In My Arms (You Fade Away)

I can count on one hand the number of times I have held you, my son. I have cherished them all, cherished them fiercer than my love for any worldly possession or power. The life of a demigod is hard, a lesson I know you learned early on. But the life of a god is just as so, whether you believe me or not. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust: lovers, companions, children all waste away and decay while I live on. Many I have held, none still remain. Millenniums I have reigned, and millenniums still I will see. Fear not, though, dear child, you I shall always carry with me.

The first time I held you, you were new to this world. An infant, swaddled up in blue, peacefully sleeping in your cradle. The sheets upon which you laid were adorned with brightly colored fish and great swollen whales. The crib mobile above your head swayed lightly to the late summer's breeze, starfish and dolphins bidding you sweet dreams. I smiled. Your mother always did have an eye for detail.

I picked you up; you did not cry. You were so soft and so small, cradled against my chest. You snuggled against me, cooing softly as you awoke. A wisp of black hair swirled atop your head, soft and pleasant as it brushed against my chin. Your eyes were mirrors of my own, green as the stormy sea that was as much a part of me as it now was of you. You blinked your large eyes up at me, so bright and innocent as I held you tight. Even then, the ocean sang within you, a bright and powerful song that struck fear and gladness in my heart.

I could not linger. Your uncles, as paranoid as they are strong, would not hesitate to take you from me, from this world, if they had caught me with you. I laid you back down on the ocean sheets, tucking you in all warm and safe. Still you made no sound. You watched me as I left, dissolving before your unsuspecting and innocent eyes.

You grew much too quickly, from infant to toddler to an inquisitive and impish child. Too quick you grew, too little I watched. Twelve years passed, twelve years I was absent, twelve years and the Minotaur found you. I am ashamed to admit, I did not see you. I feared watching you, I feared you. My brothers' wrath would be great, but even greater was the fear of my own attachment. I do not love softly, son of mine, nor in halves. My love is all powerful and consuming, it has burned me more than once. But the moment you knelt before me, with the lightning bolt on your back and the weight of the world on your shoulders, I did not stand a chance. You were my son, a child of the sea, and I loved you as fiercely and proudly as any true father would.

I did not hold you again until the world thought you lost. I feared you would stay with the imprisoned daughter of Atlas, in peace and in love, away from me. I am a selfish father; I would trade even your happiness to have you here beside me. But the fear never came to fruition and you returned to Chiron's shores.

When I showed up at your door, against Zeus' orders and the ancient laws, your surprise made all the danger worth it. I came under the pretense of knowledge, to hear of my father's rise directly from the source, but in truth I wanted to see you. Real, warm, in the flesh and blood of the mortal body that held you in this plane. I was glad; I had not lost you. I clasped you on your capable shoulders and reminded you of my favor.

Perhaps held is not the true word for what I did. Mortals have different ideas of what constitutes physical affection. But I felt you under my fingertips, real and alive and in my grasp.

The Battle for Olympus came. Kronus' forces were beyond our wildest nightmares, a chasm of Tartarus opened up and spilling onto Olympus itself along with all our darkest fears and secrets. Yet you stood tall, my son, and you beat them all. Through fire and grief, loss and pain, when the battle was over and the last sword fell, you waited for us when we came through Olympus' hall.

I could not resist holding you then. You were alive, you had won, the son of Poseidon standing victorious over all. I think I surprised you, yet again, when I took you in my arms once more. You were tired, sad and worn. The war took its toll on you, my son, and it showed in every line of your being. You leaned against me, if just for a moment, and I held you close. There is so much I could have said, so much you needed to hear, yet I could not say it all. There are not enough words in all the tongues of the world to express what you mean to me, child of mine.

When you turned down immortality I wanted to shake you until your teeth rattled and your sense returned. I was so close, so close to keeping you forever. The thought of you, immortal and all powerful by my side, is a strong one. I wanted, and still long for it fiercely. But you are as wild and untamable as the sea and nothing in all the world could change your mind, not even I.

You are like a pearl of sea, son of mine. Beautiful, powerful, wanted and sought by all; hated by those who long for all that you possess. You are the greatest Hero of your time. The greatest Hero of all times. Greater than Theseus, than Achilles, than the Perseus of Old. You stand higher even than Hercules himself. You vanquish foes no other demigod touched, consort with figures of the highest legends, and time and time again you come out on top.

Your strengths lies not in your power, though it is strong, but rather in your heart. This, above all else, is why you succeed where no other has before. Your friends would, and indeed have, followed you to the ends of the earth. Your enemies, though they strive to knock you down, respect and fear all that you are.

You are my son. A true child of the sea. A creature of power and serenity, a wild untamable thing that cannot be tampered. A bright light, burning brighter then Apollo's sun and Artemis' stars and all that is luminous in this world. But the light that burns the brightest, extinguishes the quickest.

I cried when you fell to your knees. I despaired as your blood spilled forth from your body and colored the earth beneath your groping fingers. You are cold and still beneath my fingers as I wrap my arms around you. I hold you now, red and white in the protective circle of my arms.

Do not fear my child, your father is here.

Open your eyes, my son, do you not hear me call your name?

But you do not open your eyes. You do not answer my call. Oh! What I would not give to see your eyes open, sparkling with hope, to hear you laugh so full of warmth. To see you smile, so full of love. Open your eyes, dear child, laugh and smile for your father. I am here, I will not leave you. You cannot leave me.

The breath has left your body, you have long since turned cold. Yet I still hold you, I cannot let go.

I can count on my hand the number of times I have held you, my son. Too few, too short, yet I cherish each one. Except now, except here. I would give anything, do anything, trade even my throne, if only you would breath once more. If only to keep you here with me.

Sweet dream my child, your father holds you near.

A/n Here's a short little oneshot that I wrote instead of doing my homework. I wanted to try out a new point of view; I think it turned out nicely. This is a bit less fluffy then the stuff I usually write. I would love to hear your thoughts on it :D I hope you enjoyed ~ *