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“Ladies and gentlemen, the auction will start in ten minutes. Please take your seats.”
The being at the front of the cavern says, his voice magically amplified so that everyone inside hears and no one else. His skin is greek like merfolk, but Percy can easily tell that he’s got enough strength to rival a minor god. A very minor god. Percy has gotten good at determining Greek being’s power levels relative to his own.
He’s gotten good at a lot of things over the years.
A waitress - an actual merfolk, the sea’s version of mortals - swims by with drinks. Alcohol: champagne, merlot, and a few others that Percy doesn’t remember the names to. He doesn’t want any, but if he wants to blend in then he has to play the part. The magic that hides that he’s a demigod instead of a minor god only does half the work. He takes a glass off the tray and doesn’t thank the waitress and doesn’t acknowledge her in any way. It goes against his morals (Percy was raised in the working class after all) but in this place, not acknowledging her is the safest option for both of them.
Glass in hand, Percy studies the seating layout to determine the optimal place. Not too close; he doesn’t want too many evil bastards at his back, observing him. Not too far back, he won’t be able to see the stage well enough. Close to an exit, but not obviously so-
A hand on his back startles him. It’s right over where his mortal spot used to be, and Percy has to suppress the urge to rip the arm off and follow up with a fatal stab with Riptide. Percy turns to the bastard. Slightly taller than him, fake merfolk-green skin, brown eyes, looks about fifty or so, but that’s a lie because the guy is clearly a significantly powerful god, as powerful as-
Oh. There are a handful of gods that are that powerful. Percy has met most of them, and knows enough of the rest to recognize them on sight. The scathing remark on the edge of his tongue dies, and Percy relaxes.
“Dad.”
“What are you doing here.” Poseidon sounds pissed. His stare is a physical thing, attempting to bore holes into the side of Percy’s head and reveal his thoughts, plans, everything. Years ago, when he didn’t really have a relationship with his dad he would’ve called it intense and overwhelming. Now though… Well, it’s still intense but Percy is well acclimated to it.
“What are you doing here?” Percy counters, keeping his voice steady, relaxed and quiet. He continues surveying the room. Idly Percy raises the glass to his lips to take a sip but Poseidon’s hand stops him. Percy glares, just a little.
“You are underaged and in- just. Do not drink anything. You and Tyson had plans. You didn’t show. I went looking, and I find you at a black market for live goods with my enemies in Oceanus’s territory?” The words are angrily hissed under Poseidon’s breath, carefully hidden from the beings around them.
Which - Huh. That is a good question. “How are you here? Don’t you have to give up a significant amount of your power to enter into another god’s domain without permission?”
Poseidon doesn’t reply. Percy turns to look at him, and realizes that Poseidon did exactly that. Probably saw that Percy was in Oceanus’ territory, panicked and came immediately. Internally, he swears. “You should not have done that.”
It’s a testament to their relationship that Percy can get away with that - chiding one of the three most powerful Greek gods like they are equals - while he’s angry, nonetheless. He’s done it before and he’ll do it again. His dad values his input, it’s one of the reasons why Percy has an open invitation to officially become one of his advisors. He’s earned it with his experience in battle, knack of tactical strategy in the heat of battle and being the favourite son.
“No.” Poseidon agrees. “We’re leaving now, before it becomes an issue.”
Poseidon tries to steer him to the exit, but Percy smoothly steps out of his reach and strides towards a decent spot, about three fourths of the way down the cavern. He pulls out a chair beside him, and a moment later Poseidon sits down, barely hiding his anger.
“Percy-”
“It’s actually Atticus now.” Percy says, feeling a little cheeky. But he knows the anger is built on protectiveness of him, and fear that Oceanus will notice them. Poseidon hadn’t been able to match Oceanus’s strength at full power and now - well, he wouldn’t stand a chance. His dad is risking a lot for him right now, and that moves Percy into telling him the truth, despite the fact that he’s crashing Percy’s mission.
“I made a promise that I would save someone in my last quest during the Second Giant War. I’ve been trying to locate them for five years. This is the best lead I’ve gotten.” Percy steals a glance sideways, and feels a little amused. “You didn’t think that I came here to actually buy people-”
“No, of course not.” Poseidon says, maybe a little too quickly. And then slower, more reluctantly- “I thought someone had grabbed you, and brought you here.” To be sold, goes unsaid but heard nonetheless.
Suddenly, Percy feels bad about his earlier teasing. Fuck - if it was him in Poseidon’s place, and Tyson or Estelle in his, he would’ve been in a far worse state. He puts a hand on Poseidon’s wrist where it rests on his leg, behind the table and squeezes reassuringly. Displays of physical affection - of the innocent variety - would look strange at best, suspicious at worst in a place like this. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I would’ve given you a heads up, but I got the tip last minute and I needed to move.”
His dad turns his hand over and wraps four fingers around the side of Percy’s hand, thumb in between Percy’s thumb and index - holding his hand like he’s a child. In public. Wonderful. At least it’s semi hidden.
“A head’s up - we will talk about this later.” Poseidon promises, and internally Percy groans. When Poseidon promised to take a more active role in his life five years ago after Hera’s kidnapping, Percy had not been aware of how many lectures that would entail. “What’s the plan?”
“I’d like to save everyone, but considering who’s territory were in and how many gods are here, I can’t. The person I’m looking for should be number twenty one on the list. A merwoman from Seaworld, drugged to the gills. I brought enough money that I should be able to outbid anyone else, as long as I don’t split it. I’m going to keep a track of who gets who, place the trackers I got from Hermes on the cages, and hand that over to Marina to track down and coordinate rescues. Although…” Percy tells him telepathically, and then swallows as he considers a sick thought that has been plaguing the edge of his mind.
“Although?”
“If… if there’s a kid. Here. I’d get them out - either by bidding or going backstage and breaking them out if I have to. Even if that meant that I’d have to wait longer to rescue the person I’ve been looking for.”
Poseidon squeezes his hand gently. “It’s possible.”
Percy swears, and stares at the table suppressing the urge to get emotional. Everytime he thinks he’s found the worse the world has to offer, he finds out there’s something even more horrifying.
Poseidon rubs the back of his hand, and Percy takes a breath. “Okay. I know it’s far from ideal and it’s not the best of plans but-”
“It’s decent, considering the limited time and information you had to prepare.” Poseidon says. “It’s alright. I’ll help you.”
The End.