Chapter Text
There was no denying the fountain was a masterpiece. The smooth marble gleamed in Phoebus' sun, abalone shell and mother of pearl decorating the tiers as salt water sprung from the depths. Poseidon looked upon his creation with pride, ready to accept the city and its patronage. He turned from the fountain, wishing to see what Athena had created in this challenge.
A tree.
She had given them a tree.
Laughter bubbled in his chest, for his victory was all but guaranteed. Clearly she did not truly desire for patronage over the city; a few twigs were nothing compared to his fountain, a gift that would keep giving for as long as the city had need.
Victory tasted oh so sweet.
***
They chose the tree.
A storm began to take form within his very being, crashing at his walls to be unleashed, to destroy this city, Athens, tearing it down to nothing but rubble and dust. Athena looked at him with a smug countenance, her grey eyes victorious and full of spite.
The Athenians had the gall to turn their back on him as they reached to taste the fruits borne by the tree, children running amongst the shaded ground to escape the heat of the sun above. Rage clawed up his throat at the clear dismissal from the mortals.
Athens would fall, and the Earth Shaker would take great delight in its destruction.
As he turned from the celebrating hoard, to return to the sea, a movement from his fountain caught his eye. Faint ripples disturbed the otherwise peaceful surface, for he had already cut off the running water when Athena was announced victor.
Bubbles began to join the ripples as they increased in rhythm.
Athena's ever keen eyes also alighted on the movement from the fountain. Her own gaze seemed to steel over as she looked between the bubbling fountain and the God of the Sea.
“You swore you would not take your loss out on the people of this city!”
His knuckles tightened around his trident, his eyes never leaving the fountain. “This is not my doing, niece.”
Before she could comment on the clear avoidance of the fact he would be doing something, a golden light shone bright from the centre of the fountain.
The people of Athens, who had finally noticed the confrontation between the two gods, and subsequently the bubbling fountain, drew back in fear, some taking refuge behind the olive tree.
A figure began to take shape within the golden light. Long rivers of Nyx black hair fell down lithe shoulders in waves. Sun-kissed skin shone in the light, much like how the marble fountain shone beneath the sun only minutes earlier. Water clung to her, forming a beautiful himation, fastened at her left shoulder with pearls and shells. Gradually the light faded, and the mysterious woman was left standing in the centre of the fountain.
No one dared to move as the goddess, for what else could such beauty possibly be? stood before them.
Slowly, her eyes opened, revealing sea green eyes mirroring the god of the sea’s own preferred appearance, framed by thick dark lashes.
Athena seethed. “What is this Poseidon? The competition is over. I have won.”
Poseidon ignored the irate goddess behind him, entranced by his daughter, lovingly embraced by his waters. He could feel the ocean within her, likewise their bond through shared ichor. It was as true as the sky was blue and the ocean was vast, this was his daughter.
His daughter looked at him, her gaze unnerving even to him. She was perfect.
“My daughter was not part of this competition, niece.”
He paid no mind to the mutterings amongst the crowd, instead taking careful steps towards the fountain until his feet brushed the edge. With one hand, he offered his palm to his daughter. Gently, she placed her own hand in his and stepped out of the water, leaving the fountain behind.
She stood before Athens, the image of grace. With the golden light vanished, a strand of her hair was revealed to be a differing colour from the rest. A line of white, the colour of sea foam and starlight, streaked her otherwise ink black hair, only adding to her ethereal appearance.
Before her, the people of Athens bowed low, leaving behind the olive tree and their homes to honour the new Goddess. Fury licked at Athena's throat as her city turned from her to worship another, a spawn of the sea no less.
Poseidon turned to his daughter, one hand cupping her cheek, marveling at her beauty. “What do I call you, child?”
She looked at her father, and in a voice that would be sung about by the muses for millennia for its melodic sound, like waves upon a shore, told her father,
“I am Perseleia Athenide, my Lord.”
***
And thus, the city of Athens was won not by the Earth-shaker, nor by the Owl-eyed one but instead by a new Goddess, born from her fathers fountain at the heart of the city. She would go on to collect many names and titles, but she would always be known by her first.
The Athenide.