At the Mercy of the Sea (Part 1)

"Have you heard anything I've said?" Poseidon crossed his arms, kicking the leg of the table to jostle her out of her head. Dark startled.

"Shit. Say it again," she grumbled, "I'm listening now." They were still supposed to be hashing out what to do about Athena but Dark was having a terrible time focusing. He'd single handedly ruined her concentration. All she could think about was her current sex triangle. The shape would only continue to grow and twist as she took more lovers. *If* she took more lovers. He might have successfully turned her off of the whole idea.

What was so wrong about casual sex? Well, if she was being honest his issue wasn't about who or how she was fucking, it was about Hades' mental well being. Dark was forced to acknowledge that though he seemed okay enough on the surface, he was probably very different underneath.

"I said we have to be careful not to lose our only current advantage," Poseidon said with more bite than was necessary. He looked incensed at having been ignored, as if he hadn't just thrust her into an awkward crisis. He continued, "Athena doesn't yet know we know. Which means neither does Asteria. That could be useful. And we need time to figure out more about the cyclops they're creating. I confess I never spent much time studying the iterations of Asteria's creations. If we blow this up by playing the information badly, Asteria could change her plans, maybe choose different monsters, maybe choose to create something totally new."

Still, Dark was only half listening. Hades had a bad look about him lately, she couldn't deny that. And as much as she wanted to focus on what Poseidon was saying, her mind kept going back to how afraid he'd been to drink from her in that bath. And how he almost hadn't stopped once she forced him. Of course, she could have made him stop if Tantalus hadn't intervened but it was the wild thirst she'd glimpsed in his eyes that had her second guessing what they'd done that night. Her mind kept replaying every moment because suddenly she was wondering what it would take to sate that thirst.

When Dark didn't readily reply to Poseidon, his accompanying look was disappointed. As if she weren't quite what he thought she'd be or as if he was scolding her for zoning out. Did he think she didn't take him seriously? Or perhaps he thought she didn't take Athena's threat seriously... Dark's teeth clenched. He started this fucking mess of doubts inside her head and now he was judging her for actually thinking about it? What an asshole. How was she to blame for being unable to fixate on *both* problems?

Regardless of her muddled brain, she forced herself to consider the point he was making about keeping Athena's betrayal between themselves. As far as what he was actually saying, she'd thought something similar herself but she didn't like their options. Every second Athena spent in their midst, at their meetings, was another second she had more intel to send back to Asteria. They couldn't risk it. But maybe they needed to. They needed to exploit every weakness they could.

"So you think it's stupid to tell anyone yet, but what do you propose we do about Athena? Let her keep attending our meetings and seeing our preparations? We don't know how much Asteria already knows."

Poseidon seemed to ponder that as she thought of Hades once more. She decided there was only one thing to do, talk to him. Perhaps he would let her help if he could get past his stubbornness. Again she felt a strange sensation of duty towards him. She needed to ensure he was in one piece for when Angel returned, she owed her that much.

Dark rose from her seat, needing to stretch her legs and break the battle she felt trapped in. There was something about Poseidon that was getting under her damn skin. Everyone else just seemed to let her exist without kicking too much shit up about it, but him? He wanted to constantly chide her and berate her choices. She'd felt judged silently ever since the arena when he'd implied she was above such vengeful things even though she really wasn't. And now she felt judged verbally. But she wasn't one to concede to her emotions, regardless of how upset it was all making her. She felt weak and that wouldn't do. Dark was petty and angry, callous and efficient, controlled and unattached. She was many things but never weak.

There were moments where she thought Poseidon understood her, like when he told her she needn't try to be Angel, and then moments where he seemed to hate the very core of her, like twenty minutes ago. It bothered her and she hated that it did.

Dark carefully approached the desk near the window, fully expecting Poseidon to continue their argument and yet she was met with silence. She fingered some of the rumpled papers stacked and scattered, glancing down to find some letters signed in Cleito's name. They were worn thin and yellowed with age but sitting on top of the piles as if he'd just been rereading them.

She couldn't help but wonder what would drive a god to behave this way. She thought of what she'd seen so far from the others.

Zeus and Hera had a marriage born of power and necessity even if they still managed to have a close bond despite it. Yet, their closeness was not a substitute for love and though she thought they were fond of one another, she couldn't imagine this level of reverence if one of them died. Perhaps vengeance but not veneration. The two ideas almost clashed with one another. Hades and Persephone was yet another example of a bond that did not benefit their hearts, or so it would seem. He'd appeared ready to kill her in the arena and she him, especially once she'd gotten the taste of his power as she'd wanted.

Only with Tantalus, who claimed to love none but Angel, had she glimpsed even a moment of this kind of appreciation, or better named obsession. He'd kept Angel's room just as she'd left it. And like Poseidon, he'd killed her, betrayed her, abandoned her to her fate. It was odd really, that the two gods who had the least reason to share anything with one another, had the most in common. Both seemed to be holding onto a memory more than an actual person.

The only difference was Tantalus had left Angel's room as a shrine because he expected her to return. Poseidon knew his wife never would and that was infinitely more puzzling.

She wandered to a small table near the bed and uncorked a vial of liquid that sat on a golden tray. Dark sniffed, enjoying the smell that reminded her of the sea. It was like a fresh spray of salt water mixed with the slightly earthy, warm scent of blood in her nose as she swam, of sun-kissed waves against her hair. It was lovely, not really her taste but lovely all the same.

"It was Cleito's favorite fragrance," Poseidon said numbly from behind her. She could hear the chair scrape as his feet shuffled to her side.

"I didn't ask anything," her brittle temper from earlier had snapped away into nothing. She was originally irritated for his lack of urgency, at the trickery of bringing her to his home but, the rage was no more. They should already be in hell, explaining what they'd just seen but... after what he'd told her in the cell... she could allow him this moment at home. "H-how do you have all this?" she waved a hand over the brushes and lotions, the perfumes and small items of jewelry. "I thought you said you brought the ocean into the room. Why didn't it all wash away?"

When Dark turned to survey his face, she realized he'd closed his eyes, pain etching across his features and creasing his brow. She probably shouldn't have brought it up.

"The sea always returns the things I love. A gift and a curse, for sure. I've kept them ever since they reappeared."

"But not her?" she broached again. Gods, what was wrong with her? She knew she shouldn't say anything else on the matter, especially with the look in his eyes when he pried them back open. Hell, she should mind her business and let him keep his dead wife's secrets. Why did she want to know if he ever recovered the body? Perhaps is she'd truly been swept away, he'd consider it an honor. A sea burial. She shouldn't make him think of such things. But, she felt curious? No, it was more than curiosity but she couldn't quite name it. The more her mouth moved, the worse the sensation grew.

"It returned her too," his voice was almost too still, "Eventually." There was no emotion in it though his eyes blazed and swirled gold like a storm was raging inside of him. And Dark felt something when she studied those eyes. It startled her. And because she felt off kilter ever since he'd scolded her... And because of that terrible tortured look on his face... And because she was feeling more and more at his mercy when it came to emotions, so much so that she was having trouble concentrating, she did something completely emotional and without an ounce of control.

She reared back and punched him squarely in the jaw.