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“Darling?”
“Hmm?” Tiresias hummed from where his head was resting on the god’s shoulder, legs dangling over the cliff to the river below. Hermes looked down at their intertwined hands with a soft smile, watching the way the prophet’s thumb ever so gently traced over his knuckles.
“Why do you wear your blindfold?” Hermes asked quietly. It was no secret that the prophet was blinded by his father’s wife. Hera was never a very kind woman to any who opposed her, even in such a silly argument like the one that led to the prophet’s blinding in the first place. Tiresias paused his tracings, hand laying still in the god’s. For a moment, Hermes worried the question was maybe more sensitive than he anticipated. The two of them had talked about the matter before. It didn’t seem too personal. Nothing was too personal with the two of them anymore. The god and the prophet barred their souls to one another. Shared their deepest secrets in the silence of the Underworld, whispered their deepest desires where no other shades could hear their voices.
The silence stretched on for a moment before Tiresias lifted his head, keeping his face forward towards the river, but not retreating his hand. “I..-” The prophet started before a frown tugged at his lips. “I do not wish to frighten anyone who looks at me..” He said slowly, voice just above a whisper. Hermes frowned, giving a gentle squeeze to the hand resting in his own. He can remember the few times he had seen Tiresias back on earth. Once before his first encounter with Hera, a bright smile, short light brown hair shining in the sunlight. A young man, no older than eighteen running through the streets of Thebes. The next time he laid eyes on the prophet, he was already cursed. A long piece of cloth wrapped tightly around his eyes as visitors came to seek their future. His bright smile was long gone, but Hermes always thought Tiresias was beautiful. In life and in death. It was hard to forget that that man sitting next to him faced such a hard life at the hands of his family. His father’s wife cursed him and his brother, shooting the arrow that struck him down forever.
He even became a priestess to Hera, trying so desperately to appease the goddess, only to continue to suffer in his mortal life. Even now, in the Underworld, fears what people may think of him. Keeping the strip of cloth wrapped around his eyes so as to not displease those around him.
“How could anybody be frightened by someone with beauty like yours?” Hermes asked softly, pulling Tiresias’ hand up higher and placing a light kiss on his knuckles. The frown didn’t leave the prophet’s face as he turned to face the god.
“Do not tease, Hermes.” Tiresias sighed. The god frowned, shaking his head even though it didn’t mean much.
“I am not teasing, darling. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you. You could never frighten anyone, especially not me. It pains me to hear you think of yourself that way.” Hermes mumbled into the skin pressed to his lips before carefully placing a kiss on every knuckle before turning Tiresias’ hand, making sure to kiss the pad of every finger.
“I was told it was…unsettling.” Tiresias mumbled softly, head dropping back onto the god’s shoulder.
“And who told you such a thing?” Hermes asked before taking the prophet’s other hand to repeat the same kisses.
“My husband.” Hermes froze for a second. Only a second before continuing to shower his lover in light kisses. It was easy to forget his love had a love of his own before. Back on earth so many life times ago. A husband and three daughters in the seven year span of being a woman. It wasn’t a secret or something they acted like never happened. Tiresias simply never spoke of that time. Hermes thinks it’s because it was too painful to revisit. Three children he loved so dearly and a husband he shared his life with for those seven years. Before he was blinded and was given the gift of foresight, at only twenty years old he had his life turned upside down. He made the best of it of course. Finding love and having three beautiful children all before the age of twenty five. Only to turn twenty seven and be turned back to his original form and lose it all. The husband that he loved left, taking the children with him. “He still let me visit the children on occasion. After…after I was blinded, he told me my eyes were too unsettling for the children. That they would be scared of me over something I was cursed with. So I started to cover them up.” Tiresias spoke slowly, a pained expression coming over his face. “I did not want them to be afraid of me.” Hermes frowned. He knew of Tiresias’ husband on earth. Not a kind man, but one Tiresias loved anyways, too consumed by love to see any of the man’s real faults.
“Your husband was a fool.” Hermes frowned, wrapping an arm around the prophet’s waist to pull him in closer. “He did not deserve you if he couldn’t love you no matter how you look.” He mumbled, gently pulling the prophet's hood down to place more soft kisses into the light brown hair. “I think you are just devine, no matter what. I would have loved you no matter how you looked. You have always been beautiful. As a man or as a woman, even blind. I truly have never seen such beauty on a single person in all my years, and he is a fool for not seeing it.” Tiresias cracked a small smile, leaning into the god’s side with a light sigh.
“You are always far too kind to me, dearest.” Tiresias hummed. Hermes smiled, pressing his cheek into his lover’s hair as he looked out at the river. The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the river, simply existing together before Tiresias broke the silence with another whisper. “They were green.” He said. “My eyes. They were green. My mother used to say they were the color of freshly grown grass.” He said before pulling away, resting his own hands in his lap. “If you…If you do not like how it looks-”
“Darling,” Hermes frowned, resting a hand on Tiresias’ knee. “I will always love how you look, because I love you. I will always think you look beautiful. But you do not have to if you do not want to.”
“I want to.” Tiresias said quickly, twiddling his thumbs in his lap, mindlessly picking at his fingers. “I do. I just worry you will think differently of me and…and stop coming to visit.” He said slowly, head tilted down. Hermes frowned. Tiresias’ husband saw the person he married physically changed and left after seven years together. Like all that time meant nothing.
That Tiresias meant nothing.
“I will never stop coming to see you.” Hermes said firmly. “Never. Not even my father or uncle could stop me from being with you.” Tiresias let the words sink in for a moment before shaking hands slowly lifted up, towards the back of his head. Hermes watched as pale fingers slowly undid the knot that kept the cloth in place. He didn’t so much as blink as he watched Tiresias slowly start to unravel the cloth around his eyes. Underneath, his eyes were closed, and once the cloth was resting in a pile in his lap, his eyes stayed firmly shut. So far, there wasn’t any difference. Nothing seemed out of place. Only now, Hermes could see the long lashes dusting over his cheekbones and hidden freckles dancing on the apples of his cheeks and across his nose. Hermes’ breath caught in his throat. Watching the way a few short locks of hair danced in front of his darling’s closed eyes.
A few more moments passed as Tiresias simply sat there, eyes closed and picking away at his fingers before Hermes saw his lashes flutter. Ever so slowly, his eyes started to open and the god was looking right at a beauty that challenged the gods. Once green eyes now simply clouded over in a silver white haze. All previously green pigment was fully gone and replaced with silver beauty. Hermes didn’t realize how much emotion he couldn’t read on his lover’s face previously until the worry started to show on Tiresias’ face over the silence. “Hermes..?” He asked softly, voice already laced with worry and panic. As Tiresias’ rushed to grab the cloth in his lap, the god’s hand reached out, gently grabbing his wrist to stop him.
“Oh Darling,” Hermes said softly, letting go of his wrist to gently place each hand on the prophet’s cheeks, cradling his face like it was a precious stone. “You are so beautiful.” He breathed out, looking right into the unseeing eyes before him. “You truly are the most beautiful soul I have ever known.” He said, leaning forward to press kisses into the usually hidden skin of his upper cheeks. The god only stopped when he could taste salty tears falling down the prophets cheeks. “Darling, what is it?”
“You…You do not think I look scary?” Tiresias asked, brows furrowed together as a few single tears rolled down his face. Hermes buried his face into his lover’s neck before shaking his head.
“I do not. If anything, I think you are even more beautiful. I did not know you were hiding freckles under that cloth.” The god smiled. Tiresias let out a wet chuckle, wrapping his arms around the god’s neck, fully allowing himself to be showered in affection as Hermes continued his assault of kisses.
“I honestly forgot I had them.” Tiresias smiled. “Do you like them?”
“I love them.” Hermes said firmly, leaning back slightly to lightly trace a finger over the constellation of freckles across his nose. “I think you’re simply divine, Darling.” A smile stretched across Tiresias’ face and Hermes couldn’t help but smile back. He was learning a whole new face. A whole new batch of emotions he couldn’t see before. He now saw the way Tiresias’ eyes crinkled in the corner when he smiled. The way his brows slightly knit together when he laughed. It was a whole new face he got to fall in love with all over again.
“Do you ever have visions of your children? See what they are doing now?” Hermes asked, lighting tracing the pad of his thumb over his darling's cheek.
“Sometimes. Rarely.” Tiresias hummed. “They all went on to do good. They’re all seers you know.” He said, a proud smile on his lips. “I miss them dearly, but all three of them went on to have good and happy lives and that’s all I could ask for. I have not run into any of them here though. I think it is maybe for the best.” He shrugged. “But all three of my girls went on to do great things. I have seen that.”
“Well of course they all went on to do great things, darling.” Hermes smiled. “They did come from you after all. How could they have grown to be anything less?” Tiresias let out a soft chuckle and Hermes simply watched in amazement at the slight crinkle in the corner of the prophet's eyes. The god still couldn’t fathom how he got so lucky. He truly believed Tiresias was made just for him to love. The only person in history made for him to shower in love and adoration. He could never get sick of his trips to the Underworld to see his darling. Could never get sick of hearing the way he spoke about his visions or the way he laughed at all of Hermes’ stupid jokes. A lot of time has passed since the prophet died. More time than he will ever admit to actually. Shades never had a good sense of time where they were, but Hermes saw the world move on. So many wars start and finish. So many new lives come and go in the blink of an eye. But still, there has yet to be another person to walk the mortal world who complements him so completely.
Hermes honestly had no problem taking his trips to see Tiresias. He had to go down a lot anyways, and his stops to see his darling were mandatory at this point. But that doesn't mean he ever stopped looking for a way to bring him home. Tiresias wasn’t a god. He could never set foot on Olympus. That’s just how things were, but Hermes looked into every single possible loophole he could find on the matter. Anything he could use to twist in his favor, but there was none. No loopholes. Nothing. Tiresias would simply be in the Underworld for eternity, and even though it pained Hermes, things could be worse, so he tried not to think about it too hard.
Tried not to think about how their relationship will never be more than it is now. His usual visits to deliver souls and messages to his uncle, always stopping to see Tiresias in the process. The two of them just sat on the cliff, hand in hand and talking about whatever they could think of. But a part of the god’s soul craved more. Filled with regret he didn’t act sooner. Find the prophet before death to love him. Hermes often thinks about how if he made his way to him sooner, things would be very different. There wasn’t a version of the prophet he couldn’t love.
Hermes would have gladly married the prophet if given the chance. Would have given him children if that’s what he wanted. Spent any and all of his free time on earth with their little family until Tiresias died, then simply continued their little life as they did now. The god craved all that extra time they missed out on. Craved the life the two of them could have had if things had been different and the fates had been on their side. But that simply wasn’t how things were. Tiresias had a life before he died. More of them technically. One as the young boy from Thebes, running through the streets and laughing. One as a young mother, married and raising children. One as a prophet that so many sought out for help and advice, crushed by the weight of his gift. So many lives that Hermes wasn’t a part of. That he wasn’t there to witness first hand.
“I can hear you thinking.” Tiresias said softly, ripping the god away from his own thoughts. “You think very loudly, dear.” He hummed with a soft smile.
“I’m sorry, Darling.” Hermes smiled, leaning over to press a soft kiss into light brown hair. “Lots to think about.”
“Are they at least good thoughts?” The prophet asked, head turning to face the god with those silver unseeing eyes. Hermes thought for a second. Even if the things he wanted could never happen, he wouldn’t trade what the two of them had for anything at this point. If this was the only way he could have Tiresias, it was better than not having him at all.
“Of course they are. I only ever think about you, Darling.” Hermes smiled simply. Tiresias smiled back, lacing their fingers together once more and leaning his head on the god’s shoulder. Hermes let out a happy sigh, resting his head back on his lover’s head and watching the river below as they slipped back into comfortable silence.
The two of them might never have some great romance story. Something that will make their mark on history like Achilles and Patroclus or Odysseus and Penolope. Nobody will write stories about their love, or even know of its existence, but that was okay. Nobody else ever needed to know. The two of them had each other and the rest of eternity to simply love each other in the hidden corners of Elysium away from the prying eyes of the other shades.
They had one another and a love that won’t fade with time, and Hermes couldn’t ask for anything more.