Who: Poseidon [Narrative/Open to Amphitrite] What: Reflection time When: Early Sunday morning, January 8, 2011 Where: Hawaii condo Warnings: TBD
Poseidon had become more human than he could ever remember. His powers were only a fraction of what they once were, something that didn't give him any peace in knowing. Never would a mortal soul have had the ability to dominate over him as those men in Greece had. He'd been weak in a way that was hardly acknowledged. To have let such dominance not of his own hand be thrown at his wife, that was an even bigger offense.
They had landed in Hawaii Saturday night, Amphitrite still asleep on the couch where she had crashed the moment they had arrived. He'd spent that night in their bed alone, restless, turning his ring around his finger until the skin rubbed raw. At the first sign of early morning, when the sun had finally peaked out from the clouds, Poseidon took the chance to head out to the shore. He had forgotten how the tropical air felt in his lungs instead of that smoggy New York fog. The ocean water glistened just ahead, calling him with her sultry voice.
She felt as good as she beckoned, that warm and cold water slick against his skin. It seeped through his clothes, caressing every inch of his body, calming whatever tension he'd been holding inside. It was damn near orgasmic that feeling, for the first time in a decade making him see that perhaps the city had changed him.
It was hours before he ever emerged from that watery bed, leaving a trail of water against the sand before laying out in the sun. It gave him a chance to ignore what was going on between he and Amphitrite. He'd still not forgiven her for leaving, for putting him in this position.
His head laid back against the deck chair, down below from the condo balcony.
He could still smell it on her, that disgusting mortal scent. His nose had been rubbed in that smell. He wanted to tear it from her body until she bled, take her and reinstate his claim. No man had ever touched her, it unsettled him when it reeled around like a spinning wheel. Then there was the part of him that couldn't be harsh to her.
How had it come to this? So twisted around that now she held him on the base of her strings instead of the other way around? To the point that tailing after any intriguing woman he'd come across had flat-lined. He'd seen her, the pretty blonde jogging down the beach. He'd sat up, she walked over, but as soon as she opened her mouth to speak the interest was gone. He wouldn't pursue, attack or even do more than dismiss her with his ice cold eyes.
That oceanic pull wasn't coming from the sea but from Amphitrite herself. While he could easily storm into that living room, for now he'd keep his distance.
Amphitrite couldn't deny the distance she felt between her and Poseidon. It was mostly her doing, but who could blame her after everything she had endured? Every part of her being told her to keep away from everyone and everything, even Poseidon.
Even if he had never harmed her she simply didn't feel that attraction she had had only weeks before. There was still affection, but nothing she felt comfortable enough to express. The most she had done was allow him to hold her. And as far as Amphitrite was concerned, she could live like that forever if it meant she would never be hurt again.
When she woke to find herself in an otherwise empty house she frowned. She had been exhausted when they got there, having curled up on the couch with her favorite blanket. Somehow she felt cheated that he had left the house, and yet she didn't want to make an issue out of it.
After making some hot tea and spending a good thirty minutes inside by herself she decided she'd better look for him. She could feel him but so far she couldn't see him. Her eyes settled on the water as she headed outside, longing for its warmth and freedom. The Mediterranean had healed and comforted her when she needed it the most. It had concealed her when she needed a place to hide. And now it was thousands of miles away.
She had stopped before she reached the sand, seeing the blond walk over and Amphitrite felt something in her rage that he would dare do this right now. But he surprised her. He didn't stand and walk away. He didn't pull the woman into his lap. He didn't even appear interested in the least. She waited several minutes after the other woman walked away before approaching him. For now she stood to the side, staring at out at sea. She wanted to jump in and swim away from her troubles. But we all know what happened last time she did something like that.
The sun had started to dry his wet clothes, but the blank tank still clung to his skin. He had just closed his eyes when he felt A mphitrite make her grand appearence. She felt stronger than she had in days but it wasnt enough.
"What?" he started sarcastically, "think I was going to run off?" he cracked one eye open to see her form in the bright sun. She didnt know how much he hated himself for letting her slip through his fingers, but maybe he would when he felt like getting into an argument. Instead he moved his arm from resting on his side, hand reaching out to take hers, pulling her gently to sit beside him.
Had she been her normal self Amphitrite would have taken advantage of this situation. But she wasn't, and despite whatever Poseidon might think she felt guilty. Now there were only a few marks here and there as bruises were nearly faded. Even her body felt better.
Her arms crossed at that. Yes, that had been her first thought. Who could blame her? How many times had he run off without a word and left her to worry about whether he'd gotten himself killed or worse yet, that another woman was taking him from her? Even now she still felt that great sense of hers and no other woman would ever replace her. She let him pull her next to him, settling comfortably in the sand as she leaned against him.
His bruises and wounds too had healed. The knife blade that had been given to his leg no longer pinched his nerves, nor were there any remnants much left of those Greek mortals definition of torture. He'd been through worse than that at seeing Amphitrite treated like a broken in dog. Such the hypocrite he was.
Moving his legs out on either side of her he pulled her in closer against him, arms folding around her. It was a protective move though any touch he could feel her flinch within. As much as she felt him hers, he felt the same, a sickening kind of jealousy, warped love the two of them shared.
He would have given anything to have shown up before. Then he'd have known she'd purposefully slept with the mortal bastard prior to the kidnapping, which would destroy him more than knowing she'd been taken unwillingly. It was a smart move on her part to not tell him.
"I didn't," he whispered, resting his cheek against hers as the sun continued to warm around them.