Under the Water(Fem. Percy)

Chapter 4

Triton holds me against his side, talons drawing blood from my arms. Water follows behind them, healing the scratches just for him to recreate them. It's my fault, really. I didn't think he'd be as possessive as Dad. A dumb thought, since Triton's a sea god too. Despite the pain it's causing, and my simmering anger, he's doing his best to soothe me and my ruffled feathers. The soft sound of popping bubbles cuts through the noise of flipping papers.

I sigh, rest my head on him, and start counting the next row of stones. His room isn't too different from mine, aside from the shimmering, shifting aspect of it. It's blurry around the edges. I know there weren't steps leading to his bedroom before, and the archway's existence feels off, like a half-remembered dream. Dad and Triton don't have a set form, and it seems their rooms don't either.

"Can I leave now?" I ask. Even at the beginning, when I told him what Dad wants, he didn't let me up, replying with 'in a minute's and 'not yet's. Stomach acid eats away at my insides, my gut contorts into different shapes as it begs, and Triton keeps reading. A few bites of chocolate will soothe it, if only for a minute or two.

My door isn't too far away. And really, how much trouble is there to find in the palace? 

Glowing eyes turn down to me. There's no disdain in them as he searches my face. "No." Then he goes back to his papers. Scrawling handwriting covers them, glyphs from some language not innately hardwired into me. "I can teach you how to read this," he offers after catching me staring for the fourth time. Weird. Weirder, when he pulls me off the window seat---he actually has windows in his room---and places paper and a pen on the low table.

"I just want food," I whisper. The slightly green surface is glossy, almost waxy. Maybe it's made out of kelp or seaweed? It can't be normal paper to survive down here. It probably won't hurt me. The food at home can be burnt charcoal---Paul's skill in the kitchen varies---and I still manage to choke that down without dying. 

"Don't eat that!" He snatches the parchment out of my hands and tries to smooth it down. "You're worse than a toddler." I'm not insulted by the comparison, because the joke's on him. If he hands me a box of Cheerios, nothing will stop me from shoveling them into my mouth by the handful. Do they have something similar to them down here? They'd be easier to store. It's a tempting question, but since it's food related, Triton will brush it off.  At a certain point, it stopped seeming like telling a whining child in the backseat that there's food at home, and more like driving them in circles until they're starving so you can push them out and drive away.

The door opens. "Triton?" Amphitrite asks. She takes a step into the room, but doesn't come any closer. "Can I steal her away for a bit?"

"Is lunch ready?" Triton gathers his papers, winding ribbon around them. "Took them long enough. I was worried she'd start trying to eat me." He stretches and, with an elegant flick of his wrist, sends the scrolls flying back to their honeycomb shelves. "What are we having?"

"Actually, your father wants you to sit in with the council. There are some...things being discussed that he doesn't wish to get out of hand." The way she hesitated makes my fingers flutter against my leg, and her words make Triton groan. It's not hard to imagine there are things Dad won't want discussed around me, or even just things she doesn't think she should share. But it's the way she said it. 

It's almost angry. Snapped out. The pause between the words seems steeped in the disdain I'm used to from gods. That, at least, is a familiarity. So it's something that Dad doesn't want shared with me, and she's annoyed that she has to change how she'd talk around her son. Simple, easy, and what I hope is true.

She hides a smile after Triton flops backwards."Oh, hush. I'll make sure some is saved for you. Depths forbid you have to eat the same food as the councilors. Percy, come along."