Ancient Greece, back before there were Dark Ages....
Where:
Near the water's edge while Daphne sprints around on land
What:
Water god finds water nymph before she made her vows, before he's been made a married man.
Warning:
Fluff, though I don't imagine things are that 'fluffy' with Poseidon more like 'I gotcha now lets get at it'.
There was something slinky about a god that watched girls from afar only to approach with lusty eyes. Zeus was creative when it came into morphing into various forms (Poseidon had pulled a few of those tricks himself), but the water god preferred to make his moves like he was after prey. This target, more like his favorite past time, was the little water nymph Daphne.
In his human form he walked up on shore with a stealthy presence, black hair slick against his head with a light tan from the way the sun danced across the ocean top. He watched her there for a while, a voyeur among the trees and sand. She was alone. Even better. Maybe this one wouldn't turn into some hideous monster and he'd have a little extra time to play afterward.
Daphne usually didn't come too close to the ocean. Her father was a fresh water river, and salt clung to her like a bad perfume. But her father would know her thoughts, her wishes, and her doubts.
If she married, or even became involved with any of the Gods, her life would no longer be her own. Depending on who she'd be with, her life would also be over. Too many nymphs died at the hands of Gods. She liked being able to say and do as she liked.
The option of giving over her virginity to Artemis was appealing. She'd yet to meet anyone who struck her fancy.
She wouldn't go into the water, couldn't really she was fresh water and would get ill at the salt, but she was having fun following a tiny crab. She'd left her sisters to go to a nearby town, enjoying the solitude too much.
She'd just kneeled down to pick up the crab when the presence hit her like a brick. Cautiously she turned around, glad she was already kneeling and set the crab down. Every nymph worth her name knew the names of two gods better then their own. Both Zeus and Poseidon tended to be very fond of them. And Hera was nasty.
So she just smiled nervously before looking to the sand and pretending to be busy. Maybe she could pretend not to exist and he'd go away.
Poseidon didn't go away. When he caught a girl in his gaze, he would get what he came for whether she ran or accepted. This little nymph neither ran nor acknowledged him. He advanced forward, crouching down at her level to brush the hair from her face, those blue eyes locked intently on the subtly of her face. Her large eyes, perky lips, there was so much beauty in her delicate little form that he wanted at his fingertips.
"Daphne," he said raising his brows, willing her with that husky voice to look at him. If she remained calm and subdued he would not hurt her. If she ran, he would chase, and he would find her.
It was impossible to most that such a god could love, as his love was lustful, without passion, just the capture of anyone he could use to fill this dark void inside.
There was a lesson drilled into many nymphs. Well many. One of them was to avoid Zeus, and if you couldn't try and avoid Hera's rage and not get pregnant. The other was never to run from a God, and she'd heard her father's mutterings over Poseidon long enough to understand she should stay very, very still.
He knew her name. Dammit who had told? With a demure smile and remembering to breathe she raised her eyes enough to meet Poseidon's. "My Lord Poseidon." She'd learned respect from her father, and thus bowed her head, "you honor me too much in knowing my name My Lord."
She wished she hadn't given the crab up. It was hard enough to remain calm, but when she pictured her father happily bubbling in his stream she managed.
She shifted, just enough so it looked like she just sat down on the sand but brought her out of his direct touch and smiled. "My Lord has caught me at a time where I am not at my best."
At one time he had been less intense, far more understanding. That was given up when he and his brother's chose their kingdoms. When Demeter had denied his advances, not even his own family was safe from his hands. Maybe he would have been different if given the opportunity, but as typical of the blood of their father, there was something dark and treacherous that ran through them. Something that could be vengeful.
His eyes followed as she perched onto the sand, they were wanting in a way that even an innocent nymph would be able to detect. He tilted his head at her smile. That mouth was even more delicate against those bright whites, dimples creased in those plump cheeks.
He'd watched her for days as he often did to those that caught his attentions, reeling them in like a fish on a line. He wasn't the charmer in his seductions, not like his brother. There was something more cold about him, which perhaps came with that unknown tide he controlled.
The water rushed up along the shore. Even if she kept her from his hands, the water could touch where he could not right now. He sat beside her.
"I know your name," he'd found out from her sisters, one of which had not been so lucky when she'd refused to give it away. "It is a beautiful one," his tone ominous.
"Not your best? That your way of telling me to leave?" he said raising a brow, hand reaching out to touch her foot, fingers sliding up her ankle. He would lure her in.
Quietly she calculated her chances to come out of this, innocence intact. She was no fool, she'd seen that look before. She'd just never seen the appeal. And nymphs, she knew, were often nothing more then a passing fancy for Gods. She would not be such. She'd either be their only, and be nothing at all.
She knew better then to pull herself away from the touch. "Thank you My Lord. MY Father says it means Laurel." She shrugged, "I am unsure why." She smiled then, not wanting to risk that temper. "Of course not Lord! You should just be received a little better then with me wearing my hunting dress."
She pushed her hair behind her ear and smiled again, her mind spinning. "Do you hunt Lord? My sisters often tell me I am getting good enough to call for Artemis." It wasn't a subtle turn of conversation, but she hoped he got the 'virgin' hint and didn't smell blood. If he asked she could always claim nerves, "and Father said that if I do not marry he would rather see me wearing Artemis' Robes."
He could detect that nervousness no matter how hard she attempted to hide it. There was little even a virgin nymph could do to escape his advances if he wanted it enough, but he let her have her chance to play. She was being still.
"I don't mind," he said deeply. It wasn't her attire that interested him.
She changed topics as if the hold him at bay a little longer. Fine. Let her play this game. "I do not hunt the game of the forest. I stay to my oceans." His eyes flashed a darker blue. A finger rubbed against her cheek. "Artemis has enough nymphs at call. Why should you follow her?" It would be a shame for such a pretty thing to give herself away to the virgin huntress and never feel the sweat of a man's touch.
She wanted space, a moment to think but she knew better then to move. Why did she have to gain attention? compared to her other sisters she was fairly plain. She gave him a small smile at his comment and looked to the horizon.
But then he touched her cheek and she looked at him, "it must be different. I've never been in the ocean. I can't," before he'd take her there, "fresh and salt water never mix well."
She decided to go for her boldness her father had never encouraged and raised her eyes to his, "I want to be my own woman. Married means I have to give up my freedom, give up what I like to do. I enjoy doing what I like, when I like it. I don't want to be stuck doing a husband's bidding. Under Artemis' banner I would be allowed to do as I like." She shrugged, "besides I doubt I'll be missing much, despite what my sisters claim. I see no pleasure in such things." She bit her lip then, realizing what she'd said and to who she said it to. She was too outspoken.
Salt water and fresh water never did mix well. Her boldness matched that clash between the two bodies of water. It wouldn't stop him from obtaining. It was obsessive really.
His eyes caught her large ones, staring intently into them, entranced by their softness. He hardly heard a word she said, but he felt that sharp tongue as she flapped those words off casually. Had she forgotten who she spoke to? His brows knitted, slightly turned off by those sharp words.
If she spoke out of line again he may have been threatened to use force. Keeping his temper in check, he ignored her boldness. "Willful little sprite aren't you?"
She took a breath and looked away. "I can be. Father says it's not a good trait to have. I'm too much wild rapid, not enough calm stream." She brought her legs close to herself and settled her arms around them, leaning her head on her knees.
She would have to remind herself to watch herself. She'd rather not escape this with bruises all over her body.
To distract herself she dug her toes into the sand, focusing her attention on how the warm sand felt rather then how uncomfortable he made her feel. She'd just have to distract him from taking her. She didn't want to be taken.
"It's not a good trait to have," he said giving her firm warning. "It'll hurt you." His words almost threatening even in their soft overtone.
His hand reached out to stroke her hair, threading in and out of their silky curls. After a while he grew tired of it, placing the hair behind her ear and lifting her head by the chin so she would look at him.
"Do not be frightened."
He moved closer, lips reaching to taste hers.
She could hear that threat and even if it ended up causing her pain she liked being willful and stubborn. This was why she disliked the idea of getting married or getting involved with anyone. They would tell her things like this, and she was supposed to bow her head and comply.
It was her independence and she was not willing to lose it.
The touch stilled her until he made her look at him. When he kissed her she didn't respond, breaking away after a few moments. Now she tasted salt. "I am not frightened." She didn't like Gods she found. Being a nymph made it so she was their lesser. And a plaything. She'd be no ones plaything.
She knew he could hurt her, and probably would. "There are other nymphs more suited to you. I may not have made any vows, but I won't be a plaything. I may just be a nymph and mean nothing to you, but I value myself and my independence."
"I don't think you realize your place," he seethed. "Would you turn down a god with that tongue?" he titled his head as if asking her to deny him, again. There was more of an intrigue when they wanted to be so headstrong.
"I'm not interested in the others."
The danger in his voice cautioned her but she straightened and gave him an even look. At least she'd be able to say she'd tried, she'd fought. She hadn't just spread her legs.
"I'm a nymph. My place is at your feet, or on my back. I don't agree with this at all. So yes, I would turn down a God, even if it means you'll hurt me." She huffed, "and I am more interested in being Artemis' nymph. You will forget me the moment you get what you want, just like you do with every other nymph who catches your eye. I do not plan on being forgotten, or being a plaything and unless you can promise me devotion and care," she knew better then to expect love from a god, "then I would rather be a virgin eternal then just another notch in a belt."
She raised her chin, "and yes you can very well take what you want but like many others before me I won't enjoy it."
"Devotion?" Poseidon had hardly given his heart to anyone, what made her any different? The time he cared enough for his sister and she too had rejected him.
If she played her part well he may be inclined to keep her around, but she was being very stubborn. His hand gripped her chin a little more forcefully, his breath seethed between his teeth. He kept staring into her eyes and after a moment he dropped his hand and the hard glare clearing his throat. "Who says you won't enjoy it?" was the husky reply. Not every girl that took fancy to him ran scared. He had a mind to think Medusa actually had some attraction to him as eager as she appeared.
She rolled her eyes. Either a man would accept her as she was, all willful naiad, or she'd not be accepted at all. She would not change, not for any man or God. "Yes. Devotion, not mind you, faithfulness. The tempers of Gods are ones all nymphs understand. I shall either be someone's first, or be no one's at all. And I mean by that is that I would not care that whomever I married had others, as long I was the one who ruled his court and delivered his heirs." She paused, "I am a River God's daughter. I deserve to be Queen of something, even if it is only the palace of a mortal."
She held his eyes defiantly, "and like you said I am a willful sprite. This I will not change. Not for anyone. I know my head and heart and follow it. I have not met a single being, god or otherwise, who didn't want me to change." She sighed and shrugged, "does the word virgin mean nothing to you? I've heard it hurts quite a bit, and I have seen my sisters rut like animals. It's all sweaty, and smells." She made a face, "and as they tell me not half the men put a care towards making them feel good. After so much proof on the negative I have no desire to have sex. You cannot miss what you have never had."
"Pardon?" he replied a smirk flashing against his lips. Oh this was almost laughable. A woman standing up to him in a way that she thought was acceptable. It wasn't. She was killing the mood here. He'd almost preferred her to run, it would have been better for her, and he would have enjoyed it more.
His eyes looked down on her now, not as gracious as they may have been before. Some women's spirits could be broken, others were headstrong. He wondered just how long hers would last. If she surprised him, there may be cause to give her a title.
Did the word virgin mean anything to him? Not in the slightest. It was something more precious to take. That face she made was amusing. "Then why not a taste?" He may not come across as seductive as his brother, but he would set a stage for this one.
A finger moved down her soft neck, hanging just on the line of her dress. "Haven't you ever thought about a man in an attractive way?" That sickening sweet smile was replaced to a deadened one, his hand once again gripping her chin. Not as forceful, but enough to pinch. "Hmmm?"
She endured his touch because she had to. When he gripped her chin again she tightened her jaw. She wasn't like her sisters, all fragile and carefree. She had her moments, but she was too stubborn. Too much the wild rapid, going where she pleased.
She raised an eyebrow, "I'm a virgin, not blind. Of course I've looked at men in an attractive way. I've just never had the urge to flop on my back and pretend to be a fish for them." She winced to the grip but didn't pull out of it. "I actually have a mind of my own, my sisters may giggle and fawn but I shall flow as I like."
"And you heard me. Besides, all you've done is frighten me, threaten me, and hurt me. Forgive me if I'm not leaping in your arms begging you to take me." She removed her chin from his fingers then. She knew this would end up with her hurt, but so what?
So she thought she was playing clever? It was disrespectful to him, and she was mocking him with that tone. There was a quick smack across the jaw, breaking the skin of that soft face of hers. He held up one warning finger.
"It doesn't have to be like this," she was too vocal. He didn't like when they were so opinionated. "I didn't want to hurt you, but you mock me with that kind of talk."
She felt the hit connect and she looked away, feeling the sting in her bones. Her fingers gripped in the sand as she looked to him, her anger burning, racing like a river overflooded by rain.
"Mock you? Because I have a mind, because I speak it? You said yourself, willful little sprite. I am that, proudly. And that wasn't mocking. This is," with quick fingers she threw the sand into his face, hoping to catch his eyes as she bolted up and sprinted off into the forests. She knew them by hand. She hoped he did not.
His jaw clenched as she stood, closing his eyes before that sand could scratch. He was used to sand, it didn't burn in the way she'd hoped. It only stalled him for a moment.
Now it was getting interesting.
She sprinted and he followed. There was a laugh that filtered the air. A dark one, deep and disturbed. Had he been the god he was before Demeter's harshness, before the world had changed them all, he may have been less firm with the little nymph. Now she'd played this the way he liked it.
"Trying to hide now are you?" he yelled out as he hunted down that scent. "Where's your lady Artemis now, she won't save you."
She would go near water, although her father was close, where she knew he could demand her presence. Her father would have no choice but to comply. No the woods were her home as much as the water was, and she knew them well.
And she had not far to go. She gathered her bow and climbed into a nearby tree, already apologizing to it's dryad. She was not Artemis' yet, so could call on no one but her own skill.
She stood on a branch and aimed an arrow at his feet. Foolish perhaps. "I'm not hiding from anyone, nor do I need the Lady's aid. I have made no vows, I realize that. But you are in her woods Lord Poseidon, invading her domain. How would she take that?" She hoped it would stall him, at least. "I am not yours to simply take."
"You forget dear girl, giving up isn't my game." He laughed again, looking down at the arrow she'd shot in between his feet. He looked up dangerously, giving her that feigned smile. Oh this was interesting. "What's she going to do to me?" he said holding out his hands. He'd thrown Medusa down on Athena's alter, in her temple and had his way. What was stepping into Artemis' forest going to mean to him? Not a damn thing.
He stood at the tree's base, leaned up against it, his strength settling against it to sway it. The sea may have been at a distance but he could easily call the waters forward to flood her right out of that tree.
This time the arrow was aimed just above his head. She couldn't harm him, he was a God, but she could scare him. Hopefully. The whispers about Medusa had already gone around so her bluff was called. "Stop that. And you may not give up but I am not going to give in either. You tend to get what you want, except for me."
Just out of safety she moved to the next tree. "I know these woods better then anyone Poseidon. I can disappear in them. Good luck." She ducked behind the trunk, wanting to get away, and get away fast.
She was a clever shot, but not enough to make him flinch. Poseidon took a deep breath, more than vaguely annoyed at her attempts. It would only make her bleed that much more later.
"Then you have a long, and eventful evening ahead of you," he said in feigned cheerfulness. He walked slowly, stalking, eyes sharp, looking around.
The ground was nothing when the depths of the earth's core was at his power. The ground started to shake lightly, a tiny threat. "Little nymph, sweet, sweet little nymph. You really are stupid."