ToZ Bk 1: These Three Kings
Copyright© 2024 by Carlos Santiago
Chapter 9: Poseidon’s Promise
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 9: Poseidon’s Promise - In the aftermath of the Great Titan War, the sons of Cronos—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—draw straws to determine their realms. Zeus claims Greece and Olympus, Poseidon takes the sea, and Hades becomes the ruler of the Underworld. Follow their personal journeys as they acclimate to their new responsibilities and face the challenges that come with their newfound power.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Fan Fiction High Fantasy War Alternate History Far Past Paranormal Magic Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Grand Parent Cream Pie Exhibitionism Big Breasts Body Modification Nudism Revenge Royalty Violence
“The sea does not like to be restrained.”
— Poseidon, The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan. First published June 28, 2005, by Disney-Hyperion, New York. Copyright © 2005 by Rick Riordan. All rights reserved.
Poseidon stood at the edge of the sea when the first light of dawn came to paint the sky in shades of orange and pink. He looked upon the horizon where the waters met the sky, and he knew where his destiny had finally led him, and he felt joy. Since in the belly of his father, he had enjoyed liquid.
The acid had harmed Hades far more than Poseidon, but the second son of Cronos had also been afflicted by the fluids of his father’s belly. However, in time, with his divine essence, Poseidon had found a way to ensure that he was hurt far less by the dangers. He found life full of possibilities even when trapped, and this led him to having such a boisterous personality. There were alternative opportunities everywhere.
This had led him to being a great warrior, a creator of Cetus, and suddenly a king.
Only the day prior had Zeus been crowned King on Mount Olympus. Poseidon had been given reign of the sea. Hades, of course, had been given the Underworld.
In that gift, there was an injustice. Hades did not deserve the solitude of the Lands of the Dead. However, someone had to rule the blasted area. It was best that the Realm went to Hades and not to Zeus or Poseidon.
If it had gone to Poseidon, he would have gone mad and screamed out for freedom and found a way to slip his responsibilities. However, the worst conclusion of all was the chance of Zeus reigning over the Underworld. While Poseidon loved both of his brothers (and in a way he related to Zeus more), he also understood the shortcomings of his younger sibling.
He was a selfish prick of a person when he wanted to. If he did not get his way, he would find a way to make it everyone else’s problem. If he was made ruler of the dead, he would likely wait for there to be an army of dead souls that were loyal to him before unleashing them irresponsibly upon the lands of Greece because he felt slighted by night by not being made King of Olympus.
Zeus enjoyed having his whims obeyed ... So much so that Poseidon understood that Zeus would drown the Realm in fire and water if any denied him his pleasure after too long. Giving Zeus what he wanted was easier, and boredom would lead to Zeus’ ruin rather than everyone else’s.
Zeus was like Poseidon in some ways; one of which was that they both needed an adventure. For Poseidon, the Sea was and would forever be his adventure.
During the war, the lands of Greece and Olympus had always been the focus, but only through the perspective of the conflict. Each battle was repetitive in the idea that they would wake up and fight, but each struggle was different.
In peace, there would be new differences to be had. Poseidon knew that in his instincts. He did not need to think like Hades or only care about himself like Zeus. Zeus was not a bad person, but he would not care like Hades and Poseidon.
The Underworld and the ocean had been domains that the deities of Greece had overlooked. Poseidon, for all his love of the water, knew that he would be responsible for the oceans. This truth meant taming a rough landscape, but oh what a joy to be had for this son of Cronos.
Prometheus came to join Poseidon in his usual quiet strength of wisdom. In the adventure of looking over the ocean (as well as the divinities within it), Prometheus could be instrumental in helping Poseidon.
The air was crisp with the promise of a new day within the Grecian Realm, and the waves whispered of times immemorial for those who listened. In this skill, Poseidon listened because he loved this part of existence.
Poseidon could feel the call of the ocean almost all of his life. This moment was no different. The flow of water made him feel alive. There was a deep, primal urge that pulsed within his veins that neither Hades nor Zeus could understand.
To have drawn the middle straw was only providence from the Moirai themselves. He would claim his birthright as King of the Seas and have the lifelong adventure that he so desperately wished to claim.
“It is time,” Prometheus declared. “Are you ready?”
Even as he spoke, Prometheus was as solemn as ever. His expression was a grave resolution, for her understood the complexities of existence while Poseidon did not. One loved fun; the other loved structured order.
Poseidon let out a nervous laugh. “I think so.”
Prometheus turned his head to give Poseidon a stern expression. This was his one moment to prepare the young god for the fray he was walking into. Prometheus would be a poor steward at his job if he did not do so.
This task will not be without its burdens, Poseidon,” Prometheus lectured slowly. “The Great War may have tested your strength, but rulership tests your patience, your pride, and your willingness to bend. Through understanding and compromise, you will go through the truest of crucibles to be a king.”
Poseidon flashed a confident smile, his sea-green eyes shining with determination. This was his adventure. He would not balk simply because it was difficult.
“I know. You did warn me before,” Poseidon remarked, bristling. “I won’t pretend I’m not nervous, Prometheus, but I’ve always wanted this.”
With that declaration, Prometheus strode forward on the rocky shore. Poseidon followed towards the sea. They would likely ride on Cetus. While they could teleport to the lands of Oceanus, they had not been there since before the Great War was in full swing. Going to a location without knowing what was going on was a recipe for disaster, and Prometheus would not allow such foolishness, so they would travel there the old fashioned way.
Destiny would bring a new era to the realm of the oceans soon enough. What did it matter if they transversed its distance in a moment or in hours?
The sun reached its zenith in the sky even as the waters churned violently. The light of Helios might have been seen as marvelous if not for those roiling, tumultuous waves.
In those whitecaps, a brother of Cronos stood proudly as the ancient Titan of the seas. A battle was unfolding before Oceanus, and by his mature countenance, the circumstances were grave.
He marshaled his forces against the formidable foe that stood over so many of his children and wife. Tethys was a beautiful Titaness of light complexion, full body, and silver-blonde hair that had a sheen of sky-blue. Her usually soft, regal appearance was transformed into one of resolution as she directed the Oceanids (children of Oceanus) and Nereids (grandchildren of Oceanus from the line of Nereus and Doris) in their valiant efforts to hold back the relentless tide of destruction.
For all their years together, Oceanus could see the sorrow in her eyes. These battles were not the life he had thought that he would be giving his children to inherit. The oceans were vast enough to keep himself and his family satisfied for all of eternity, yet even with the combined might of Oceanus’ children being brought to this task, they were no match for the sheer power of Pontus, the supposed-Primordial of the Grecian Sea itself.
Pontus was brought into creation by Gaia’s tears in lamentation of her husband’s death by the hands of Cronos. Within Gaia was a small piece of Chaos’ primal creative forces, and when the two pieces mixed, it created the towering being who was taller than any on this battlefield. His form was ever-changing like liquid fire as he unleashed torrents of the ocean’s reservoir upon his foes with devastating force.
This Primordial stood over a hundred feet in height. His appearance was of an ancient male, complete with an aquatic beard. From the neck down, powerful muscles made of salty liquid outlined his physique. While his flesh was made of the sea itself, he was still as solid as that of muscle and bone in terms of offense but malleable in terms of defense.
Because of his fluid form, their best efforts appeared to have little effect on Pontus. They threw attacks of ice, hail, lightning, heat, and smoke in an infinite combination.
For every blow they landed, the form of the Primordial recoiled in pain, and the damage seemed intense, but within a few moments, he simply reformed his liquid body. His very essence, much to Oceanus and his forces’ chagrin, pulsated with an otherworldly vitality that defied even divine comprehension.
Once the supposed-Primordial reformed, all that they had done was undone, and for all their mighty energies, the forces of Oceanus were showing signs of exhaustion as Pontus returned their onslaught with an attack of his own.
Regardless of the impossibility of the task of defeating, the family continued to battle o beneath the scorching sun; the cries of the Oceanids and Nereids lost their luster as they reverberated across the waves.
Tethys turned away from the sight. A tear of watching her children and grandchildren continue such a fruitless fight stole any joy she might have had as the Titan Queen of the Sea.
Prometheus and Poseidon approached Oceanus’ magnificent palace once they landed. Poseidon had been able to ride the waves, making them propel him from one location to the other, by way of his trident’s power. Prometheus had been forced to ride Cetus to keep up. Prometheus could use his divine power to manipulate the surface of the water to become solid under his feet and run from one coast to another. However, the speed at which Poseidon moved was exceedingly faster than the pace Prometheus could set or maintain.
Nonetheless, they had come to Oceanus’ island, and when they arrived, they were greeted by a mixture of both awe-inspiring beauty and subtle devastation.
A structure Poseidon had seen once before rose majestically from the shore. Its grand towers were crowned with spires that seemed to touch the heavens themselves. Very few placed in existence could laud such splendor. However, it did not take long for either Olympic deity to obtain a closer inspection. Recent conflict had come to this place and given cracks to mar the once immaculate walls. Sections of the palace’s exterior had been scorched or broken by some object slamming into them at great speed.
This gave Prometheus pause, for while the palace retained its regal elegance in terms of shape and outline, the details were ruined. There were once intricate carvings depicting scenes of oceanic life adorning the walls, but as he looked, he could see chips, scrapes, and markings that warned of a destructive force that hated artistic beauty as much as Oceanus.
When they entered the courtyard, Poseidon could not help but feel a pang of regret at the sight of the damage. He could relate far more to Oceanus than Prometheus could.
Prometheus may have been a lesser titan, allowing him to share in a certain heritage of distinction, but Oceanus was a Greater Titan. To be birthed of the royal line of Ouranos and Gaia was a distinct honor that only twelve beings had. Of those twelve, it was Cronos and Rhea who had birthed the three kings of Poseidon, Hades, and Zeus. In that way, there was a link that Prometheus could not have because he was not born to the calling.
Furthermore, Poseidon loved the sea. Whether it was made by Pontus, Oceanus, or from Chaos making the Primordials, no one knew for certain, but the vast waters with the sky above was where Poseidon found his affinity after being locked up in a tiny prison of his father’s belly.
For those coupled reasons, Poseidon admired Oceanus and all that he had. The Titan had built up the building to house him and his children. Poseidon might not want a large family, but a sizable home was enviable from his perspective, and he was coming to take the domain that he and the Titan both loved.
Shaking his head, he almost wished he did not have to. He had been to Oceanus’ Palace before the Great Titan War, and he had always admired the building that the Titan had constructed, as well as the person.
His distracted thoughts were interrupted when a beautiful young Oceanid appeared before him. She wore the traditional colors of Oceanus in that of blue and silver. Poseidon had known of those details when he ran off from the Great War to have some fun.
“Greetings, Poseidon and Prometheus. I am Galaxaura,” she said with a polite smile. “My father has been expecting envoys from Olympus for some time now.”
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