Percy Jackson and this interpretation of Poseidon were invented by Rick Riordan.
Twenty minutes before walking into Sea of Monsters, I was working on the deepest, darkest Tartarus 'fic I could dredge from the abyss that is my brain, largely because that's the closest thing I know to a painkiller that can be applied directly to self-gouged eye sockets. But then the movie flipped things up by not completely sucking. Seriously, if you can get over the fact that everyone looks thirty, it's actually pretty watchable. They're not even trying to be true to the book, though. They make a lot of changes, but the story they're telling is relatively good and has a few killer moments. So I ended up writing this thing instead.
Also, Nathan Fillion as Hermes was everything I could have hoped and more.
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Percy made it to the shore halfway between a jog and a run. Chiron had said that his dad wanted to see him, and you did not make the god of the oceans wait. Whatever it was, it sounded serious.
At least it was only the beach and not the throne room. Sometimes Percy wished that someone would write a book on the etiquette of dealing with Olympus. What to say, when to bow, when to act like everything was normal (which it never was). Then he hoped that someone would turn it into Cliff's Notes and covert them to an .mp3. He would absolutely mostly pay attention to that.
"Dad?" he asked.
Poseidon turned around. He was wearing an early fall version of his usual Beachcomber getup, fishing pole in hand.
"I need to talk to you about something. Ordinarily, I'd have Chiron do it, but..." one of his eyebrows twitched. "But..."
But I'm his favorite. He would never repeat it out loud—what if Tyson heard?—but deep down in his most okay-to-be-selfish space, Percy loved that his dad liked him best. Besides, Tyson had gotten to live at their dad's house for months. He was just being fair.
Poseidon shook his head. "Never mind. We're going to be here for a minute, so why don't you pick that up?" he pointed to the second pole that had suddenly appeared on the sand.
Be cool, Percy. Be cool, he told himself. Fishing. Two guys fishing. He was finally getting to do something normal with his dad. People did this all the time. He slashed open his thumb as he tried to bait the hook, but it knit in about five seconds. Be cool! He said a silent prayer that he wouldn't accidentally snag himself in the head and look like an idiot as he cast the line out into Long Island Sound.
...which was a bit countereffective considering which god he usually prayed to.
"You're welcome," said Poseidon.
"Uh, thanks," Percy muttered, fighting down a blush.
Poseidon cast his own line, a million times more graceful. "Now I haven't had to do this since the twenties, and a couple of things have changed since then, so bear with me."
"Sure, Dad," Percy answered, trying not to thank the nearest god that he didn't sound as nervous as he felt.
Poseidon took a breath and spoke in a measured pace, as if he'd practiced what to say. "Pretty soon, you're going to face some decisions that can affect the rest of your life, and you might not realize it until it's too late to change them."
Percy nodded. Was this about the prophecy? Had he done something wrong?
"The men in our family are unusually..." Poseidon paused, "powerful, so you have to be more careful than a mortal would, or even another demigod."
"Uh huh."
"Your mother and I were actually very careful, and—well—here you are."
"Uh ...huh?" Percy lowered his fishing pole. "Wait a second, what are we talking about?"
Poseidon looked at him sternly. "You're a maturing young man and you need to know these things."
Percy's mouth gaped open. Somewhere inside him, the words "But I do!" had gone AWOL.
In fact, Percy had attended one fairly liberal high school, three different middle schools, and four elementary schools after fourth grade. That and the fact that not everyone had the same health schedule meant that he'd gone through some form of sex ed seven and a half times including but not limited to three toned-down-for-kids versions, the military school version, the abstinence-only version, the hippie version, the Sunshine-Educational-direct-to-VHS-from-the-nineti es version, and Paul trying to give him a man-to-man talk after school. He'd accidentally murdered three "baby" eggs and had another one assassinated by Nancy Bobofit. And out of all of that, he realized as Poseidon got started, Nothing. Had. Been. This. Bad.
"Even if it's her first time," Poseidon rattled off. "Even if it's your first time. Even if you've been wearing constricting clothes. Even if she's on her period. Even if you've been bitten by a hellhound in the past six months..."
"Uh huh," Percy said helplessly.
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"When they came out with that pill in the sixties, Zeus thought the whole party was back on. He considered deifying the whole research team. But it's medicine, not magic. Even something as simple as antibiotics can render some prescriptions inactive. Also, just because a woman says she's on birth control doesn't mean she remembers to take it at the same time every day. Come to think of it," Poseidon rubbed his beard, "I'm relatively sure that's how I got Tyson."
Percy was relatively sure he hadn't made that noise since Circe had threatened him with alfalfa and a hamster wheel. In fact, being shipped off to kindergarteners in a wire cage was sounding pretty good right about now.
"I don't know how much of it you've seen and I don't want to know, but you can't trust anything you learn from pornography. Half of it is extremely misogynistic and the other half happened when Eros lost a bet to Hephaestus and Ares over whether batteries or an internal combustion engine would be better for—you know you probably don't need to know the exact details."
"Uh huh."
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"Being intimate doesn't always have to mean the full act itself. Most women will agree to be with you more often if they know it doesn't always mean going all the way. There are lots of things you can do with a partner that don't cause pregnancy, but that doesn't always mean you can't catch anything."
"Uh huh."
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"...and if it was inside out, throw it away and start over with a new one. Practice on a banana if you have to. You'll feel less silly than if that strip turns blue; trust me."
"Uh hurrrr..."
"Oh no." Poseidon muttered. He waved his hand in front of Percy's face. "Stay with me," he said, two fingers pointing toward his eyes in the "focus" gesture.
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"Being a demigod, you're going to find that you have more options for partners than just human women, and they don't always have the same expectations. The smart thing to do is usually to talk things out while everyone's clothes are still on. If anyone with more than two rows of teeth says that she's no good at certain things, it's best to take her at her word."
"Uh huh."
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Not that you don't have a lot to offer, but there are some women who'll be interested in you because you're from a rare lineage. It's going to be hard to listen to your gut when other things are talking, but that's what you've got to do. If it feels like a four-armed tree spirit is only flirting with you because she wants to grind up your organs for potion components, she probably is."
"Uh huh."
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"Try to pay attention. This last one is important." Poseidon's eyes fixed on the horizon. "If you're ever in a long-term relationship and you... " he shifted his grip on the fishing pole. "No two people are the same, and the concept of marriage has changed a lot over the years, but remember that it's always hard for your partner if you've gone to someone else. If you know that you're not cut out to be a one-woman man, then you might want to do what Apollo and Hermes did. You live in a time and place where not every man has to get married." He looked at him with a slightly softer eye. "Annabeth is a nice girl," he said. "Sometimes these things last and sometimes they don't, but that wouldn't erase any of the things you've learned from each other or the ways you've become stronger people. I know her mother doesn't approve, but I think you're off to a good start."
Percy closed his eyes, as if coming out of a trance. A nerve-racking, soul-reaping trance.
"Do you think you can remember all that?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"Good luck, son. My brother is being ...himself. We might not get to talk again for a while."
"Uh," Percy said, still pretty dazed, "okay." He shook himself. "No, I mean thanks. Thank you."
"Bite."
"Huh?"
"You've got a bite," Poseidon pointed out into the water.
"Oh! I—" Percy turned toward the trembling line.
Poseidon put one hand on the grip. "Careful. Don't yank too hard," he told him. Eyes on the water, Percy nodded. "You never learned to fish?" his father asked, either amused or amazed.
"Not really," he admitted. Boats, coordinates and killing monsters came to him naturally, but not this.
"Hold it steady," he whispered.
For a second it was just the two of them standing halfway into the breakers, focused on the struggling life on the other end of the line. Eventually Percy pulled in a gape-mouthed young bluefish half the length of his forearm, with dark spines and shining gray scales.
Percy looked up, a bit embarrassed that he had to ask what to do next. Throw it back? Skin it?
He wasn't even surprised when there was no one there.
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