I wrote this for a number of reasons. (1) Everyone pushes Amphitrite to the side when Sally Jackson is in the picture. (2)I don't care how "in love" any man is with his mistress—that gives him NO RIGHT TO CHEAT ON HIS WIFE. (3) I like angst.

Enjoy!

He Smiles At You

Amphitrite's POV Written in Second Person

Poseidon walks with his arrogance into the throne room, a childish grin of mischief on his timeless face.

He smiles at you.

You don't return the gesture. After all, you are only a tool to him. It's true no matter how much you try to deny it. And by denying the truth you have committed the worst crime.

You are a nymph—your only purpose is to produce children to fill the world. The Fates never spared enough thought about how that might actually affect not only you, but the men you involuntarily hypnotize. Your husband, Poseidon, has just returned from another "leave of absence". Oh, the fool! As if the entire court did not already know how he chose to spend that time away! You had thought that the decree of conceiving bastard children would have kept him home and his eye away from seductive mortals, but over 2,000 years of marriage have taught you to not trust the sea.

It does not surprise you that your unfaithful husband has gone back to his old habits. In fact, deep within your heart you had expected it. So, why has his most recent mistress, one by the name of Sally Jackson, broken your heart so painfully?

You hardly look up when he opens the door to your chambers later in the evening. You know the routine. You don't make a sound as you gently begin to undress, he likewise. You remain silent through the whole ordeal as you always do. When it's all over, and the sea god ceases to murmur your name in exchange for the beautiful blessings of sleep, you allow the tears to fall.

But even in your weeping misery you are silent.

He does not love you. You have known this since the moment he played that horrible trick on you. No one would steal you away from your home and everything you have ever known for the sake of love. No, he only lusted for your body like an animal. He saw no harm in doing so; after all, you are a nymph—that's your purpose.

You dare not admit it, not even to yourself, but you love him. You love him so fiercely, unlike anything you have experienced before. You longed for his attention, burned with misery at his constant deceit, and through it all you remain silent.

You were once naïve. You did not suspect; oh no, it was years before you even began to believe your beloved husband was capable of such treachery, and centuries longer before you were forced to accept the truth. It troubled your mind and heart for decades. Why would he go through the trouble and drama to get you only to stray from the coveted wedding bed?

You found out the answer the day you saw Sally Jackson. She was incredibly stunning for a mortal. Her features were a natural beauty, possibly blessed by Aphrodite because her parents were one of the few couples who loved each other unconditionally. There was also something about her that drew people to her—perhaps it was her immense kindness, her thoughtfulness or maybe even her strength.

No, you cannot bring yourself to hate a woman as gentle and loving as she. But you want to hate her. In hatred, you don't notice the pain. But, even in this simple task you fail. When you discovered that Sally Jackson was getting married to a man by the name of Paul Blowfis, you felt almost relieved for her. At last, she has found happiness!

You wish to hate Percy Jackson, the boy conceived from the sin of his parents, but you cannot. The boy is much too innocent and filled with brimming goodness, as his mother, that your heart melts at the sight of all he stands for and has accomplished. You wish to hate him for your husband prefers that bastard over Triton, but you cannot. After all, it is not Percy's fault for being the favorite….

It's Poseidon's. Yes, you think to yourself as you watch him sleep, he is the reason. He is the one who has strayed from the wedding bed, breaking covenants and promises with every breath he drew. But you cannot hate him. After all these years of confusion and longing, of pain and suffering, of happiness and anger you cannot hate him.

You are so lost in thought that you do not notice he is stirring to consciousness until his eyes meet yours.

He smiles at you.

You do not return the gesture. After all, you are only a tool to him. It's true no matter how much you try to deny it. And by denying the truth you have committed the worst crime.