ToZ Bk 1: These Three Kings
Copyright© 2024 by Carlos Santiago
Chapter 11: Claim of the King Beneath the Waves
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 11: Claim of the King Beneath the Waves - 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
“ ... to Poseidon the dominion of the sea...”
— Apollodorus of Athens, The Library (Bibliotheca / Βιβλιοθήκη), Book 1, Chapter 2, Section 1 (§1.2.1). Composed c. 2nd century CE. Translated by Sir James George Frazer. First published in Apollodorus: The Library, Vol. I of the Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann Ltd., 1921. Public domain.
As the raucous celebrations of the peace brokered between Oceanus and Pontus echoed throughout Oceanus’ palace, Poseidon seized a moment of respite amidst the clamor by sneaking away from the revelry.
He made his way towards the quiet shores that lay just beyond the palace walls.
Parties were events that he enjoyed, and why should he not? He was the sort of god that liked a good celebration, especially when he was the center of the celebration.
However, this kind of festivity felt forced to him.
This had not been how he had intended to lay claim to the sea. He was glad that gaining Pontus’ support was met with glee, but even as he thought about the last few days, his instincts told him that the circumstances around the last few days were not over. There would be more to be done.
He would eventually need to call upon Prometheus.
Even as he thought about it, Pontus, Poseidon, Prometheus ... So many P’s ... If he ever had a son, he would need to make sure not to use such a common letter. An A or a T would do, certainly.
A laugh almost escaped his lips. How stupid of a concept that bothered him. He could surely have children. That was not an impossibility, but thinking of them was an overreach of his life, surely.
After peace had been brokered, he would need to build a palace, ensuring there was an area for Oceanus, which would make the old Titan happy. The fact that his uncle had not tried to fight with him was a good sign. That sort of process needed to keep working in Poseidon’s favor.
Once that was all done, the second son of Cronos needed to see how his fun-loving, adventure of a kingdom meshed with Zeus’ Olympus, and Hades’ Underworld.
There had been some whisperings of some creatures called ‘Mortals’. Poseidon did not know what they were, but Prometheus and Epimetheus did not shut up about them during the Great War.
What that meant for tomorrow, Poseidon did not know. For Tartarus’ sake, he did not know what it meant for the moment truth be told.
All of those thoughts were swirling in his mind upon reaching the secluded beach. Poseidon found Pontus there. His watery form was still alien to the young god, but the shining figure under the moonlit sky gave the supposed-Primordial an empyrean aura.
Cetus was there as well in all of his inhuman form. His configuration might be monstrous to some, but to Poseidon, Cetus’ appearance was made to make him unparalleled in matters of existing in the ocean. Even if he was not a true friend to Poseidon, this distinction would have made him wonderful to the sea god.
“Pontus,” Poseidon called. “Don’t you want to enjoy the party?”
The brother of Zeus and Hades knew that Cetus was for aquatic life, not one on land.
“I am not usually one for such festivities,” Pontus commented. “No one, until today, has ever invited me to them.”
The Primordial of the Sea paused momentarily in a struggle to add to this information.
“Also ... I do not think that Oceanus’ family would enjoy having me under their roof after ten years of conflict.”
“The children liked you well enough,” Poseidon commented with a kind laugh.
Pontus returned the laugh of the second son of Cronos.
“You are so simple, my king.”
Poseidon laughed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“Yeah. Prometheus would tell you that it is one of my worst qualities.”
Pontus laughed, “Maybe, but I suppose here, it helps.”
The recollection of the battles repeated in his mind. This destroyed any joviality he might have had. When his laughter died in his throat, Pontus continued.
“The children do not understand what the older ones know so well. Oceanus turned his children against me, and the animosity has built up. After all, while I did not kill any of his kind, I did maim many of them repeatedly.”
Poseidon paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before speaking.
“Yeah ... About that ... I have been meaning to ask you about that. Why were you and Oceanus fighting?”
“Oceanus envisioned a future where the ocean teems with his countless offspring,” Pontus remarked.
That sounded about right when it came to Oceanus. Many of the Primordials and Titans had propagated to fill out many facets of existence.
“Why would that be so bad?” Poseidon wondered.
“Too many beings within the ocean will disrupt its delicate balance,” Pontus answered. “The beauty of the ocean is that it just is, Poseidon. The waves need to rock back and forth. The kelp and life it naturally cultivates needs to just ... be.”
Poseidon listened because he believed that Pontus deserved as much reverence as Oceanus. They were both old, but more than that detail (which some would have ignored), Oceanus had thrown his whole family at Pontus, and he had been held off by this solitary being. A long war had shown the difficulty of such a feat. The fact that Pontus had only harmed the Oceanids, rather than killing them, was also impressive.
Outwardly, all Poseidon could do was nod.
“Trust me. I get it. That’s one of those things I just love about the sea.”
Pontus regarded Poseidon with a mixture of surprise and appreciation.
“I’m glad you can see my point of view,” he acknowledged, a note of gratitude in his voice. “But I told Oceanus that I worried that if he continued propagating with Tethys the sea would become overcrowded with his offspring and their offspring, they would ruin the sea’s majesty.”
Poseidon nodded in agreement. His gaze drifted towards the endless expanse of the sea.
“That makes sense, but you can’t have the entirety of the ocean to yourself.”
Poseidon considered Pontus and Oceanus’ needs carefully. During the Great War, Prometheus and Metis would consider every problem from every point of view before offering suggestions for success.
That was not a gift of Poseidon. Nevertheless, he was trying to think of alternatives, so that conflict was not the future of the sea.
“What if I will build an underwater palace?” Poseidon suggested. “And there we can decide how many beings can exist in its waters without overwhelming its natural splendor?”
Pontus regarded Poseidon with a newfound respect. The Primordial was no fool. He had lived a harder life than most. He understood when a compromise was meant to help preserve what was while also considering a future of change. This conclusion would not be perfect, but it was better than never-ending fighting.
“You would do this?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“I would,” he affirmed before letting out a laugh. “You might be older than me but I love the sea as much as you both. I’m more of a ‘go with the flow sort of deity’ though. If there’s a problem, there’s no way it can’t be easily fixed.”
Pontus stared bewildered by the offer. He wondered if this little god’s brain was addled. Perhaps he had taken some substance to inhibit his thinking skills.
“For that, if you truly mean it, the least I can do is find you a place for this palace.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Poseidon said with a laugh.
“Perhaps not, but I know I am not very welcome here, and the sea is my home. I know of a place or two where I might help establish your kingdom.”
Poseidon could not help but laugh even more at the offer but he nodded.
“Though, might I take Cetus with me, so he can tell me if the location will be to your liking?”
Poseidon nodded.
“Would that be all right with you, my friend?”
As the waves washed against the sands and the stars glittered overhead, Cetus nodded.
Rather than waste any time, the two departed from Poseidon’s sight.
The dimly lit healing hall had the gentle breathing of the wounded (and sleeping) Oceanids and Nereids filling the air with sound, but on this evening, two more accompanied the injured.
Tethys sat Galaxaura down. As the Oceanid in charge of this portion of the palace, it only made sense for Tethys to be alone with her.
However, the child (though grown) did not understand the need for her mother to take her aside as she did.
“Mother?” Galaxaura asked, careful. “Why the secrecy?”
“In a moment, Daughter,” Tethys said.
After checking the surroundings, she sat down on a bed across from her daughter. There was still distant celebrations. No one knew where either Oceanus and Poseidon went. However, that did not matter to the festivities.
The atmosphere was too infectiously joyous to be concerned with such trivialities.
“With everything going on, I have been meaning to speak with you,” Tethys remarked
“Why is that?” Galaxaura wondered.
The child looked upon her mother with suspicion. Secrecy was one thing; the urgency in her mother’s voice was quite another. A conspiracy to do something evil felt more circumspect than whatever it was that Tethys was trying to do.
“How popular is Poseidon with the Oceanids and Nereids?” Tethys inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.
Hiding her concern was not of the highest priority, so the Sea Queen allowed the emotions to show on her face.
Galaxaura shrugged nonchalantly in reply even as her gaze drifted towards the slumbering forms of her kin.
“The ladies, and some of the girls, love him because he is ... fun,” she replied cryptically, allowing the implication to hang in the air.
While there was mild uncertainty as to what the Oceanid meant, the mother was intelligent enough to decipher what was meant.
Tethys paused to make sure she was discerning the unspoken truths hidden within Galaxaura’s words correctly. She could not help but wonder how long Poseidon’s charm had led him to engage in dalliances with some of her children.
While she was not one to judge; after all, marriage was a unique concept for the divine. The Greater Titans had all married because they were the special children of Gaia and Ouranos. Marriage was their tradition. Some of the nymphs were closer to Nyx in that they would take lovers but never commit to a lifelong bond with someone.
There was nothing wrong with another way of life in Tethys’ mind. However, as she realized how many of her daughters the sea god must have lain with, a dark thought crossed her mind.
“Girls?” Tethys asked.
Her instincts as a mother overriding her curiosity about her ambitious nephew. While she liked him well enough, Tethys did believe age was a factor in picking a partner. When one was too young or still a child, then the other should know well enough to stay away, and if they did not, she would do what was needed to ensure that he did.
For a moment, Galaxaura did not understand the question. When the worry on her mother’s face persisted, she understood the inquiry.
“Oh no! It’s not like that, Mother,” she explained. “The women have time with him, the girls want time with him, but Poseidon likes his food to have a certain... maturity ... if you understand...”
Tethys stifled a laugh with one hand, but she nodded and motioned for her daughter to continue with her other hand.
“The males like him because he was strong enough to defeat Pontus,” Galaxaura continued.
Whether she meant to or not, her tone betrayed a sense of admiration for his accomplishment.
“Ah ... The boys want to be him, and the girls want to be with him,” Tethys observed with the wisdom of a Titan.
“Is this something you have encountered before?” Galaxaura wondered.
“The young admire those in power,” Tethys said, looking off into the distance with both fond and not so fond memories. “The Titans did the same with Ouranos. That is what started many of the problems on and under Olympus,” Tethys explained.
While her daughter was dissecting the information, Tethys continued.
“If your siblings had to choose ... whom they would have dinner with ... who would win?” Tethys pressed, her mind contemplating the implications of Poseidon’s popularity among her offspring.
At a moment such as this, she found herself recalling the popularity of Cronos versus Ouranos right before the siblings attacked the Primordial King. If such a reality were to come true for the sea, Tethys knew she would also be destroyed with Oceanus.
That outcome would not do for the Queen of the Sea.
“My siblings, nieces, and nephews admire Poseidon more than they love Father, Mother, if that’s what you’re asking,” Galaxaura replied with a knowing look.
Her words carried the weight of truth but lacked the seasoning of judgment. The Oceanid wanted her mother to know that this fact was not born from anger.
“Father has had us fighting Pontus without any progress for years. That’s not easily forgotten, Mother. Every Oceanid has been in this room. They have scars that remind them of Father’s ... passion.”
There it was. The reminder that her husband was not the Titan he used to be. Oh to go back in time to when he loved the simple joys in life, but ... momentarily, a harder truth than her daughter’s words struck her: That time was gone and would never come again.
“You mean his obsession,” Tethys corrected.
Galaxaura nodded.
Though Tethys had kept her emotions in check, and she absorbed the revelation with a sense of resignation, her weariness with Oceanus’ unyielding fixation with the sea was deepening with each passing moment.
She found herself questioning her husband’s decisions. Understanding that Poseidon was going to be the new king of the sea, no matter what Oceanus said or felt, was a far easier task to undertake by comparison. It did not help that Tethys’ children were not the only ones longing for respite from the endless turmoil against Pontus.
As the night descended upon the depths of the Grecian sea, Pontus and Cetus glided effortlessly through the dark waters. Their forms cut through the currents with graceful precision as they were being of the briny abyss.
Cetus had been made for the waters and Pontus was of the water.
Around them, the faint glow of bioluminescent creatures illuminated their path as they were entering the deepest parts of the sea. The lights lent a particular beauty to the vast expanse of the ocean depths that only they could properly appreciate.
Rather than allow the quietness of the ocean to bother them, Pontus asked Cetus a question.
Why do you serve Poseidon? Pontus’ mental voice echoed softly through Cetus’ mind rather than the water that swirled around them.
Cetus considered Pontus’s question thoughtfully as he swam through the water. He cut through the liquid faster and with more power than anything created by the brothers Prometheus and Epimetheus.
He is both my creator and my first friend, he replied with a deep sense of loyal affection. He is not driven by prestige like his brothers or father. People matter to him far more than things.
Pontus accepted the information with a nod. Poseidon seemed a reasonable person in an unreasonable existence. For that thought, he had considered a few places to look where they would put Poseidon’s palace, but he had to think of those like Oceanus. There would come a day when someone would want to make war with Poseidon, and Pontus would make sure that they would struggle to find the abode first, and that they would struggle to attack it.
I have seen those qualities in him, he conceded. Sensing a hint of hesitation in Cetus’ demeanor, Pontus gently probed further. Is all well?
Cetus hesitated for a moment in answering. The weight of his thoughts were heavy. The sea monster had not allowed anyone other than Poseidon to know his deepest thoughts, but Pontus was of the sea, and quickly becoming a true friend to Poseidon, so that meant they must be worthy of some confidences. If Pontus was to be trusted, Cetus would have to believe in him entirely or not at all.
Poseidon is struggling, he admitted slowly.
His concern mingled with his words like the salt in the water around them. Any admission of faults about his creator and companion felt like the deepest betrayal.
However, in moments such as these, a burden shared between two individuals was made lighter than a misfortune suffered alone.
He is made for battle, parties, and celebration. The Fire Titan often sees him as immature for those qualities. Cetus paused, shaking his enormous head.
He was unsure how to continue. While Pontus was near invisible to other creatures, as he blended in nearly perfectly to the water around them, Cetus could see his faint outline. Pontus motioned for Cetus to go on.
This encouragement was all the sea monster needed because the motion signified that this Primordial cared for their mutual friend.
I think Poseidon is divided between the mature king Prometheus and those on Olympus will expect him to be, and the fun-loving warrior that he is.
Pontus offered a reassuring smile. His eyes lit up with a sense of camaraderie.
That is not cause for worry, he reassured Cetus, his gaze drifting towards a deep crater on the seafloor. It was illuminated by the soft glow of bioluminescent algae. You and I can worry about making him be a good king, so that Poseidon can still have fun.
Cetus loosed his equivalent of a sigh before he nodded in agreement. Pontus’ words strengthened Cetus’ resolve. Thank you, Sea Being.
Pontus could not help but laugh as Poseidon had. Call me Pontus or friend, Cetus.
Together, they continued their journey through the depths of the sea.
Now! What do you think of this?” Pontus asked, motioning to the crater.
Cetus let out a noise that told Pontus that he had doubts.
Fine! Fine! It’s only the first spot I thought of!
The two laughed, continuing on through the ocean. They had all night to find something for Poseidon, and they would do well for their friend and king.
As the quiet solitude of the night set in, Poseidon sat amidst the dim glow of moonlight. Isolation allowed his attention to be focused intently on his cherished weapons on the quiet beach.
They had never done him wrong.
His sword was a masterful creation from before the Great War. He had not known how important these weapons were when the Cyclopes and Hecatoncheires had gifted them to him.
The weapon had a blade of gold with an emerald tinge that glittered in the soft light. The hilt was a mix of turquoise and moss colors. The metal was as familiar in his hand as the Zeus’ golden fist was to the Thunderer’s hand or the Hooks’ chains were in Hades’ grip.
He rubbed the flat of the sword, cleaning it. While the divine weapons did not need to be washed, he always made sure to take care of his possessions.
Beside him rested his mighty Trident that glinted an ocean’s blue with a tinge of silver. The three prongs of his trident were black.
These were not the colors or styles of the weapons, Poseidon meticulously observed. They had changed over the years, he realized. They were not mere tools of war; they were extensions of himself, forged in the fires of conflict and imbued with the essence of his power by the children of Gaia and Ouranos.
For that alone, he had been ever-grateful to his distant uncles.
He was so consumed by these thoughts that he did not notice as someone approached.
“What lovely instruments,” a voice said at a distance.
He looked up to see Tethys. Her presence was like a breath of fresh river air that could sweep over any chamber of her palace. On the beach, she came across more lovely than any ocean creature.
Clad in a gown of nearly-sheer ethereal white and silver, she exuded a graceful, transcendental elegance that stole Poseidon’s attention.
He all but dropped his sword. But recalling their importance, he was careful to set the weapon down, next to the three pronged tool.
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