Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Sun was an ally to many. Not for any deep act of respect, truly, but for the smaller favors they completed for their fellow divine. They enjoyed observing more often than not. The Sun observed wars and secret meetings alike; they stayed out of conflicts at times purely because they did not want to move or deal with the divinities down below. They stayed in their temple within the sun, where none but the titan Helios could bother them.

Phoebus did not mind the titan Helios at all. It would be disrespectful to mind, would it not be? The titan had given them his cattle, his temple and his fame. Respect was the least he deserved in return. They’d done him more favors than others. He visited at times when he was not busy. Their relationship was odd, through Phoebus’s eyes. The titan Helios refused to let them do much when he visited. He treated them like a prince, not that they could truly complain.

The constant warmth from the sun made them all the colder when they visited the Earth below. Every gust of wind made them shudder, even when under their direct rays. They only really visited the Earth to see their sister, Alphaea. The Huntress stuck to the forests, sharing the Moon with the titaness Selene. Phoebus adored their sister next to none but their mother Leto.

Though they found themself with their feet on the surface of the Earth once more, they had not descended to visit their sister this time. Instead, their senses have been taken by a call to the sea, not the forest. Their eyes wandered to the bracera boat that floated aimlessly within the water they stood upon. An infant was cradled within the Lord of the Sea’s arms, wrapped in a byssus-threaded swaddle. Phoebus slowly yet surely climbed the railing of the boat, finding the mother asleep on the other side where they could not see.

At the sound of weightless steps on the wooden slabs of the bow, the lord raised his eyes, wide with paranoia. Phoebus let out a soft huff of amusement, carefully quiet as to not wake the infant before them. Piercing sea-green eyes met their own and softened almost immediately at the sight of the sun god.

Phoebus was not one to snitch to the King God. They kept their mouth shut when questioned, earning the trust of divinities aplenty. Perhaps that was why he trusted them with such an odd secret. The Oath was a powerful thing; if the King God or Lord of the Dead knew of their brother’s broken promise, they’d surely kill the child, even go after the Sea Lord if they so pleased.

“Delius, I am grateful for your presence,”

The Sea Lord’s murmur broke them from their haze of thought, barely heard over the waves crashing around them all. Phoebus hummed distractedly in response, eyeing the infant curiously. They knelt down by the Sea Lord’s side to have a better look at the creature the elder god seemed so stubborn to protect. The little one, a boy it seemed, shared traits with its father; dark hair that curled at the edges, long fingers that curled around its father’s own, pale skin from the lack of their beloved sunlight. Phoebus found the little creature adorable. They glanced back up to stare at the lord that held it, who only stared down at his son.

“What have you named him?”

They wondered aloud, their hands clasped together in front of their chest. The Lord before them merely hummed back in reply. There was a beat of silence, though the sounds of the sea below and the soft snores of the woman in front of them broke it at times. The poor mortal thing seemed so tired. Had she just given birth, they wondered? The infant looked new, at least, newer than most. If they hadn’t known better, they’d have thought her dead.

“His mother has named him Perseus, though asks we call him Percy.”

The Lord replied quietly, shifting his hold as the infant squirmed and whined. For the baby to cry would mean the mother would wake up on instinct. From the dark circles beneath her eyes, it was obvious as to why the Lord of Seas wished for her to stay asleep, ever the most loving partner. Phoebus adored those who loved with their whole selves. The Lord of Seas was no stranger to such a thing, and no stranger to the Sun’s blessings.

Phoebus kept their gaze on the infant, even as it began to stir in its father’s arms. Oh, how they wished to hold the little creature in their own arms. They would not carry it away, like Lord Domatites seemed so stubbornly convinced they would. They adored children, having many of their own. How long had it been since they’d sent a sun beam down to visit their children? They should visit their little ones while they still have the time to roam Grandmother Gaea's realm.

“An adorable little thing you’ve made, my Lord,”

They whispered, careful not to disturb the little one as it woke slowly. They found the annoyance in its gaze from being awakened amusing.Though it did not take long for them to find a child such as this adorable, Phoebus could not help but feel the light yet familiar pull of obsession. They smiled down softly at the creature before them. They pondered their wants for a moment, just a mere moment. Phoebus was a spontaneous god, fellow divinities have said. Yet, despite the lord’s knowledge of their reputation, it still surprised them that they were allowed to get so close.

After yet another minute of waiting, they hesitantly laid their head on the harder spot of the infant’s forehead. Their skin radiated warmth and light as their blessing ran through the infant like a wave.

“Perseus Jackson shall never be ill nor hungry. Never shall he break a bone nor feel the pain of pierced organs. Their skin shall be painless when cut, their blood may give only warmth when spilt.”

They murmured, earning a soft yet prideful grin from the Sea Lord beside them. Their form shone bright as a star as the blessing was passed, their hair sliding past their shoulders and surrounding the infant like a curtain. Finally, when the blessing was fully passed, Phoebus withdrew their hand with a final tap to the boy’s nose. They glowed warmly at the joyful gurgle they’d earned.

Though they gave out blessings often, this one was special. Never before has anyone less than a minor god gotten such protection from the Sun itself. Phoebus was a regular sight, sure, but still powerful. They knew better than to give out such protective spells to just anyone, and they were sure the Sea Lord knew of that. His infant was special, would be special for a very long time, in mortal years.

They would keep this little one a close-kept secret, surely. Never would the Lord of Seas have to worry for his boy’s safety against the King God, for the Sun would look out for the boy in his youth. Perhaps they could drag their sister into their protection ward, keeping the boy even safer within the forests that surrounded New York. They knew their sister adored children, though the girls more so than the boys, they were sure she would protect this one by their request.

The two gods took their time in watching the infant before them, allowing the mother to rest with Phoebus’s generous protection against sunburn. Their gaze landed on her once more, almost piercing as they stared. They could not blame the Sea Lord for breaking the Oath for her. She didn’t seem like someone even a god would say no to. Phoebus certainly wouldn’t.

She was utterly beautiful, even seeming so sickly. Phoebus found themself daring to be jealous of the Sea Lord for finding her first. Her hair was long and unruly, a copper color bordering a dull red. Her skin was tanned by the sun, her hands calloused with work. They could not see her eyes, though they doubted the color was anything less than enchanting. Lord Domatites seemed grateful to have her, with how they’d seen him stare at her.

It was odd to see the mighty Lord of the Sea looking so raggedly human. Though his form was still that of those blessed by Lady Aphrodite, he seemed so mortal with the infant cradled in his arms, how he stared at it. Then again, Lord Domatites was always the god to love his children the closest and loudest, so unashamed with his pride of his children when he had them. The last child they remembered him having, he allowed them to live in Atlantis with him. No one had seen her since then, though they assumed she lived a happier life.

Phoebus focused back onto the infant before them, finding it grinning up at them. Its little arms reached up for their hair, which had fallen to surround the boy and its father’s arms. Lord Domatites did not seem to mind their hair on him, they realized with relief. One could never be too sure with elder gods.

The sun god allowed the infant to grab at their hair, finding it too unreasonable to be upset at the sudden touch. They knew better than to blame an infant for its ignorance, its mind too simple for a concept like respect. Adding on the fact that this was a child of an elder god was another thing. When the infant grew to know better, they would not let its actions slide for its status, not like others. They were a kind god, but not an easy one.

Phoebus moved to stare at the elder god beside them, a sudden curiosity overtaking them. Lord Domatites surely hadn’t called for them just to admire his new seachild. Surely he needed something, else they would not have been called, but invited. It was odd, having such a show of respect from such a powerful Lord.

“My Lord, why have you called upon me?”

They wondered aloud, catching the Sea Lord’s ears easily. His gaze turned to the sun god as he eyed them with a new wariness. This gaze, they were used to. Nearly every god was used to Lord Domatites’s wariness. To their surprise, Lord Domatites turned to face them fully, the infant held tighter in his arms as it took a strand of Phoebus’s hair with it when jostled. Thankfully, their hair was long enough that it was not pulled with the new distance between the two.

“Phoebus Apollo, if I have done you any favor, then I ask you hear this one wish,”

The Sea Lord paused, awaiting their answer. There was a feeling one would get in order to know a god was listening, one even the eldest of deities had to wait for in order to officially pray, to be heard. Phoebus themself felt a shiver rush down their bones at the calling, the subtle taste of sea salt on their tongue as their power answered for them in such close proximity. When the full warmth of the sun washed over Lord Domatites, he continued.

“I ask for your official protection for my son, Perseus Achilles Jackson. I ask that you watch over him as he grows, until he is capable of caring for himself against the creatures that wish to harm him. May I ask that you care for him in my stead, when I am unable to answer his prayers nor comfort him when ill or harmed.”

It was an odd thing to hear from a deity older than themself. Phoebus nearly preened at the prayer laid out before them. Elder deities were usually the ones to be prayed to by the younger gods, the mortalborne and such. Obviously, they would agree to his terms, no sane creature would dare say no to a deity as powerful as the Lord of Seas.

“Of course, dearest Lord. I may care for him when you are busy, may heal him when sick and protect him when in harm’s way. He will forever be in my sights as long as he stays beneath the sky. I will care for him as my own when you cannot, and will forever answer his prayers, no matter how small.”

They replied, their form shining with the official promise. The infant dropped their hair, spooked by the sudden light shining down from the palm of its hand. Phoebus nearly lost their composure at the sight, though stayed strong as the answer seeped into the air. Only once the prayer felt truly complete did both gods relax again.

“Even without your prayers, Lord, I would have cared for the boy,”

Phoebus murmured, hands clasped together once more as they moved to sit at Lord Domatites’s side again. The Sea Lord merely hummed in response, watching his son reach out for the warmth the sun god produced. Wide, Sea-Green eyes stared up at Phoebus curiously once more, the infant seemingly overjoyed with having Phoebus within its sight again.

The sun god decided then, that this demigod was their favorite. Not above their own children, not above their sister nor mother, but very, very close behind them.