A/N: This chapter is center around Poseidon "Last Night," belongs to P Diddy…I want to thank a thousand time my beta reader Hannarrh.
"I know you can hear me I know you can feel me
I know you can feel me I can't live without you
God please make me better I wish I wasn't the way I am
You're everything I want to be if you could only see your heart belongs to me
If you could only see your heart belongs to me.
I love you so much I'm yearning for your touch come and set me free
Forever yours I'll be baby won't you come and take this pain away.
Tell me the words to say to make you come back and work me like that
And if it matters I'll rather stay home with you I'm never alone.
Don't want to wait till you're gone let me be just don't leave me
But my pride wouldn't…"
~ P. Diddy
The sounds of moans and unearthly groans filled the room as the couple enjoyed the pleasure of each other. The sweet tingle of want and the spicy scent of lust embraced them. Their motions were smooth as they slid against each other, their rhythms matching so perfectly and yet so uneven.
Her moans were soft, complimenting the baritone groans from her partner, the soft curves of her body molded with that of the hard tone one that took a century to be familiar with.
As they came to their climax that shook both heaven and Earth, they fell into each other's arms. The woman held the smile of a satisfied and content woman while the man's expression was unreadable.
Poseidon lay there staring blankly into the nothingness that seemed to cloud over him for the past millennia. He looked at the beautiful nymph that lay before him, a satisfied smile on her lips; he couldn't help but feel resentful.
Resentful at the fact he could not simply feel the satisfaction that she felt; the satisfaction that he used to feel so many years ago.
He looked at his mistress of over a century. Alexis was one of the sexiest nymphs in all the seven seas. The petite curve of her body was soft, her complexion aglow with an insipid light and her hair was honey suckle blond.
In the deepest dark place of his conscience, he thought about a Nereid who was, in every way, was one of the most beautiful women in the watery kingdoms.
He knew what today was…and with everything within him he could feel a pain of guilt so strong that at time it was unbearable to deal with. Yet he had to deal with this pain quietly every year on this day.
Memories of her seem to haunt him ever since the day that she left him.
The only irony of this whole story is that it so happened to be on this very day that she married him so long ago was also the day she left.
Poseidon looked over at Alexis who cuddled closer to his side, her head rested on his shoulder. He decided not to linger any longer on past memories and of the haunting image of…her.
Long ago Poseidon was once an esteemed immortal and like his family was once worshipped and loved by all mortals. Today, along with the rest of his family, they held no merit any longer when it came to the mortals of today.
Truthfully, he hated the modern mortals more than he cared for the mortals of his time.
The mortals of this era held no sense of the values of neither their ancestors nor the respect that there were even higher and powerful beings than them.
It was these things that annoyed him more than anything else.
Once he could do whatever he pleased him. Now he had to be cautious of everything he did.
He looked upon the piles of papers from complaints of minor and major issues in his kingdom to treaties and amendments that need to be reconsidered or rewritten. Not only did he have to handle his kingdom but on top of that, his business on Earth.
It would be a complete lie to say that he was doing well in this era of time…but he wasn't. In all the centuries of his life, never once did he have to deal with such issues.
Wars, he could handle perfectly.
Listening to prayers, he had the patience.
Punishing, he could handed most definitely.
But when it came to matters of such things as paperwork he had no idea how to handle it. There was only one person that was used to handling all that.
The more that he stared at each pile and the thought of this day, the more his anger drove to the point that if he didn't stop himself, he might cause another tsunami.
Poseidon shoved the piles off his desk with a fiery yell that shook the whole palace - it would be the first of many yells to come that day. The sound of furniture breaking and the yelling of vulgar expressions could be heard in the study. Everyone made sure not to interrupt the very heated immortal.
Triton could feel the frustration of his father before he stepped inside his family home. Servants bowed before the eldest child of their master and mistress.
Standing the same height of his father, Triton was in every way his father perfect replica. From the baby blue irises, to the intimidating unreadable expression that made them unapproachable, to the same uncontrollable anger.
Triton prided himself that he knew his father better than anyone - after all they both acted the same. So he knew perfectly well the reason for his father's mood…and he couldn't blame him.
Walking passed the guards he opened the doors of his father study.
"Did I not say that I wish for no visitors?" Poseidon yelled as he looked over some papers.
"Even if it is your son?" Triton asked, as he scanned the nearly destroyed room.
"Even if- Triton," he looked up to see his son and his once sour mood change in an instant.
"Father," Triton bowed his head respectfully as Poseidon signaled for him to take a seat in one of the chairs. He took a seat in a chair that wasn't broken and made sure not to step on any pieces of paper that he knew were very important.
"Ambrosia." his father stated, as he poured two glasses for them both. Handing his son the glass, Poseidon gulped down the first glass and poured himself a second.
Triton looked at his father knowing that it was better to entertain him than cause his mood to become any worse. Since it was the day of his parent's anniversary, he knew all too well how this day affected his father.
Over the first years after the separation it wasn't bad but as the years progressed, it was evident how the strain of the separation was impacting on him. But not only his father but also his whole family; Triton understood why his mother did such a thing, but her actions were beyond foolish; instead allowing people to ridicule their family shamelessly.
She refused to go to court even when summoned (demanded) by Zeus or Hera she would not even bother to show up. All communication was cut off when it came to her and their father. She would only see him and his sisters and always asking how their father was doing only to then drop the subject without any care in the world.
When he was young, his mother was the perfect image of what a wife should be: submissive towards her husband, beautiful in appearance and quiet in public and most importantly, she placed her family before herself.
Now…he didn't know what his mother became and now, his younger sister, Benthesikyme, was becoming worse as she begun to follow the same road as their mother. The only one who agreed on these issues was that of his sister, Rhode, who totally disagreed of the way their mother and sister were heading.
Triton didn't hate his mother, he was more resentful towards her to an extent. The means of his resentment came in many forms of unanswered questions and what he was brought up on.
He knew that his father was not a faithful man and that he and his siblings were not the man's only children.
But his mother already knew this, so why now - after nearly millennia of being with the man - did she decided to leave him?
She was a wife, a mother, and a Queen. She knew better than to do such rash and immature things.
That was not the way of an immortal woman.
"Have you seen your sister?" Triton looked to his father who by now was putting away his third cup of ambrosia.
"Yes, Rhode is doing fine father," he said as he spoke fondly of his sister that he was the closest with.
Poseidon nodded his head, as he thought fondly about his precious little girl. Out of all of his children, she always had a spot with her father. He didn't have to worry about her for she never would bring any worry to him.
"Have you heard from Bentley?" He didn't hide the disappointment in his voice as he spoke about his youngest child.
Out of his children; Triton was, in every way, simply him from his actions, mannerism, and speech and of course, his pride.
Rhode was simply her mother, beautiful and graceful. She held a calming presence and extreme brightness that always calmed him. She was in every way his favorite child.
And there was Benthesikyme…his trouble child. She was a mixture of him and her and out of all her siblings she caused him more strife then anything. He loved his daughter dearly, but there were times that her actions drove him up the wall. Over the centuries, they had their tick for tack, but ever since the separation, their relationships seemed similar to a cold war.
As if any minute something within them would cause the other to erupt. Out of his three children, she had most definitely inherited his temper. There had been times that even Triton would be silent and hold some type of fear.
He did not like the lifestyle that she was living. It was nothing like her sister's whose life was that suitable of a Goddess.
"Yes. She invited me to this party for her book," Triton said as he took a sip of his drink.
"She invited you too?" Poseidon said. He poured his son another glass of ambrosia as a strong laugh came from his chest.
"I told her I had something to do," he said as he took a seat and took another sip of his ambrosia.
"As they say, great minds think alike," Triton laughed as his father joined him.
They laughed for some time until it became it fluttered to quiet between them.
Then there was the silent question, the one that wanted to be said yet didn't.
"How is your mother…?"
Triton looked at his father. His expression was unreadable and he couldn't stop the sigh that came to his lips.
"I saw her last week; from what I gather she's been doing fine," he said sugar coating the fact that his mother looked much happier and doing way much better than him.
"That's good," Was all he said as he took a sip of his drink.
Poseidon stood before the Pool of Reflections; it was his connection to see whatever he desired. There in the reflected pool showed her, in all of her sickening beauty, dancing along with a male that he knew all too well her closest confident, Dmitry.
Doing fine? He could laugh; she was doing more than fine, she was doing a hell of a lot better than him.
Despite what everyone thought, he did know where Amphitrite resided and how her life was going for her. After all, what kind of God would he be if he didn't know where his wife and consort were at?
He could go to her at any minute if he wanted to; call this ridicules separation off if he wanted to.
So what was keeping him from it?
His pride and will were strong, just like hers, and he refused to beg her to come back.
Refuse to admit he was wrong when he wasn't.
She knew that with the title that he held that mistresses came along and children were a result of these unions.
For his way was that of a God, and apologizing for the will of a God was ludicrous and beneath him.
That didn't mean he didn't love her.
She was the only woman that he ever loved and still did. She knew him in ways that no member of his family could. And she loved him in a way that none of his lovers could ever resemble.
But the fact of the matter was he would not change himself because of her. She was his love and wife but being of a higher structure then she, her submission was called for and she had to obey whatever he said and told her to do.
Everything was perfect in the beginning but something changed and the more that he thought about it, the more that he got angry. It changed his wife and their life together, leaving him in the situation that he found himself in.
He looked the image of her; she was smiling and laughing the more he looked at her in such a state, he couldn't help but to think that it had been so long since he saw her in that way.
"Disperse," he said quietly and the waters image left as miniature waves clashed with each other and the waters became still.
He sat with a glass filled with his strongest wine and slouched back into his seat. His clothes were disheveled and the room pitch black, reflecting his mood.
The feeling of emptiness and bitterness consumed him with such a force that it almost drove him insane.
Raising his glass in a mocking toast…
"Happy anniversary…Amphitrite," as he swallowed one of the many glasses of wine to come that night.
Short chapter the next chapter will really start the story.