The Spartan of Olympus

7

"Milord, the time is nearing, and we need to prepare," Delphin advised the lord of the sea.

Poseidon nodded, staring down at the extensive and detailed map of the ocean. 2015: only approximately two years away. Oceanus's threat was still present, and small skirmishes had broken out in the Indian Ocean, drawing parts of his army towards that location. Poseidon's hair had become slightly grayer, representing the strength and condition of his kingdom, and the danger they were in was grave. The Kraken was never recovered, meaning that Oceanus was indeed planning on using it in his army. Poseidon sighed, his thoughts drifting to his son, Percy. Poseidon knew Percy was somehow involved in the Great Prophecy, whether he was the main prophecy kid or not. He rubbed his temples, trying to imagine the amount of pressure that would be put on Percy's shoulders. But he needed to stop worrying about his son; Percy could take care of himself, whatever the circumstance.

Poseidon felt slender arms wrap around his waist and felt a warm body press against his back. Poseidon smiled warmly at his wife's touch.

"Hello, dear," Poseidon greeted Amphitrite.

Poseidon turned around and gave his shorter wife a proper hug, placing his hand on the back of her dark-haired head. Amphitrite rested her head on his chest.

"You need to stop worrying, Poseidon. Your hair is turning gray," Amphitrite commented.

"I'll excuse myself, milord. I'll meet with you later," Delphin said, before swimming out of the room quickly.

Poseidon rested his chin on the top of Amphitrite's head.

"I'm afraid that not worrying will make my hair even more gray, my dear. Oceanus's army will be big enough for a serious attack in two years and we have absolutely no information on where he is, what he is doing, how big the army is—nothing. It worries me. I cannot lose my kingdom, Amphitrite, I cannot," Poseidon spoke into her dark locks.

She rubbed Poseidon's back soothingly. "We'll figure something out."

They were silent for a moment.

"How's Percy?" Poseidon asked his wife, knowing that she had been watching over him at the camp.

Amphitrite smiled fondly at the mention of her son in everything but blood. She had seen him at the camp, and was proud of her boy. He had already stood up to the two camp bullies—Annabeth and Zane—and defended that man-hating girl that he fell in love with 2,000 years ago. She smiled at the fact that Percy was as loyal as his father (well, now Poseidon is loyal, anyway). Amphitrite remembered watching Percy beat up Heracles on Hephaestus's Iris message show (A/N: Was gonna say Hephaestus TV, but it was before 0 AD), and how her pride swelled when she watched him defend that Hesperid. She also remembered that it was the day that Percy got his first and last kiss. Percy was so stubbornly loyal that he hadn't even looked at another woman besides the lieutenant of the Hunt. Now, even 2,000 years later, Percy was still just as in love with her as he had been the first day—and also the last—he had met her, not even bothered by their separation.

Amphitrite also noticed how much Percy hated concealing himself from her. Yes, Amphitrite knew of Hades's children, and so did Poseidon. Poseidon didn't care for violence upon his brothers, so he didn't want to kill Nico or Bianca, for he didn't fear nor hate them.

"Fine, dear," Amphitrite said, "but I have a dreadful sense of foreboding. I fear something will happen soon."

Poseidon nodded. "My senses have been on the fritz for a while now. I have felt it as well, but I have no idea what this could be."

Amphitrite looked up. "Perhaps a prophecy? Artemis has been captured."

Poseidon perked up at this. "What?" He asked incredulously.