Chapter Text
The standards for the granddaughter of the Earthshaker are high. The expectations are low. Very few have ever expected me to surpass the legacy of Poseidon or my father, Triton. This doesn’t prevent the disappointment that follows when such a prediction proves itself true. The sun does not shine on the girl in a divine shadow.
“It is difficult to fathom why Father gave such a slight girl like you a name like Pallas,” my sister Triteia once said to me while combing her hair, “Perhaps it is his humor, giving you a boy’s name. I am sure that Father would have favored a son. I am sufficient enough as a daughter. He did not need another, much less a girl who refuses to act like one.”
“I care not what Father thinks,” I refuted, “His existence means as much to me as mine does to him. In fact, I prefer when he doesn't care. I appreciate being left to my own devices.”
“Well, while you’re sitting in the palace unnoticed, I’ll be going on my date. If anyone asks, tell them-”
“You’ve gone to acquire herbs from the dryads on shore for your garden. I know, Teia.”
“Ah, she is useful. Thank you, sister.”
She peeked outside the window to make sure no one could see her escape before swimming outside. This was a well-worn routine. I never actually had to lie for her. Whether it be because everyone knew my sister was having a secret affair with one of the Olympians, or simply because nobody cared, no one ever inquired about her occasional disappearances.
That isn’t to say that I was opposed to lying. In fact, I lied quite often. I didn’t enjoy being alone. Denying that fact was possibly my biggest and most frequent lie yet.
I was never as skilled as my sister at forming companionships. I was always too aggressive. I was too excited about my passions, and not excited enough about whatever it was I was supposed to care about. My legs were off-putting to people as well. Most everyone in my family had a fishtail. Their elegant fins etched with shimmering scales made it so that I didn’t just fall shy of the beauty standard. I was also significantly slower than the rest of my peers. They left me out of their games and never asked for my opinion on anything. Why would they? We’re practically a different species.
Unfortunately, my legs seem to be the only trait that I inherited from my grandfather Poseidon. Ironically, because of this trait, I preferred being on land. However, living in a palace at the bottom of the sea wasn’t very accommodating to this desire.
I spent most of my nights waiting for my sister’s return from whatever social event of the night was on her agenda. She wasn’t particularly pleasant to be around but she at least gave me something to do. She might have been the only person at that time who had come close to caring for me. She would deny this, of course, but perhaps that is the nature of sisterhood. I worry for her when she goes out alone. She worries for me when I stay shut in. We tease and prod at each other about these things. We will continue to worry. We will never have a proper conversation.