Who: Poseidon and Amphitrite What: Married life isn't what it seems When: Ancient Greece, past Where: Their ocean home Warning: Poseidon? Lol
It was the first time in their happy little marriage (which had taken some time for Amphitrite to warm to him) that Poseidon had eyes for an new young girl. It had been a least few years of giving Amphitrite the hope that he was a changed man. After all, even a Greek god could be swayed by love. However, Poseidon's heart was tainted by greed, a desire to obtain everything because even the heart of a woman wouldn't change him now. After Demeter's refusals something in the sea king had snapped spiraling him into a manipulative monster who took what he wanted by force.
Medusa had been the first, then Demeter herself. There was a sickness to his obsession with her, and it still a vague inspiration for taking Amphitrite's hand for his own domination.
Scylla was a young sea nymph that had caught his eye, that lustful glance and hungry urges. Whether she'd begged him for it or gave in to his advances was neither nor, only that like his sky counterpart, Zeus; Poseidon continued the trend of unfaithful husband.
Amphitrite had been a fool. A complete and utter fool. How could she have ever believed that it was actually possible for Poseidon to change? How could she believe he only wanted her now? The stories, everything she had ever heard of men (whether gods or mortal) were all unfaithful bastards.
And here it was true of her own husband.
She had come to love him. She had given herself freely, even if it had taken some time. Well, if he was going to go messing around with other women by the gods she would make sure both he and his whores would pay.
So she had taken her revenge. It wasn't difficult turning Scylla into nothing more than a sea monster.
And boy had that felt good. But she was still angry at Poseidon. No amount of coaxing would make her forgive him. This was a wound that ran deeper than flesh.
Her dark hair, the swell of those breasts against the water, those supple lips and uninvited body, it was the right spark for the lusty sea god. Scylla would be one of many, and certainly not the last of his advances.
When he'd gone earlier to revisit the scene and the girl he'd not found a girl at all but some ghastly monster in her stead. He could have deemed it the work of one of his fellow Olympians, but it was much more rugged of a job than that.
When he'd returned to his underwater kingdom he'd found an angry Amphitrite. He held his arms out pointing towards blank space.
"I can't do anything with that!" he yelled in almost outrage that she'd dare to take down one of his pursued girls. He hadn't lied about it, didn't even deny it.
Angry probably wasn't even the best word. Furious might have suited her mood better. She wanted to kill the whore and she wanted to do the same to Poseidon, and yet she hadn't laid a hand on him. Now she didn't want him to touch her while she cooled off. At least she had had a moment of revenge. Maybe this would teach him not to mess around.
Her eyes turned to him and in them was fury, but there was also a hint of hurt. "I know."
Revenge felt nice, but it didn't make her feel better.
She wouldn't lay a hand on him, if she tried he'd smack her away. At least he'd consented himself to do as such, but in reality he wasn't sure he could intentionally hurt Amphitrite physically.
He came forward with that ridiculous smirk plastered on his face as if it were a trophy. Holding his arms out, Poseidon chuckled.
"Jealous?" he asked with a scoff, though it was obvious in her body language and actions she'd been more than jealous. He'd let her in, let her pet and coax him into this adoring husband. It made his skin crawl, because he wasn't any of those things. It wasn't fake, but it wasn't someone he could continue to be.