Consciousness came to me in an abrupt start, shaking me from sleep with no warning. I groaned and shifted. Large, careful hands slipped to cradle me. 

"Little one? Are you awake?"

"Dad?" I mumbled, turning my face up to peer at him. A gentle smile beamed down at me. Humming, I closed my eyes. The thrum of his heart soothed away any anxiety I might've had. Not that I had any. It was calm in the palace walls, and it pervaded every perception of the place. Gentle currents swirled outside the walls of his office. 

Dad brushed his fingers against my cheek. "You've slept long enough for now." 

"Doesn't feel like it."

My eyes fluttered open when Dad moved me to sit beside him. A whine slipped out only to cut off once he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Hushed murmurs meant to soothe fell flat against my ears. They were nothing compared to the warm blanket surrounding me. I stared at Dad, waited for him to look at me, and leaned forward to hug him. Soft rumbling echoed from his chest, only for a moment before vanishing. 

"Have you eaten today?" asked Dad. He shifted, probably looking at the untouched box on his desk. "You need to eat something, it's the only way you'll feel any better."

Logically, I knew he was right. I needed to eat. But I wasn't hungry. My stomach didn't grumble, there wasn't a part of my body telling me to eat, and I didn't even feel hungry. Eating wasn't an appealing thought whenever I didn't need to, and sure sometimes I'd forget to eat, but usually I'd be hungry then. There wasn't a reason for me to want to eat, other than to make him happy. Even that didn't seem enough, even though it was before. 

A wrapper crinkled and a granola bar pressed against my lips. I froze, muscles tensed as I looked at Dad. His face was painted with a soft frown, weathered eyes focused on mine. Hesitant, I took a bite. Tension fell from his shoulders, and by the time I'd finished the bar, at one point taking it from him, he'd completely relaxed. The bangles chimed.

I swallowed, unease and anxiety pressing down on me. Triton gave these to me, and I had no idea where they came from. What if I wasn't supposed to have them? What if they were cursed? I would-- Triton had been so nice to me, and really that should've been my first clue. He hates me. He has to hate me, his mom does, and I'm taking attention away from him.  It had to be some sort of plot to get Dad angry so he'd stop caring about me. 

And maybe that was why when Dad reached forward my only reaction was a full-body flinch. He wouldn't hurt me. He wouldn't. I repeated that over and over, hoping that through repetition it became fact. Dad worried at his bottom lip, brow creased. It was the look of someone very much not about to smack your lights out, and yet I couldn't help but make myself smaller in anticipation. 

He blew out a long, soft breath. With a gentle touch better reserved for babies, Dad brushed hair away from my face. "It seems as though Triton has laid his claim on you," he said. I pulled away and stared up at him, head tilted to the side as confusion ran rampant through my brain. Before I opened my mouth to ask, before I could even form a question, he shook his head. "He doesn't give his favor lightly, little one."

I didn't know what that meant. Didn't stop a wave of warmth from rushing through me. If Dad wasn't freaking out about this, wasn't calling Triton and yelling at him, or demanding answers from me, it couldn't be anything too bad. That was assuming it was bad at all. A god's attention wasn't always a negative. For demigods, sure, more often than not a god would want us to do something. But Dad said favor. As much as I'd helped the gods, Dad notwithstanding, I've only ever earned favors. So for me to have Triton's favor, if it meant what I presumed, it was a big deal. 

My fingers wound into the soft material of Dad's shirt. It wasn't a button up or a Hawaiian shirt, simply a navy blue t-shirt. Cotton by the feel of it and very comforting to hold onto. I blinked and settled back against him. I could curl and cuddle against him if I wanted to. It was a tempting thought, one that came with the promise of safety and comfort. Sometimes his aura wrapped even tighter around me, more like a warm hug than a blanket. However, I didn't do it. I could be tempted by calming thoughts all I wanted, I didn't want to act like a baby. 

Demigods couldn't show weakness, and I wasn't an exception to that. Born for battle, we couldn't be anything other than competent. As soon as you get to camp, a weapon is shoved in your hand and you have to learn. In front of gods, there was a fine line to walk for other kids but I was always on one side of it: the side that meant I always had to look stronger.

Demigods shouldn't act like kids, and so I wouldn't.

"Percy," said Dad. He looked down at me and I nearly released his shirt. "Can you do something for me?

Hello and please enjoy this chapter

There is also now a side chapter for this book under...A Hushed Conversation, I think thats what I called it, its the previous chapter but from poseidon's pov

Remember to comment/vote/ drink some water in a fun drinking game

See yah