Chapter Text
A squealed giggle sounded out, a satisfied huff followed. Triton looks up to the sky, the sun shines bright over him. He cannot remember why he’s here, but for some reason he is. He stands on the edge of water and tries to blink the blinding white light from his eyes. Another giggle sounds out and he looks away from the waves towards the sound. A blob of blue, green, and black bolts towards him. He blinks again and his vision clears, a young girl comes running down the edge of water. Her feet and legs kick up the water as waves crash against the shore. When the tide comes in again the girl giggles once more. The girl stops as the tide recedes, when it surges forward she jumps and splashes into the wet sand. The child looks up at him and her smile widens, she resumes her journey towards him.
(Triton smiles, he laughs, “Ready yourself my daughter, won’t you?”
Pallas finally snaps to attention, she looks at him with a smile. A young Athena, the one he’d thought of as his own, guffaws at Pallas’ expense, Triton looks towards the girl and gives her a stern look. Athena looks back with an amused glint in her eyes, a small smile curving the edge of her lips, she shallowly dips her head in acknowledgment. Triton shakes his head, as a smile grows on his face.
“Yes, Father,” Pallas replies, her sea eyes bore into his own (she looks so much like her mother). Pallas raises her spear and smirks, she gives young Athena a sly look as she sinks into position.
He couldn’t be more proud of the warrior she was becoming.)
His daughter, so much younger than the last time he laid eyes on her youthful face, stops before him. She stares up at him with such trusting eyes (her eyes were so green, he had almost forgotten what they looked like). A smile spreads across her cubby face, her cheeks red, flushed with heat, glow in sickly orange the sun. Her hair, wet from the water, curls as it dries in the humid air.
“Look!”
In her hands a pinna lays open, its inner flesh pulled apart to show the pearl laying inside of it. Triton kneels down to her height and pears at the pearl within. Pallas shoves her hands closer to him, when he glances at her face she gives him an encouraging nod. He picks up the pearl and holds it up to the sun.
“Mama showed me where to get them. We have to go deep. I like seeing their different colors.”
(The pearl’s amber color burns an almost blood red in the sun.)
(He cradles his daughter in his lap. Her bronze skin now ashy in color, spear sticking straight out of her chest. Her breaths gurgle, her blood spreads further on her clothing, its gauzy white now painted a deep red. Her eyes, her sea-colored eyes, slowly blink up at him.
He can hear someone begging in the distance.
(“No, no, my daughter, my daughter, my daughter, my daughter, my— ”)
He doesn’t realize until much later that it was him.)
“It’s beautiful my dear.” Pallas' smile grows even larger than before, her eyes gleam in the sun, Triton’s heart flutters, his breath catches, his eyes grow heavy with unshed tears. He knows this is just a dream. His daughter is dead.
(He didn’t realize just how precious she was until he lost her.)
“It’s for you.” A gift.
Triton rolls the amber pearl to sit in his palm. He closes his hand into a fist and squeezes the pearl.
(He doesn’t want to wake up yet. He needs more time. He wants more time with his daughter.)
He looks his daughter in the eye and smiles back, a bitter taste coats his tongue and races down his throat, he knows she can’t tell something is wrong with him, yet he still worries, “I shall treasure it.”
(Far more than either of them could have ever imagined.)
When Triton looks beyond his daughter he can see Glauce in the distance. A small smile rests of her face as she watches the both of them. Her green eyes look so soft, cheerful. Her eyes crinkle at the corners from her soft-lipped smile.
(The last time he saw her in person her eyes were red and her face was swollen from crying. She looked at him with such anger, a festering hate and sorrow so deep he felt like he was burning.
Tears welled in her eyes, her voice wavered as she spoke, “She’s dead because of you,” she turned away from him, and let out a wet breath, “We’re done.”
(If this is what agony felt like, he didn’t think he would be able to recover. If this was grief—grieving—he never wanted to have another child again.)
He watched Glauce walk away with a lump in his throat.
He wanted to call out for her.
He didn’t.
It was the last time he saw her before she died decades later.
She never had another child.)
A memory of a time when things were so different, so much brighter.
(He doesn’t want to wake up and remember.)
“You’ll have to show me soon.”
Her smile impossibly widens further, she bounces on the tips of her toes and leans in further towards him, “Really?!”
“Of course.”
She replies with an excited shriek and drops the pinna in her hands. Pallas flings her arms around Triton’s neck and squeezes. Triton brings her close and holds her back. He breaths her sea-salt scent in. He tightens his grip.
(He wants more time.)
Glauce laughs as she walks closer, she holds a basket with more pinna within. She stops just behind Pallas and places a hand on her shoulder, “Come my sea glass, there are issues Lord Triton must tend to.”
When Pallas bounces away, Triton feels dread rear up in his gut. His smile flatters. Triton presses a kiss to his daughter’s brow before letting go.
She looks back at him and waves. Triton raises his hand in turn.
As they grow smaller in his sight Triton sighs.
(The fire crackles and through the smoke and haze he can see Glauce. She cannot stand on her own, two of her sisters stand at her sides holding her upper body up by her arms. Glauce kneels on the ground with her head bowed and weeps.
When he tries to focus back on the burning body of his daughter all he can see is the melting of her golden helmet. The image of the melting conch shell sears itself into his brain.
Every time he closes his eyes he can see it.)
(He just wants time.
Time that stopped existing centuries ago.)