Arion: the only divine race horse gifted with speech. Born of gods, swift and beyond compare, his only reins were Demeter's voice and she ordered him to take them back home. His black mane flew as he thundered across the earth with Demeter and Hestia on his back.
In the span of a breath, they neared Mount Olympus but even Arion's speed couldn't outrun the knot in Demeter's stomach, her regret curling inside like a rotten vine. Pythia was gone because of her. She should have never asked that second question, let alone a third.
Only the knowledge of having four children comforted her. Demeter wouldn't be alone. The mystery of their father lingered in her mind with a clue only she knew.
From youth to adulthood, there was only one to her.
He was the extension to her brazen nature, the one that was solely named the 'husband of the fertile earth.' Poseidon.
She had known him through every age, from a boy to a king. And she had drawn closer each reflection, caught in a pull she could neither resist or accept.
That was why Poseidon was Demeter's greatest tragedy.
The perfect love that would never be fulfilled.
A single tear slipped from her eye as Arion galloped the last stretch towards Mount Olympus. She hadn't even wiped it away when he shouted: "Father!"
The word struck her like a sea storm.
Arion would never claim another goddess as his mother, nor any other god as his father. Only Poseidon. Demeter's heart clenched at this impossibility.
Before either of them could see her expression, she fled the scene, the shadow of her teardrops following her from behind.
Even in hiding, fate had sent her back to Poseidon, whom she ran into.
He hadn't changed. Still tall and sturdy-built. Still that man from the realm of her fantasy. The untameable half-naked male, in his long hair, and unkempt beard. Only his celery leaf crown made him different; the King of the Sea.
And yet, when he saw her... his voice faltered. "Demeter."
It was her name, but at that moment, she wished it wasn't. She bit her lip. No word should pass her mouth.
Without turning back, she escaped.
Poseidon called after her, his despair shivering the leaves of Mount Olympus. He gave chase, but she outran him again and again until he hurled his trident, planting it in the ground before her feet.
Demeter froze at the threat.
Poseidon approached from behind. Slow. Cautious. Before she could move, his arms wrapped around her. He held her there, close, infusing himself with her essence.
And then he cried.
His tears spilled onto her shoulders, hot with guilt. Yet, they didn't soften Demeter. With a sharp thrust of her elbow into his stomach, she broke free.
As he staggered back, she slapped that adulterous cad of a soulmate. Demeter jabbed her finger at his chest, her face flushed in anger. "Go back," she spat, "to your nymph mistresses Celaeno or Alcyone, or your queen wife, Amphitrite. I want nothing more from you. I never want to see you again."
Poseidon's chin dipped to his chest as he went to retrieve his trident. He was turning away when memory hit him. Her smile in the darkness of Cronus' belly. Their fingers laced together. Their first kiss. The birth of Arion.
Nostalgia choked him.
Poseidon couldn't let go. Not now. Not ever.
With a sudden resolve, his heels spun around and he removed his crown, casting it at her feet. He walked to her, bare of symbols. Only himself.
Demeter watched him, stunned. Her mouth parted but her feet could no longer move.
He came closer.
Too close.
She backed away, heart pounding, and he followed.
What began as an argument became a game of hide and seek, and it ended with both of them collapsing, breathless.
For a heartbeat, the world was back to what it used to be again.
"Are you angry with me?" Poseidon asked.
The question hung in the air, a single tear suspended, unwilling to fall from her eye.
She said nothing. Instead, she curled to her side, guarding what hadn't been yet hurt by him.
Poseidon sat up, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth. "You have to believe me, Demeter." His plea, coated in grief, trembled. "I can't speak a word to anyone. But if I could turn back time... I would have taken you with me."
He reached for her, fingers brushing her arm to grasp her wrist, holding on to a past of herself. The one who used to love him. She was no longer there, and he released her. "Someone wanted us apart. Someone who is still there. Someone at hand from you."

Was it true? Was it a lie?
To make up for his absence,
He had far more to prove to Demeter.

"Father!" Arion drew nearer. "Mother!" he added, joy lighting his face as he galloped into view.
Poseidon stood and brushed dust from his robe as he arched his brows at the horse. "Arion, is that really you?"
They both laughed at the question. Poseidon gave him a pat on the shoulder, still stunned. He remembered how Arion had come to be. Demeter had challenged his love for her with one of the most difficult enigmas to solve:

'A stable companion
A wild but good-natured demeanour
A sturdy beast who can out-beat my own heart.'

He overthought and missed the equation's simple resolution.
He searched the earth, sea, and skies to end up crafting a creature of divine power and flawless beauty. A being that called her mother while the answer to Demeter's riddle was for Poseidon himself.
"You've grown." Poseidon grinned, his hand running into Arion's lush, walnut coloured fur. "What in Chaos' name has your mother been feeding you?"
He gave the horse a playful nudge, and Arion chuckled, tossing his mane. Poseidon rose on his toes, measuring their heights with mock surprise. "You're nearly as tall as I am."
Arion's ears twitched. "I heard you've brought a brother and a niece for me," he said, curious. "Can you introduce us?"
Poseidon's smile faltered.
Before he could answer, Demeter cut him. "He can't." Rising, her eyes didn't meet Poseidon's again. "We are not related to them."
In one swift move, she pulled Arion alongside her and mounted him. They turned and rode away towards her temple, leaving Poseidon standing alone, the dust of their departure blurring his image.
They were once a family until he left them both.
She had every right to be angry at him.