Chapter Text
With a loud gasp, Zagreus emerged from the River Styx. Lungs expanding with the oppressing heat of the underworld, he desperately gulped down a mouthful of air. He wasn't accustomed to the feeling of near drowning, no matter how many times he came through the watery entrance.
Carelessly casting off droplets like a wet dog, he wiped the water from his eyes and shook out his hair. As he wrung out his chiton, the prince noticed that the room was uncharacteristically silent. Normally, you could hear hustle and bustle of busy work and quills scratching on reams of papyros. There was nothing but the gentle sounds of stygian waters lapping against the pool tiles in the portico. Zagreus ventured out, cautiously ascending the stairs.
The stately interior of the House of Hades' vestibule awaited him beyond the banks of the River Styx.
Home.
Along the marble hallway, there were imposing colonnades and jewel-studded amphorae filled with fragrant lily cuttings. A long, ornate rug ushered in new shades, mortals who had moved on from the surface, into the court of Lord Hades. The greatest warriors and the lowliest thieves on earth walked this procession to have their pleas and punishments weighed on his father's scale.
His father… Lord of the Underworld.
The semi-transparent queue of souls normally winding along the hall had dissipated and now gathered in clusters along the walls. Quiet conversations followed him as he padded across the foyer. Several shades floated aimlessly in his path, but his mass cut through them effortlessly; like a sharp exhalation through a thin sliver of smoke.
Stepping into the main hall, he was instantly confronted by a formidable stone desk and throne. Seeing it was vacant, Zagreus stopped abruptly... Normally, his father was doling out punishments at this time, a duty he upheld to the nth degree. The shades probably saw this as a temporary respite before eternal damnation.
Peering to the side of the desk, a huge quilted bed was situated in the corner. Albeit covered with hair, it sat bereft of its three-headed hound… A gigantic half-chewed bone lay perilously near the cushion's edge.
In spite of knowing why the trials had been paused, Zagreus was not inclined to dwell on the subject too long...
He continued along, avoiding eye contact with the mural dominating the wall behind the desk. It was a self-aggrandizing piece featuring his father's dominating visage set in hundreds of colored stones. They glittered in a kaleidoscope of colors, polished to perfection by the servants of the house.
“I told you that you cannot leave this place.”
“Whatever…” Zagreus muttered under his breath.
A deep ache emanated from his shoulder where he had collided with the jagged surface of a boulder. For an old man, his father was a challenging opponent, throwing him around with ease. He had fought hard, hell bent on sending Zagreus careening back into the underworld from where he attempted to claw himself free. Finding himself on the wrong end of his father’s spear, the darkness had swallowed him…
“I'm sending you home, now, boy…”
Turning his back on the desk, he walked out.
—
He was being overtaken by a never-ending torrent of confused emotions with every step he took. When he returned from a frenzied escape attempt, his questions multiplied like hydra heads; every time he found an answer, he was faced with two new ones.
Perhaps he could consult Achilles for advice... Unlike his father, who grew frustrated and upset every time he asked questions, Achilles never appeared to tire of indulging him. He taught him how to wield weapons and defend himself, but he was more than just a mentor to the prince. The warrior, with his kind blue eyes and reassuring presence, was more of a father figure than his own blood... Zagreus held Achilles in such high regard for this reason among many others. In treacherous waters, he sought him like a fisherman clutching the bow of a sturdy ship.
However, as Zagreus wandered through the house, he became increasingly uneasy. He noted that those who were in debt to Lord Hades became nervous when discussing certain matters openly. Achilles had to imply from time to time that he would not be able to disclose certain information, usually with apologetic eyes. He didn't blame them for trying to avoid his father's wrath, no matter how infuriating it was. Nevertheless, Zagreus would keep trying.
When he turned the corner into the West Hall, he found that the wise sentinel had left his post. The only thing that greeted him was an ornate mirror hanging in his place. A sullen, slightly damp Zagreus stared back.
In the absence of the master of the house, he was probably seeking a respite from his responsibilities. Every now and then, Achilles enjoyed a stiff drink, so he probably retreated to the lounge.
Zagreus sighed in frustration. What did he do now? His mind was torn between heading to the lounge or spending time in his room... Planning. Coordinating. Trying to piece together bits and pieces of information he'd been provided.
Turning on his fire-licked heel, he set his course. He paused, however, when something caught his attention… On a settee in a small alcove, partially concealed by a potted palm, someone was reclining. As if a thread had been tied behind his navel, he felt a tugging sensation pulling him forward. Stepping closer, the individual became apparent through the haze of the dimly lit surroundings.
It was no other than the harbinger of death himself, Thanatos…
And was he… sleeping?
Looking around, Zagreus noticed a handful of torches smoldering in their sconces, dousing the hallway in darkness. And peering back to Than's scythe, it was carefully set against a column. The large purple eye embedded in the blade's heel glowed ominously. The massive pauldron he usually wore, as well as his gauntlets, were strewn beside him on the floor.
His silver hair fell away from his face as he rested his head against the wall behind him. Thantos was angular, his bone structure severe, creating a striking impression whenever he entered a room. In contrast, his eyelashes looked soft against the tops of his cheeks. Even his meticulously cut hair looked smooth to the touch Zagreus pondered as he gazed down on the sleeping man…
Except for the steady sound of his deep breathing, he was completely silent.
Zagreus was a bit surprised. When he pictured Thanatos, his mind conjured a stoic man who was punctual to the point of perfection, and who never missed a deadline. Finding him completely at ease was almost like witnessing something illusive... But it also brought back memories of simpler times…
The last time anyone slept here was when they were children... After a long day of roughhousing and causing trouble, the soft cushions were an ideal place to nap. He could remember Nyx’s warm embrace as she scooped them up and brought them to bed, tucking the blankets around their small bodies. Thanatos would wake him up sometimes, his limbs spasming as he fought back nightmares. The little prince would pull his companion closer until he could feel him ease back into blissful slumber, the terrors washing away. Then he would comfortably doze off, tiny hand clutched in the other boy’s.
Even as a grown man, Thanatos’s eyelids twitched the same way as when he was a little godling. He wondered if his dreams were the same or different. What did the personification of death even dream about? He could only imagine…
Gods how much everything has changed between them…
Spending every day together turned into long absences. When they did happen to run into each other, their former childhood camaraderie was no longer apparent… In its place they had formed a routine that was polite but stilted.
It used to never be like this… But some type of energy transmuted between them and Zagreus couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
When they were together in the same room Zagreus could feel the same tugging sensation behind his navel that drew him here now. It was an all consuming pull… However, Thanatos was barely around to let Zagreus explore it any further. He was too preoccupied with work to hang around for too long.
Zagreus never had the will to test Thanatos' boundaries. Their relationship was like water and oil, floating around each other but never mixing. What would happen if someone shook the bottle? Would it force them together like alchemy?
In the meantime, Zagreus acted like a sober man with a secret. He drank from the bottle whenever no one was watching. When Thanatos was unaware or preoccupied, such as this, Zagreus would relish in the moment. As soon as last sip dissipated, he began craving the next one like a degenerate.
Watching Thanatos now, some unnamed sensation began dominating him. His vision began fading around the edges, causing him to hyper focus… Thanatos’ knees sagged away from each other, legs relaxed. It was impossible not to glance down at the other man’s open lap. Zagreus could drop to the floor and crawl between those thighs. In that position, he could lean in and rub his cheek against the soft muscle. The mere thought made his hands flex restlessly.
Suddenly, Thanatos’ eyes blinked open, becoming aware of the interloper. He must have sensed his presence, even deep in sleep. The man knew where Zagreus lurked at all times, easily finding him in the deepest depths of Tartarus. It was funny how he thought he could slip by unnoticed.
Having been caught lounging on the clock, Thanatos made a move to sit up, but in his haste seemed to decide against it. He languidly fell back into his reclining position, his posture becoming affected; calculated, intentional, and fully self-aware.
The Prince thought the man looked awfully like a mountain lion relaxing on a rocky outcrop, leisurely debating whether or not to venture out in search of an easy meal. In his current state, he might have become the hare who wandered into the clearing just beneath the lion’s stone perch.
The harbinger of death lazily studied the prince, his gaze landing on Zagreus’ chiton. His attention made him realize his clothes were still damp. Starting to feel self-conscious, Zagreus became highly attuned to where the fabric was clinging to him.
“Zagreus...” came Thanatos’ acknowledgment. Whenever he spoke the prince’s name, he seemed to draw it out on his tongue.
“Thanatos...” Zagreus responded. “It’s not like you to sleep on the job.”
“I’m behind on my work, Zag. Seems wherever I have to clean up after you, it cuts into my plans. Forgive me for taking a moment to gather myself.” He looked put upon, his sullen expression holding onto deeper lines than usual.
“Didn’t mean to burden you,” Zagreus said. “I have to admit — It’s a relief to have someone do the work for me from time to time. Ransacking my father’s domain can be quite exhausting.” He laughed, aiming for levity. He hoped he sounded characteristically sure of himself.
“If I had a choice, you would be on your own. Why do you revel in making messes, so much?”
“Oh, come now, Than…” He responded with an incredulous laugh.
“Laugh all you want, Zag…” Thanatos looked aggravated, a crease deepening between his brows.
Sitting up from his comfortable position, Thanatos rolled his head from side to side. Zagreus could hear the soft sounds of cartilage grinding and popping.
“Without my assistance, you’d be wrecking havoc where it is not necessary and stuck swimming laps in the River Styx.” Glancing down, he considered Zagreus’ damp chiton. “However, even with my help you can’t seem to stop from jumping right in.” Reaching out, he rolled the hem of Zagreus’ chiton between his fingers, testing for residual moisture.
“I didn’t necessarily choose to go swimming, Than…” Zagreus chuckled ruefully. He purposefully omitted the why…
“You should probably find a change of clothes.”
“They will dry quickly enough.”
“Always the stubborn one. You haven’t changed much since we were children.” The look on Thanatos’ face was contemplative. His fingers still played idly with the hem of Zagreus’ tunic, lost in the mindless ministrations. “You single-mindedly blaze right ahead… Never considering what you’re doing.”
Silence fell between them.
Zagreus broke the long pause, his voice quiet. If anyone was listening, he didn’t want them to overhear their conversation. “I know you’re risking your station in this house by assisting me, Than. Please know I’m being sincere… I don’t take your help for granted.”
Thanatos absorbed his words, but his face didn’t give away how he felt about them.
“You’re getting stronger, Zag. You must be getting closer to reaching the surface.”
Dropping the hand which tugged at Zagreus’ hem, it returned to take residence in his other palm. Thanatos shifted so he could rest his elbows on his knees. Looking straight ahead at some undefined spot on the wall, he avoided Zagreus’ searching gaze.
The prince mourned the severed tie. He wanted to reach out and bring Than’s hand back.
“Closer, yes… However, I keep being swallowed back into the darkness, no matter how much I fight to resist it. I’m inexplicably linked to this wretched place.” Zagreus grimaced and something in Thanatos shifted.
“Ah… Wretched place.” Thanatos scoffed. His head dropped, shoulders sagging slightly. Hiding behind the curtain of his fringe, Zagreus couldn’t make out his expression.
Like a simple guppy, Zagreus nabbed the bait, catching his cheek on its sharp hook. He regretted it instantly.
“It’s difficult living under the authority of my father, Thanatos. In this blasted house. Especially knowing what I know now.”
“If I remember correctly, Zag… There are more people who reside in this house than just your father.”
“You can’t expect me to stay knowing he lied to me…”
“That is not what I’m talking about…” Thanatos stood up from his place on the settee, coming to his full height to meet the prince face to face. Zagreus took a couple steps back to accommodate his closeness.
“I understand you are seeking answers, but… How you left was unforgivable. What are we to you if we’re not even afforded a goodbye? Is that how you treat those close to you? What about Mother Nyx?”
“I care for Nyx, but she is not my mother. She lied to me, just as my father had…”
“Even though she was not able to be honest with you, she still cared for you, Zagreus. She cared for you like you were her own. Does this change all that? And what about me? Am I unworthy of a goodbye?”
Zagreus started to feel like he was stuck in a runaway chariot and braced for the ultimate collision.
“I left when it was necessary, Than. Please understand. I thought of you before…”
Thanatos made a halting motion with his hand.
"Don’t… I'm not looking for platitudes. My leisure time has now come to an end. There are mortal souls that really should be gathered. As I said before, I am behind on my work.”
Thanatos silently collected his armor from the floor. He tugged sharply at the loops and belts keeping his gauntlets in place, making short work of securing them. Zagreus stood dumbly nearby.
“You are tied to this place and you have shirked your duties for too long. You have obligations to this house and to the people who reside in it. If you were to look beyond yourself, you would see you have a place here.”
“Than… I don’t belong here and the answers lie on the surface. With my mother…”
“Know your place, Zagreus.” Thanatos growled, head snapping around to face him.
It seemed to Zagreus that Thanatos was about to depart, but the distance between them rapidly narrowed. Thanatos crowded him, his hand slipped by to grab his scythe by its long snath.
Zagreus nearly stumbled but regained his balance, his right foot situating itself behind him. Their noses were almost touching, but Thanatos kept his distance. Using their close proximity, the other man honed in on Zagreus. The brilliance of Thanatos' gaze, limned by the few flames still flickering beyond them, made his eyes look severe.
"I suggest changing clothes. You’re dripping everywhere, and Deusa will have to mop up after you. Tsch… You really are adept at making more work for everyone. " Zagreus could feel the warm breath against his mouth as the words passed.
"Hopefully, the answers you seek are worth the risk. I guess the people in this house be damned."
With that, Thanatos vanished, swept away in a burst of green light.
The torches roared to life, and the hallway was once again bathed in light.
Zagreus groaned…
“Lad?” With near comedic timing, Achilles entered the hallway, spear in tow. Achilles struck a more youthful appearance than his mature nature. His blond hair brushed above his shoulders and his blue eyes were bright. However, if you looked closer, you could see the weariness in the lines of his face.
Seeing Zagreus, Achilles immediately knew something was amiss.
“You have a look about you. Is everything alright?” He asked.
“Yeah… I’m… It’s fine.” Zagreus sighed, running his fingers though his unruly black hair.
The lie didn’t escape the retired warrior, but he didn’t prod… “You know where to find me if you ever wish to speak. I have all the time in the world, so feel free to make use of it.”
“Thank you, Achilles. I think... I'm gonna practice hitting something for a while.”
Achilles smiled, his expression revealing he knew more than he let on.
“Strenuous exercise is helpful for clearing the mind, but don’t wear yourself out.” He clapped Zagreus on the shoulder. Despite Zagreus being rather sturdy and Achilles not seeing battle for many decades, the strength of his hand almost made his knees buckle.
“Ah… You best dry off, lad.”
“I know. See you later, then.” He nodded and skulked off.