➜Ichor originates from Greek mythology, where it is the "ethereal fluid" that is the blood of the Greek gods, sometimes said to retain the qualities of the food and drink of the immortals, ambrosia, and nectar. Ichor is described as toxic to humans...
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• they speak is true •
【chapter three: daughter of poseidon 】
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Dusk was approaching, the sky was darkening at a rapid rate, it was as if the God of the Sun, the Golden realized that there was something wrong, as he rushed his chariot back to Olympus. The atmosphere around him was stilted as if waiting with bated breath for something. A slave ran around as he lit the lamps in the dark tent to provide light.
Achilles sighed, his eyes straying to the section of his tent, where the woman was resting. Presumably asleep. Both he and Patroclus tried to get the armour of the woman that clung to her like a second skin. After a moment they gave up, and decided to treat the skin that was exposed. Much to their surprise, there was not a single injury under the layer of grime and blood, except some small scrapes and bumps that would heal without a mark.
The appearance of the unknown woman had caused a ripple of uncertainty and confusion to go around the Camp. Agamemnon demanded him to appear in front of him and answer as to who this woman was. But Achilles still reeling from the humiliation that he suffered today brutally rejected his demand.
His eyes narrowed as he sensed a very familiar presence, the light smell of salty sea permeated the air, and an aura of motherly and warm but also oppressive and commanding enveloped him. Achilles senses his mother before she has even made her physical form known. He slowly turned to his side, where he spotted his mother's tall form and bowed his head out of respect for the nymph who had borne him.
He along with the whole of Greece knew that he was not a child his mother desired to have, but was forced onto her by his father Peleus and the Gods of Olympus. Her maidenhood, her freedom that was snatched from her. For it doesn't matter that she was a nymph with ichor flowing in her veins instead of the dirtied blood of mortals, in the end, she was still a woman, born without a cock. Her life wasn't hers was never hers, it was in the hands of the Gods and then his father.
The defilement of Thetis was known throughout the realm. A warning for women who avoided the wishes of the men in their lives. Thetis was given to his father Peleus as a gift, a thing to be claimed. He was born not out of love but out of lust that his father carried. The lust for greatness, the lust of defiling a nymph of the ocean with blood purer than her, the lust of having a powerful heir destined for greatness as proclaimed by the King of Gods.
His mother loved him and yet loathed him. He was born out of the forced intimacy forced on his mother by his father, she hated him for that. Yet, she loved him. For a mother can never hate her child no matter their origin.
"Rise son," His mother said, her voice distorted and faint, it escaped her mouth in a hiss just like a snake. That does not deter Achilles for he could spot, the underlying fondness in her tone.
He looked up, his mother looked... warier than before. Her eyes were pale, the colour of the sea foam, her hair like the sand on the beach floated in the air as they would have if they were in water, her skin was paler than her usually sickly tone, it appeared grey, her form was still long towering over Achilles form, and graceful.
Inhuman. Otherworldy, something beyond the thoughts of mortals.
"The woman..." His mother began her voice measured. "do you know who she is?"
Achilles' brow drew in confusion, "No, I don't."
Thetis' bloodless lips pulled into a mockery of a smile. "And despite that, you hold a woman in your own personal shelter." She said with a scoff. "Her virtue would be questioned by others-"
"They wouldn't." Achilles cut off with a small smile.
Everyone here knows that Achilles is too soft, too noble to take advantage of an unwilling woman, much less one who is in such a vulnerable state.
His mother also understood this as she laughed a scratchy and dry sound. "You are too noble, too loyal, and too temperamental. Just like a being of the sea." She said fondly as her hand -cold and clammy- came and rested on his cheek. "Achilles my son, protect the girl at all costs. If even a hair is harmed on her head, I fear that the repercussions wouldn't be pretty." She whispers lowly, her voice wary and heavy.
"Who is she, mother?" Achilles asks the question that weighs heavily in his mind.
"The power of the sea flows in her veins," Thetis said, confirming Achilles' previous thoughts. "She is the daughter of the Earthshaker and Strombringer."
━━━━━✧༺✶༻✧ ━━━━━
She remembers her last moments clearly, her last thoughts were towards Peter, the boy whom she had come to love as her own son, they were towards, Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy, all those who stood beside her, and specifically, her thought were on her sweet son, her little miracle. Her little sunshine, her Elio, Elio Howard Stark.
She remembers getting the news of being pregnant after a one-night stand, just months after what was called the Infinity War. She remembers nothing of the father of her son. She only remembers his hands, warm and large, as they steadied her throughout the night.
She remembers being horrified and guilty when she learned of her pregnancy, of the potential risks to her and her child due to her already fragile condition. She remembers the sleepless nights as she cried in Pepper's arms, hoping the baby to be safe. She remembers the heart-wrenching terror she felt, as she went into her labour early.
She remembers the warmth and love that she felt when she held her son for the first time in her life. Her little Elio looked like her exact copy.
She remembers her heart hurting at the thought of leaving him. But it was necessary, it was Fate. She wanted to create a world where her son would live without the fear of being killed. A world in which his own godfather wouldn't try to betray him, a world where his parents wouldn't grow cold to him as he would grow into a young woman. A world which would not rip his chest open, a world where his friend, his trusted companion would not stomp on his broken heart.
She did it for Elio. Her little miracle.
She remembers the determination burning in her veins which overshadowed her fear as she locked her eyes with Stephen Strange's before she snapped her fingers.
Toni Stark awoke with a heartwrenching gasp in an unknown place -not for the first time- in her armour, alive with a phantom pain in her chest and a burning pain in her right side.
━━━━━✧༺✶༻✧ ━━━━━
Thetis was frozen in a bow, as she watched as slender fingers danced around a beautiful white blossom, her non-existent heart was hammering in her throat as she watched the God hum a tone, which was hauntingly beautiful.
Any small movement that she displayed froze as golden eyes turned to her. "Tell me, Nymph, what the birds sing about, is it true?" He asked in a soft melodious tone.
"Yes, my lord, what they speak of is true." Thetis took a deep breath. "The girl is the daughter of Poseidon."
"A daughter of Poseidon," Lord Apollo spoke in fascination as he plucked the flower and held it towards his nose. Thetis trembled as a grin wormed its way on his face. "Interesting."
