What do people in Montauk do?

The whale's eyes moved and looked right at her, a tear pooling at the corner.

Oh, by the gods, Sally thought. It needs help. I need to call for help.

She took off her denim jacket and dunked it in water. Wasn't the first thing she should do to ensure it didn't dry out?  After laying the now damp jacket onto the whale, she looked around frantically. 

There, a small phone. She could ring someone.

"I'll be right back, little whale," Sally ran her hands through her hair in frustration and ran right up to the payphone. She held the receiver in her hand. It connected to someone.

"Hello, this is Montauk police station how may I help you?"

"This is Sally Jackson, I am calling because there's a beached –"

"Oh! we know," the operator said dazily. "We already have someone on the scene."

"What? I am the only one here–"

Sally looked towards the whale.

There. There was a figure standing by the whale.

The operator hung up.

Bewildered, she put the receiver back on the holder.

"There, there," the man's voice was smooth, a little bit rough around the edges. "You will get home just safely, little calve."

At first, she thought the man was holding a fishing pole. But after observing the man for two seconds, she realised that the fishing pole was not moving like a fishing pole but something else. The man pointed it towards the whale. Before she knew it, the whale was moving towards the ocean. The water moved underneath the whale, no longer barely touching it. It seeped underneath the creature and carried it into the water.

"Woah," Sally found herself saying. She covered her mouth. The man heard her.

"Nothing to see here," he mentioned. "Just normal procedure, beaching procedure that is."

"No it isn't," Sally crossed her arm. She nodded towards the trident. "You have a trident. Who uses that for beached whales?"
The man looked towards the trident he held and then back at her. A look of confusion crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by... intrigue.

"Tell me," he asked. "What do you see?"

"A trident, obviously," Sally remarked. "What are you doing with the whale?"

"I'm sending her home," he said calmly. "She got lost, split from her mother on the way to the pole."

"Can she find her?" Sally asked.

"Yes, they are quite intelligent, much to everyone's surprise." There was a soft smile on his face. Sally noted his eyes. He looked around her age, like any other 23-year-old she would meet on the beach, but there was a certain darkness in his eyes that was filled with sorrow. He had seen things that none of them could fathom.

He reminded her of one of her favourite Jane Austen characters. He was tall and had a commanding presence. Maybe even a muscular, athletic, from what she could see through his white shirt. The man had a striking countenance and a well-proportioned face.

"Come," he said.
"What?" Sally looked at him in surprise. He pointed towards the water, and there she saw it. The baby whale was still in the water, waiting. The man urged her to walk into the water.

"I can't – " she looked down at her clothing. She wasn't dressed for the beach, really. She wore jeans and a pair of sneakers; they were absolutely about to get wet.

"Don't worry about it, just... trust me," he held out a hand, still holding the trident in the other.

What would people say when they saw that Sally trusted the man who held a gigantic fork in his hand? He was a stranger on the beach. She should return to her friends, but something in her heart told her she should trust him.

Gingerly, she walked towards him and took the hand he held out. It was rough. She could feel the calluses on his palms. They waded into the water, the coldness shocking her for a second. It quickly subsided. The whale moved up close to them, as much as she could without getting beached again. They swam up to the whale.

The man still held her hand. He held her hand up to the whale. Sally gently petted the whale. It was smooth and oily.

"There's a layer of mucus that helps them move through water," the man said. "Not a lot of people can touch whales unless they're dead or working in a sanctuary."

"Is that what you do?" she asked him. Maybe he was a marine biologist from the Ocean Institute. "Why is she still here?"
"She wanted to say thank you. Without you, she wouldn't be here."
"But I didn't do anything," Sally frowned.

"You called for the gods."

Sally laughed, "Sure."

It was ridiculous, but the trident spoke more than words.

The baby whale swam away. They watched as she became a small blob on the horizon, the water's surface no longer broken.

They swam back to shore. The man still held on to that ridiculous trident.

"Well, uh, thanks," Sally blushed. "For that experience."

She looked back towards where she should be, the fire burning in the distance. They could hear the booming sound of music from far away.

He nodded towards her friends.

"They should clean up after their mess," he said.

"No worries, I'm on sober watch. I'll take care of them."
"They're old enough to take care of themselves," he tilted his head. "You don't need to take care of everyone all the time."

"If only you knew," she said bitterly. "Well, I'll head back Mr...?" she fished for a name.

He was quiet for a second, then he answered.

"Thalassarchos, but just call me Poseidon."

"Like the Greek god? You must really take your name seriously. Being a Marine Biologist and all."

He didn't correct her, not at all. So it must be true, he was from the Ocean Institute.

"Well then, Poseidon Thalassarchos," she sounded out his last name. She didn't want to say it incorrectly. "I guess I will see you around this summer if you're stationed here."

"Let me walk you back, Ms....?," he offered.

"Jackson. But call me Sally, and nothing will hurt me here," Sally insisted.
"Oh you never know, I've seen enough teenagers stealing the clothes of skinny dippers," he said in an amused tone.

So he walked her back to her friends, though none of them realised she was gone.

As she walked into the circle, she wanted to turn around and thank him.

But Poseidon was long gone.

It didn't occur until morning that her clothes had been completely dry coming out of the ocean.

Chapter Text

“C’mooonnnn, Sally!” Anne rolled her eyes. “We’re here to relax. Why don’t you just –” she waved her hand around. “– do exactly that?”

Sally got on the bike. It was one of the cheaper ones she could find, and she could only have it until the store closed at 3pm.

“I am relaxing,” Sally insisted. “I’m going around town.”

“It’s just…” Anne trailed on. “We haven’t seen you much since we graduated, you know? I thought you’d let loose more but…”

“But what?”

“You’re still you,” Anne finished. 

“Is that a bad thing?” Sally looked at Anne.. Their high school graduation was over four years ago, and Sally didn’t even get to stand on stage with them. It didn’t help that every other day of her life was monotonous. She worked nearly every day and did classes to get her GED. It was going slow simply because she didn’t have enough time in the world, but she was slowly getting there, even if it meant that her friends kept moving forward.

Sally knew there were two things she could do: hop on the bike and leave Anne behind or join her friends on the beach and lie down doing nothing, which didn’t suit her well.

“What if I make my seven-layer dip tonight, and we watch a good old rom-com,” Sally promised. “I just need this one afternoon to myself.”

Anne looked at her. Then, she held out a pinky.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise,” she affirmed and tangled her pink with her.

She shot off. The wind bit against her cheek. The small rocks under the wheels vibrated throughout the bike. The wind burnt the inside of her nose, lighting her lungs aflame and leaving behind a clear path so that she could breathe. Sooner or later, she would need to stop, but for now, it was enough to keep going. Her father would often take her on bike rides, and they’d take this very path. She felt closer to him, even if he wasn’t there, and she could no longer remember the sound of his voice or what he actually looked like.

When it was time for a break, she parked her bike and continued the walk by the docks. She contemplated getting a treat for herself, maybe an Aperol spritz or something, but she reminded herself that she needed to get back by bike, and it would still be considered drinking and driving.

She got ice cream instead. Walking down the docks, she eyed the kids running around with their families and felt a pang in her heart. She wanted that; perhaps she could find someone kind one day. Someone who could help her out of her situation and let her live just a little. She couldn’t rely on someone to do that, of course. She hated the idea that she’d owe someone something.

“Morning,” she turned around. There he was again, the guy from the beach. He had his sleeves rolled up, a rather peculiar thing to wear when it was burning hot in the summer. 

He followed her eyes to his arms.

“It’s to protect them,” he said. “From the sun. It’s a lightweight material, you know. Sometimes, I just don’t want a farmer’s tan.”

He jumped down from his boat – oh, he has a boat , Sally thought – and walked up to her. 

“Did you get home okay last night?” he asked. “No accidents along the way?”

“Everything good,” her voice went up a squeak. “We ended up having to carry one of the guys to the vacation house.”

“Doesn’t sound like a fun time, at least not for you.”

“That’s why I went out biking,” she took her helmet off. By day, she could finally look at the man. His eyes were a beautiful sea green, the same colour the ocean was that day. “I needed some time away from them.”

“Why spend time with them if they’re wasting it?” 

“They’re still my friends, even if we have different lives. I think relationships are important. It reminds me there is more than just this.”

“I get it,” he shrugged. “I spend a lot of time out there. Sometimes aeons past and when I come back, the land isn’t the same.”

“As long as you don’t imagine manatees as mermaids,” Sally joked.

“Who said mermaids weren’t real?” Poseidon winked.

“Oh c’mon,” Sally rolled her eyes playfully. “Stories like that surely aren’t real.”

Poseidon leaned in closer and whispered,  “You’d be surprised.”

The hairs on her arms stood up.

She cleared her throat and nodded towards the trident. She blinked, and then it was a fishing rod, before returning to a trident again.

“Tell me, Mr. Thalassarchos. How useful is it that you’re a marine biologist who walks around with a trident named after the god of the sea? Did your parents re-destine it for you?”

“My parents like to think that what your name is influences your life,” his eyes seemed stormy for a second. “Potentially, Poseidon could just mean Husband of the Earth or Water; no one knows. But of course, given my profession, I could easily be the god of the sea.”

“Well, my name is Sally but I’m not a princess,” she crossed her arms.

“No, but you could be a queen.”

It didn’t sound mocking, not at all. There was no change in his features as he said it; for a second, Sally could believe it. 

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. 

“Is this flirting?”

He chuckled. “Surely I have your attention –

Something swooped down on them in that second, a flash of white. Sally dropped her ice cream cone; sure enough, it was precisely what the critter was going for.

“Hey!” Poseidon complained. He snapped a finger. The seagull looked up at him like a cat that had been caught doing something. They bowed down, perhaps ashamed and walked away. 

Sally looked down at the empty cone.

“I’ll get you a new one,” Poseidon said.

“No, you don’t have to.”

“I insist. For last night.”

Sally pursed her lips. This once, she thought to herself. It would only be one time, and he said it was because she called the marine life service… even though she barely had.

They walked to one of the ice cream stores but right into the parlour instead of getting in line. It was Greek-themed and called “Dionyus”. Poseidon pulled out the chair. She stood there, thinking he would sit down first before she realised it was for her.

She carefully sat down, expecting him to pull out the chair at the last second. But she felt the seat slide under her. Nothing malicious. Just…kindness.

“Why name an ice cream parlour after the god of wine?” Sally wanted to distract herself. 

Poseidon shrugs. “Why not? I’m sure Dionysus loves that dedication. They sell Kataifi here. Have you ever tried it? And if you don’t want it, there’s mastic, salepi…” he trailed on. “But we can also get something normal.”

“But have you tried it?” he insisted. Sally shook her head.

“I’d never been further than Long Island; we have some Greek restaurants around, but they don’t offer it.”

He looked offended for a second.

“I’ll try it,” Sally assured. She could get something else on the way home if things went wrong and it didn’t taste good. 

The waiter arrived, and not too soon, the ice cream arrived. During the waiting time, Sally talked. She talked about what she was doing in Montauk, where she came from and what she did. Poseidon listened. He had an interesting way of listening. He held his hand under his chin, sometimes closing his eyes as if he were listening to her voice. 

When it arrived, he looked, curious to see her reaction.

Sally dug her spoon into it and took a bite.

The shredded phyllo dough pastry didn’t have a strong flavour on its own. She noted the texture –crispy on the outside and soft inside, a delicate, slightly sweet and buttery taste. The ice cream, on the other hand, made it what it was. It reminds her of tree sap. A herbal, slightly woody flavour with hints of citrus and a mild sweetness.

“Oh my god,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Poseidon grinned and dug in himself. He ate it like he hadn’t eaten anything in ages.

“And here I was thinking I wanted another blueberry ice cream,” she hummed. 

“You could also go for Smurf ice cream.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, just blue-coloured vanilla,” he said. “It’s just a lot more… rad? Is that what people are saying?”

Sally couldn’t help but crack up.

“What? Was it wrong?” he frowned.

“No, it’s just, I thought you were a local from how you act.”

“The sea is my home, so I am home on all docks.”

She could detect it slightly, the hint of an accent. Perhaps it was Mediterranean, but there was also a hint of a British cadence. It sounded rather international, like those kids from the posh international schools.

She sunk into the feeling, enjoying the ice cream. Even if there was silence, it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

Sally eyed the clock.

“Crap!” she jumped. “I needed to return the bike half an hour ago!”

She quickly scrambled.

“I really enjoyed this, but I have to go now. I’ll pay you back for today.”

Poseidon waved, “Don’t worry about it. Will I see you again?”

There wasn’t anything else she was doing. She planned on bringing along her journal to the beach and writing.

She nodded, “How about tomorrow? Same place?”

He smiled and she took that as a yes.

She ran back to her bike and legged it. Her muscles were sore when she got there, and she knew she’d have to call the owner to come back. But the store was still open when she arrived. She looked at the opening hours

It was an hour past that.

“Ah!” the owner said. “There you are.”

“Sorry about that, I lost track of time.”

“Lost track of what?” the owner looked at her curiously. “There’s a special today,  opened until right now because uh… just because.”

“Oh!” Sally looked at the time. “Well, then uh, thanks for everything.”

She walked out, highly confused and just like that, the lights of the sports store vanished. 

“Soooo how was your ride?” Anne had prepared the snacks and wine. The seven-dip layer lay untouched. “The others were wondering where you are.”

“They didn’t want to come here?” Sally asked.

“They didn’t like the vibes near the septic tanks,” she shrugged. “I told them, I prefer this cabin than that happy vacation home they have… but they do have a pool…”

As Sally nodded off, she dreamt of the sailor who never stayed around long enough to lay his roots and a palace under the sea. She dreamt of the trident and the very man wielding it.

Chapter Text

The other point of coming to Montauk?

Writing.

Writing was Sally’s number one passion. Her high school used to have a creative writing class, and she lived for every story that her peers told, no matter the. No matter where she was, Sally would write snippets of a story that only existed in her head. Fragmented as they may be, she loved finding those crumbled snippets in her apron or opening a notebook to see a complete short story, like a little gift her past self left for her. 

She thought of re-tellings and how so many stories were just old myths being retold. Romeo and Juliet, Moulin Rouge, anything in English literature – so many of them were inspired by a myth. But, many failed to look outside the standardised versions or whatever they were told was the “true version”.

She thought of the myth of Demeter and how that story no longer belonged to Demeter, how it was taken away from her, just like how Zeus handed her daughter off to Hades. It was those stories that interested her the most.

But the journal stayed blank, the sand covering the pages as the wind cooled the feeling of the sun on her back.

She returned the next day, stealing away during sunset while the others were lying on the beach. She hoped she wasn’t late, but something told her he would still be there, and she was right. Poseidon was on his boat again, this time checking the strings for foul play.

But he was only caressing them. With each touch, the frayed ropes returned to their former glory. Something about him should have rung alarm bells, but in the way, she sometimes saw the sphinx by Rockefeller Centre move or a man with one eye instead of two. 

“Did you go out today?” she didn't know how else she should start. Poseidon turned around, but his eyes were stormy today.

“It could be a better day,” he gruffed. “Family stuff,” he looked up at the sky.

“I know only a little bit of that,” Sally grimaced. Poseidon held out a hand. She stared at it before he nodded for her to come on the boat. His hands were calloused and scraped against her skin, but Sally's weren't better from washing many dishes and waiting at many tables. He pulled her aboard.

“Mine is a little bit more dramatic than yours, I hope.”

Sally hummed. “It’s not 90210 , if you’re asking.”

His face blanked. He didn’t know what 90210 was.

Sally explained, “It’s a famous tv show. Well America famous, I don’t know about the folks across the pond.”

Poseidon chuckled. “Fascinating. And people find it interesting because it’s about a dysfunctional family?”

“Eh, more or less about the rich. I think we have a morbid fascination with the rich and how they get away with things…”

“Sounds a lot like my family.”

“Is it that bad?” 

Sally observed him. When his eyes crinkled for a split second, he seemed a lot older than he should be. There was an ancient onset to his eyes, glazy as they remembered the past. She noticed he was still holding her hand in his, and his hands were fiddling with her fingers, agitated. 

“Well, to put mine lightly…” he looked up at the sky. “My brother had a child out of wedlock, and the family isn't happy about that.”

Poseidon scratched his moustache. She usually didn't like those, but it fitted his face.

“No, it isn't. A child should not have to pay for their parent's action. I could never hate her because of who my brother is. But my family they're… extreme. Competitive. They idolize kleos , and treat each other terribly. Not all of us, of course, but it's very do ut des. Quid pro quo.”

Sally blinked.

“I need you to be honest with me, Poseidon. No vague answers, just yes or no.”

“Alright.”

“Are you a god?”

The sea was calm, as still as it could be. They were in his element, the night sky a conglomerate of his family history. 

“Yes.”

How would you answer it? What do you do when you know the person you met is a god from the stories you have heard about all your life? 

It didn’t change anything for her because he didn’t act like a god to her. He offered her companionship by eating ice cream with her, making her discover something new. That told her more than she needed to know, no matter what the back of her brain yelled at her.

Remember the stories.

 She drowned it out.

 Out here, she was at his mercy. He was entirely in his element, while she was in her element when they were on land.  

She took a deep breath. “Well then, lord of the sea. Poseidon. Care to show me that you can actually sail this thing?”

His eyes twinkled, and he clapped his hands.

“Without magical powers!” Sally called out.

“Oh, what makes you think I can’t sail without them?”

And he actually did it. He pulled the correct ropes and controlled the wheel. She knew that perhaps he was already enhanced at what he did, and it helped that he could literally control the area around them. The perfect gust of wind, the right speed, and they were sailing around Montauk before she knew it.

The sky dimmed into twilight as the sun fell from the horizon, and Nyx cast a black robe over the city to show them the stars that burned in the sky.

“They’re actually suns burning millions of miles away, right?” Sally asked. 

“Of course they are,” he said. “Science and stories can co-exist.”

“Fascinating,” Sally leaned against the boat's edge and sighed.

“You said you have a tough family as well,” Poseidon peeped up after anchoring the boat. “May I ask?”

Sally closed her eyes, feeling the warm summer breeze, the smell of the ocean – not the wrong kind, not the one where it smelt like dirty trash, but the one that calmed you down. 

“My parents died in a plane ride when I was five, so I was raised by my uncle,” she grimaced. “To be fair, he could have been worse. He suddenly got a five-year-old child when he didn’t want any in the first place – one of those bachelors, you know? And he did take care of me. Gave me food and a roof, but nothing more than that. No extracurricular activities allowed; just get out of his hair; that’s what he wanted me to do. It was fine until he got cancer. I dropped out to take care of him; someone needed to pay the medical bills. At least I got to keep the apartment. The superintendent was nice about it, and I literally have a shithole,” she laughed bitterly.

“But I’ve nearly paid it off now. Just a couple more months, and I can actually live .”

“What do you want to do?” 

“I want to go to college, write a book,” Sally dreamed of the main character she would write about. Was it highly autobiographical to a point? Perhaps, but no one needed to know that. Many debut novels are autobiographical.

“What if I could help?” Poseidon said suddenly. “Make it all go away and more.”

“Poseidon,” Sally turned to him, her eyes no longer on the horizon. “I can’t let other people finish my fights for me.”

“It’s a problem that you didn’t create,” he huffed. “You shouldn’t have to pay for it.”

“So shouldn’t you.”

“But I can!”

“ Do ut des ?” Sally said, but her pronunciation wasn’t as beautiful as Poseidon’s had been. “What could I possibly give you if you did that for me that wouldn’t feel like I had to repay you? I thought you aren’t allowed to do  stuff like that?”

He stayed silent for a moment, deep in thought. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to turn down a god. There were at least three she knew, all of them had something to do with Apollo. Hopefully, she never met him, though it may prove fruitful when she writes a book.

“You’re right, but that doesn’t mean it should be correct.”

Poseidon kneeled before her.

“And if I do anything else besides help?”

Sally felt the blood rush to her face.

“You’d be very human to do that,” she answered. 

If you’d asked her months ago what she would do if she met a stranger, Sally would have swatted that idea away. No, she would absolutely not kiss someone she barely knew or even date him, let alone… no. Absolutely not.

But for once, Sally did not want to control anything. She wanted to let go and let someone else take care of her for once.

Kissing him was like melting in a warm pool of water, your muscles relaxing after a long day. Far away from the land, back where her troubles were, it felt like a secret that she could keep. The fearful sea god in her arms, falling apart.

Chapter Text

The day started on a sour note. 

It should be illegal for work to call her during the holidays, but regardless, she answered the phone.

“Hey, uh, Jackson!” it was the boss of the restaurant she waited at. “We’re down on a few waiters and need you to come back tomorrow.”

“But, I’m not back until next week!”

“Tuff luck,” her boss grunted. “Someone is down with the flu.”

“And if I say no?” Sally needed this vacation. It was the only time she ever took off during the whole year.

“Then you’re fired.”

That thought burned at the back of her brain when the girls came over to take advantage of the private beach by the cabin again. This time, they brought people along whom she knew but wasn’t necessarily on friendship terms. 

Her journal stayed blank, the sand covering the pages as the wind cooled the feeling of the sun on her back.

“Soooo,” Anne scooted closer to Sally and nodded towards the hoard of boys – well, men, but in her head, they were still the boys from high school. “Do you like any of them?”

Sally didn’t pay them any mind. She was still thinking of last night. He’d promised to come by her cabin later to watch whatever human movie she wanted him to watch, just so he was “up-to-date”.

What a sucker.

“None are my type,” she hummed.

Anne raised an eyebrow. “What is your type?”

Sally shrugged.

“Tall, a little bit sun-kissed –”

“Fictional?”

She smacked Anne’s upper arm. “I was actually going to describe someone.”

“Is it someone you work with?” she piqued. “Someone I know? Because if that’s the case, then I can forget about introducing you to Gabe.”

“And when was this supposed to happen?”

“It’s more of a meet-up at the bar, really. We decided it before you returned from your run around town,” Anne eyed her. “It’s our last night, you should come.”

Sally shook her head.

“No? Does it have anything to do with last night because who are you meeting by the septic tanks that is this interesting? Why don’t you bring him along?”

There was no point in lying about it.

“If he’s up for it.”
“If he isn’t weird about it, he will be up for it,” Anne said adamantly. “Even if he is a stranger, what’s his name?”

Sally lied, “Kai.”

“Kai? Oh I just know he’s a surfer dude,” she rolled her eyes. “Didn’t knew you loved those kinds of people.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I mean they’re very… fluid in movements .”

Sally smacked Anne on the upper shoulder playfully. “None of that happened!”

“But something did happen?”

Sally hid her face in her hands.

“I won’t say anything anymore.”

“C’mon, tell me about him.”

“Well he’s a sailor,” Sally began. “Very handsome. I met him because he was dealing with a beached whale that I found –”

“When was this?”

“Oh, back when we had the bonfire. Anyway, then I went biking, met him per chance by the docks and we had ice cream together. Then I met him again and we… hit it off. Talking to him was just easy.”

Anne didn’t seem convinced. “A sailor? Bet he’s rich and probably has a wife somewhere.”
“I…” Sally frowned. Didn’t Poseidon have a wife? Wasn’t there a myth about that? But they all still had children with mortals… and most certainly, his wife couldn’t be like Hera. Hera was known for hating every child of Zeus. But didn’t Poseidon also have children with nature spirits –

Enough , Sally soothed her thoughts. 

“You don’t know, huh?” Anne tsked. “It’s Montauk. There’s rich people all around ready to fool about. Trust me, Livia used to be the side piece of one.”
Sally promised she would come, but only as long as she could. She returned to the cabin she inhabited alone because the girls preferred the big mansion down the road from her. But there was one thing that the cabin had over the mansion: Its own beach. So, while they never stayed long enough to hang out with her at the cabin, they stayed around during the day to avoid anyone annoying them at the beach.

 Sally looked at her clothes and picked out the best she had at that moment: a pair of second-hand Levi jeans and a baby blue blouse. She wore that whenever she needed to look more put together. After applying make-up, she grabbed a jacket and hoped it wouldn’t go on for long.

The bar was not far off from her street. It was one of those beach bars catered mostly to tourists, meaning the price was amped up to the nines.

“You made it!” Livia, Sally remembered she used to run the school newspaper, exclaimed and threw her arms around Sally. “I was sure you’d turn it down.”

“What do you mean? I’ve always made it to your parties.”

“Well, yes, but not always. You were always late, never stayed long…” she trailed on. “But this is great!

Sally did not want to mention that she was often late because her work hours were long and that sometimes she was just far too tired to stay long. She did as best as she could so she could still see everyone. 

Sally returned the hug, regardless. “Let’s not dwell on that.”

She sat there, but the longer they talked, the more uncomfortable she felt. She was immediately shut out of the conversation as quickly as the others came by. Someone’s back would be turned to her, which wasn’t probably as they were the biggest group, but every time she started something, there were no conversation-stimulating questions to come back. 

So what do you do? Oh, what are your plans? That’s it?

Livia was showing off her ring. “I am so going to get married in Italy next summer. It’s all planned and everything –”

“We just got this big house and I was accepted by a law firm –”

Her head kept turning, trying to see if anyone was free for a conversation,  but they weren’t.

Sally looked down at the cider that she had ordered and decided that enough was enough. She did not belong here. It was obvious from the moment they’d booked a place over her budget.

She cleared her throat.

“I’m going to head out,” she said softly. 

They paid her no mind. 

Sally was relieved when she got out of the bar. That place was far too loud for her liking. 

“Hey!” Anne caught up with her. “Are you sure?”

“It is obvious that I am not welcomed in there,” Sally said. “I think our lives have moved on so fast that I don’t have a place in it.”

“That’s not true,” Anne argued. “I… well. Maybe. But it’s because you’re never there!”

“And that’s my fault?”

Anne pursed her lips. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Always.”

“Why don’t you just get your debt forgiven?” 

Sally closed her journal and took a deep breath.

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

Anne shrugged. “I mean… some businesses do it all the time.”

“I’m not a business, I’m a person. Those people can file for bankruptcy because they know they can make the money back.”

“I’m just letting you know there’s a lot out there that you are missing working the 9-5 and 5-9. You can’t be alone forever, you know.”

Sally clenched her fists, “I won’t be. I’ll see you around New York, then?”

Anne didn’t smile. “Have fun with your rich sailor.”

Sally did her best not to cry on the way to the cabin. It was dark, and truth be told, she would rather crawl into her bed and do nothing, Poseidon be damned. It didn’t matter who he was; she should be allowed to be left alone.

The house was empty when she entered. This was how she would return home each night, be it in Montauk or New York. There was no one to return to and, most certainly, no friends who would even lend a helping hand to keep her mind from sinking. They were too busy, off in their world. 

And she didn’t wish it was that way. She could go back right now and apologise to Anne and spend some more time with them. But she couldn’t.

Perhaps she was too prideful to walk back in there and allow herself to stoop down to their level.

A tear fell down her face. 

The door knocked.

It must be Poseidon; she cleared her throat and wiped away the fallen tear. She wanted to be alone, but she also didn't. There was 

“I made my famous dip,” she smiled, but she knew he wasn’t fooled. Poseidon had seen all kinds of sadness. The creases by his eyes adged him, and she saw his hands clench around the trident he held.

“What happened?” he asks.

“Human stuff, no weapons in the house,” she waved him in. The trident in his hand vanished. 

“Should I send a hurricane their way?” he asked. “Make their next time in the sea miserable.”
She entertained that thought for a second, but only a second. Livia would not have a great wedding by the sea… but no. 

“Please, don’t.”

“Well?” he didn’t sit down but went into the kitchen to help her. Not that there was much to do; they were only two.

She told him about her day, from the phone call from work and the bar. He listened throughout it all without interfering once. That’s what she liked about him. He listened.

“I won’t pretend I know what that means fully,” he said. 

“You live a different life,” Sally supplied.

“Yes, but I do know what it means to pull away from people whom you used to care about,” Poseidon said. “I have many children, and some of them… some of them do things in my name that I would never want them doing. Antaeus, for example…” he trailed on.

“Kids,” Sally felt the need to ask. It weighed her since Anne mentioned it; now he has brought it up. “I don’t have to worry about your wife knocking on my door, do I?”

Poseidon barked out a laugh. “No, we have an open marriage. Most of us do, unless you’re a certain someone. Now my sister, she hates it that my brother has children outside of their marriage.”

He did not mention the names Zeus and Hera, but she knew he was talking about them.

Something about that lightened a load on her heart, but she still felt horrible. He had many children, so she could not be the only one. 

But he offered to make all your troubles go away. 

“Thank goodness she isn’t like that,” Sally answered. Poseidon tucked Sally’s hair behind her ear.

“Don’t think about any of that,” he insisted.

“So, is it your last night here?” he asked. “Or are you quitting your job?”

Sally thought about it. She could spend a few more weeks here without that job; it would be tough. She could breathe just a little and face reality another time. It would be the most impulsive, rebellious thing she had done in a while.

“I’m staying,” she answered.

“Good, because I already asked the owner if you can stay longer,” his eyes twinkled.

“Poseidon!” Sally exclaimed. Heat shot up to her face. “I could have done that myself.”

“And because you could have,” he supplied. “I allowed myself to do it. Keep the money, let me do this for you.”

Sally felt her jaw dropped.

“But –”

“This,” he pointed at the seven-layer dip and took a piece. “This counts as an offering.”

“You are… inscrutable,” Sally found herself saying. “Like the sea.”
“Fits the bill, doesn’t it?” he snaked his arms around her. “Just… let me do it, please? Someone should take care of you for once.”

Reluctantly, Sally allowed it. Because it couldn’t hurt, could it?

Chapter Text

He supposed someone would realise something was up. Poseidon spent most of his time on Olympus, so people tended to get curious when he stopped coming around for a month, citing that he was under the sea.

He knew Aphrodite knew. How couldn’t she? She could smell someone’s infatuations from a mile away. Technically, she could spy on him. Sometimes, you never knew when a god was watching as their essence could be in different places. The general rule of thumb was you couldn’t spy on someone when they were in their element unless you were physically there. So, Zeus could not know that Poseidon was having an affair with a mortal, not that he would notice because rumour had it that Zeus was still seeing that actress. Oh, how they’ve all crumbled. It only took seventy years.

Poseidon was, however, cautious. He and Sally never did that , at least not something in a way that would get Sally pregnant. He stayed with her in that cabin. She’d sleep, and he would slip away in essence to be the sea god, but physically, he was by her side. When she got up, they ate together, and he showed her the oceans and their beautiful creatures. They did things that other mortals did – they watched movies in the cinema and sat around at cafés.

Of course, he gave her the space that she needed as well. He would return to the sea when those days happened,  but it was never long before he returned. He found living the human life with her fascinating. The neighbours were curious about the pair at the run-down cabin, and he got to know them well, too. To them, he was Kai. A funny name, Poseidon realised, for it also meant "the sea".

He wondered if Greek families around the area realised that Kai Thalassarchos meant “Sea, Master of the Sea”. He wasn’t the smartest when it came to pseudonyms. If anyone asked, he was a marine biologist, which he technically was, and sometimes he’d walk into the institute, pull the mist around him, and help them find new methods of taking care and preserving the area.

“Between you and your brother,” Amphitrite said one day while remodelling the throne room. “That prophecy will come true.”
Poseidon leaned on his trident, rubbing the furrow between his brows, “I hope not.”

She urged. “I don’t think you have a say in that, even if you tried.”

“If a child were to ever be born from this union,” he told her. “I would still love them, regardless of if I have doomed them. But as it stands, there is no child, and we’ve been careful.”

Amphitrite raised an eyebrow and signed off on the pink curtains.

“Don’t get too careless, love. Say that and the fates will find a way.”

He disappeared from the palace under the sea as the sun rose. It was the Summer Solstice, and he would have to go to Olympus sooner or later. Sally slept peacefully. None of her worries would touch her here, not while he was still around, but he knew the day would come when she’d be alone. Any god that spent far too much time with their mortal lover ends up gathering attention.

She stirred in her sleep.

“Poseidon?”
“Go back to sleep,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Isn’t it the Solstice?” she muttered, burying her face in her pillow. “Shouldn’t you be out soon?”

“Yes,” he muttered. “But don’t worry about it.”
Poseidon made her breakfast. Break rusks with some feta cheese and olives that she could enjoy, along with some eggs and coffee. A little bit of Greek yoghurt on the side, tomatoes and other herbs, and she’d be set for the day. She woke up from the commotion and pulled herself from the bed to the kitchen. He could feel her starting from the back.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked.

“You don’t look like this for my enjoyment, do you?” she wondered slightly. 

“That I won’t answer,” he gestured to the table and pulled out a chair for her to sit in. She sat down and picked up the utensils. Poseidon didn’t need to eat, but he did it for her.

“So you’re most powerful today, huh? What are your plans?”
“A meeting with all the others,” he grimaced. “See what they have to say about how the past year has been.”

She seemed distant for a second.

 “Somehow,” Sally started. “I don’t want to know what the others are like. They seem… respectfully scary. I don’t want to mess with any of them.”

“They can be alright when they see the light.”

Sally did that face. The face she did when she got the information she needed. And Poseidon didn’t regret it. He knew a family problem existed, but he had no control over Zeus’ kids.

But Zeus’ kids happened to be two-thirds of the Olympians, which didn’t cast the best light on the rest.

“I can assure you my branch of the family aren’t that bad,” he assured.

Sally raised an eyebrow.

“Not as bad as them,” he corrected. “There are a few black sheep, I admit, but if you’re around for three millennia, you’ll know.”

“I don’t plan on it,” she smiled. “I think life is great because it ends one day.”

Poseidon’s felt the smile wipe off his face. He did not want to think about that day. While his memory may be fleeting, he didn’t forget the people he loved over the years. He remembered Aethra; he looked down fondly on his descendants. He remembered Perseus, who married his great-granddaughter – he had beef with Queen Cassiopeia, and he certainly wasn’t ready for those mortals to sacrifice Andromeda to a rock. But he knew that he remembered them because something of them lived on. A monument, a statue, a story. He couldn’t forget them because the world reminded him constantly.

Sally had none of that.

“I know…” he trailed. “There will come a day when you die. I only wish to see you live it as best as possible.”

“That might take a while.”

Though he knew she was stubborn, Poseidon constantly reminded her that he could make her troubles disappear. She could be free. A snip, a couple of strings with the other gods who were perhaps better at doing what they did – Poseidon certainly had no business up in finance.

But she wouldn’t allow it.

He knew her time with her was running out. They had the summer, yes, but when would that summer end?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sally chided. “And I am already going to repeat what I told you.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a palace under the sea?” he urged.

“It would be more for you than it is for me.”

“If you’re immortal,” he added. “It wouldn’t be.”

“I’ll become immortal in my own way, sweetheart,” she wiped away a piece of Greek yoghurt that got onto his moustache. 

The roughness of her hand softened a bit after a month of not working. He wished she could have more of that instead of working her years away to start her life. But he did as she wanted.

When he left, she was sitting on the table with that new machine that was a typewriter but digital, a small trinket he had found at the thrift shop for her. The cup of coffee was steaming, and she genuinely looked carefree.

He should have known that his luck wouldn’t last.

Zeus, being the king who did not do his duties, noticed. His brother had his arms crossed when the throne room was empty, the other Olympians having left to attend to other chores on Olympus.

“So I hear from the dryads and the nereids that you haven’t been around,” he crossed his arms. In his pinsuit and scorned face, he looked like a solicitor. The air crackled with electricity. “Seeing a mortal, are you?”

“And what of it, brother?” Poseidon tried to not sound so defensive. Zeus shrugged. 

“I would just like to know if I need to worry about our reign ending in sixteen years,” Zeus grunted. 

“My brother, if the prophecy is correct, then it is only by our acting that the child will raze or raise it,” Poseidon reminded him. “We swore a pact that you broke in the first place. And I shan’t kill a child for something that you did.”

“I would not do the same. The moment a mortal child of you enters the air I shall be killing it.”

“Well,  lucky I don’t have a mortal child,” Poseidon retorted.

Zeus pondered for a second.

“Are you sure of that?”

“Yes,” Poseidon insisted. “I would know.”

“Good,” he crossed his arms. “Then I forbid you.”

“What?” Poseidon’s trident materialised in his hand. He pointed it towards Zeus. “What did you say?”

“I forbid you from seeing that mortal woman, whoever she is. I cannot see you, but I will find out who she is if you return to her, right now.”

“And if I do?”

Zeus’s eyes crackled with electricity, “You will find yourself with a dead woman in your arms.”

There were many things that Poseidon wanted to do. He wanted to throttle his younger brother, kick him off Olympus if he must and let his spirit scatter until Zeus returned only in a hundred years. He could pull off another riot if he must; Hera would certainly join in.

But he took a deep breath, thinking of Sally, who would be waiting for him, not knowing he wasn’t coming back. He knew she could fend for herself if needed, but it broke his heart that he couldn’t say goodbye.

“You won’t be able to leave Olympus until it is winter,” Zeus warned. “That must dampen any feelings you have.”

“The same could be said for you,” Poseidon retorted. “I know you are seeing her. ”

“Do your duties, brother ,” Zeus gave a lasting warning and left the throne room.

Chapter Text

The sea could not be restrained. Sally knew something was wrong the moment the sky darkened, and a storm brewed. She turned on the radio, which had an emergency broadcast. A sudden hurricane coming in from the Atlantic, it said.

Poseidon , Sally pleaded. What’s happening?

She paced the common room of the cabin, thinking of all the possibilities. Could it be? Could it be that Zeus found out?

Or were they just arguing?

Sally settled on reading a collection of Greek myths that Poseidon brought along. She didn’t know why he read it when he lived through it, but surely it was hard to remember three thousand years of your own history.

The book sprung open to the page on Medusa. Medusa, being beheaded by Perseus in one myth. Medusa, being…

She trailed off.

Sally had to remind herself that Ovid was a Roman writer about Greek myths, and Ovid was extremely anti-Greek. But she had no idea how much of it was true. She could ask him, but what good would that do if it might mean that he would put himself in a good light.

Would he?

She looked in the glossary, looking up Amphitrite and the story behind her, then turning to the page on their marriage. It wasn’t a good idea.

She wondered if anyone asked Medusa how she felt. Medusa did nothing but love only to be beheaded in her sleep, but her head was more potent in death. She wondered what was true – was Medusa already born with snakes in her hair or had that been Athena’s curse? Or did they all exist at once?

The storm picked up a lot more, and Poseidon didn’t return. Night fell, and when she went to sleep she hoped he would be there in the morning, but he didn’t. The storm didn’t loosen up at all.

A day went by.

Then two. It continued to rain.

Sally felt her heart break into numerous pieces. She should have known it wouldn’t last, that he would leave at night and never return. She had a good run, didn’t she? A lovely summer and whatever summer love story that her friends – if they were still her friends – could talk about in the future because in the future, it would hurt less.

She called the cabin's owner, saying that she would be leaving the cabin for New York that evening.

“Do you want a refund?” the cabin owner asks. “I mean, I’d gladly keep it but the IRS would be on my case if I did.”

Sally was flabbergasted to find out how much Poseidon offered the cabin owner. But she didn’t protest. With the extra money, Sally used her own money to pay off Uncle Rich’s debt, and used Poseidon’s money to get a new apartment. It would be enough for now, and she could even attend night classes and perhaps community college.

She got a job at Sweet On America by Grand Central Station. From there, she could walk out and see the Empire State Building towering over her on the way back home. Hopefully, he was watching. It comforted her a little bit because she had no photos of him to remember him by. She felt calmer now that she was no longer on constant edge from the environment she worked in. No debt to worry about, just her life.

And all because of her love for Poseidon. He left her, but he was still everywhere and taking care of her. It could have been worse, she could have been cursed by whatever fates were out there.

It was winter when she next saw Poseidon. A blanket of snow lay over New York, the pure-driven snow turning dirty as the cars ploughed the streets. She had a day off and lay around in her pyjamas, flipping through the pages of Jane Eyre as it was the reading for her literature class tomorrow. The copy was falling apart as it was, and now it just looked well-loved.

There was a knock at her door.

She looked up. It must be the abuela from across the hall. Abuela often ran out of sugar from baking a lot, but in return, she’d often share her food with Sally.

“ Abuela ,” Sally called out. “At this point I will have a cupboard full of sugar for you –”

She faltered. It was not abuela. 

Poseidon stood before her, looking anxious. He wore his Bermuda shorts in this weather and a Hawaiian shirt.

She was ready to close the door on him but could not bring herself too. She held onto the door frame tightly.

“Poseidon,” she said.

“Sally,” there it was. Said like he had let go of a long breath, and she didn’t doubt that he could hold his breath for a tremendous amount of time. “I came as soon as I could.”

“I figured,” she looked outside. “The weather has been bad since the Solstice. Today is the first good day.”
“I knew you’d figure it out.”

“But you didn’t send word,” Sally accused. “Not a single word. You could have at least said something, another sign.”

“That… would be on me.”

Sally stood to the decide, letting him come in. She looked down the hall, left and right, before shutting the door. Hopefully, there won’t be any gossip.

Poseidon explained everything. The prophecy, the pact, and what it meant. How Zeus was afraid, despite him breaking it already, and that Poseidon was finally free from his hawk-like watch because he was doing the exact same thing that Poseidon was doing now.

Seeing his mortal lover.

“Poseidon, I can’t be your little secret,” Sally ran a hand through her hair. “It makes me feel… feel like I’m in the wrong.”

“No, no, no,” Poseidon assured her. He held his hands up, ready to cup her face in his hands, but hesitated. Sally nodded, allowing him. “You are not wrong, you’re not… you’re not a dirty secret . You’re a queen amongst mortals, and I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“What makes you say that?” Sally felt a weight gather in her heart. “Why do say that?”

“You can see through the mist, you’ve treated me as an equal from the moment I met you and you never once shied away from criticizing my world. You’ve worked so hard, so hard , and deserve more than all of this but chose to make your own path.”

“You helped a little bit,” Sally added.

“You were already there, I just made it happen faster.”

She scoffed and took his hand away. Should she really do this, take Poseidon back, only for him to leave again.

“You can’t stay anymore, can you?” there was a reason why he was here.

He rested his forehead on hers. It was a silent answer.

“I could and would build you a castle under water and give you immortality if it meant you’d stay,” he muttered. “But you would oh so hate that. ”

Sally smiled and kissed him. She kissed him, and any thought of wanting to write her novel was thrown out of the window, knowing that tonight might be the last night she may see him.

In that split second, she knew that they were being careless. She should have thought a lot more about it, but the moment Poseidon caressed her sternum, any thoughts she had diminished.

Poseidon allowed himself one last night with Sally. And in return, the Fates played their part.

Chapter Text

Poseidon loved her, even in his absence.

When Sally got pregnant, she had no idea how to tell Poseidon without risking their relationship. But Poseidon watched as best as he could. From afar, but the hurtful look on his face told her everything she needed to know when he came to tell her what to do when you were carrying an heir of the sea. There was so much to consider, so much danger and hurt that would come to Perseus’ – Percy's – way. Forces would want to kill him and prevent him from turning sixteen.

He could not interfere with her life now that she was with a child. The Fates would stop it, and he would become like any hands-off Olympian parent. He didn’t want it, but there were forces at play that he could not intervene with.

He had but a last cryptic message to her. Send the child to camp when it was older.

She was stubborn and wanted to keep her son around for as long as possible. She named him Perseus, perhaps to anger Zeus, but also because Perseus was the only happy demigod. 

First, there was Gabe. The guy that Anne wanted to introduce her to. She rekindled her friendship with Anne when Percy was born, but when Gabe was not the man Anne promised he would be, she ended their friendship entirely. But she kept him around simply because he stunk of alcohol and urine. It allowed Percy to be safe.

And when she needed a way out, Poseidon gave her the tool she needed—a silent gift once more.

The second time, she lucked out. Paul Blofis, Poseidon laughed at the last name, and as weird as it was to have the two men in the same room at Percy’s birthday, it reminded her that life did go on. They got married, and Paul was even more understanding of that summer romance she had sixteen years ago, and loved Percy like his own son (though he never said it out loud). Even when her son was constantly in danger, it all soon faded, and the monsters didn’t hurt him anymore. Her house became a centre for demigods and gods (even though Apollo was mortal when he visited) whenever they needed help and she provided as much aid as she could. She wrote that book. And another.

She got what she wanted.

And Percy could live a life like any other mortal teenager, with a little sister to love, and the god of the sea overlooking them.