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Schelemeus' Statues

Summary:

Melinoë had nearly forgotten about the Gifts of the Veil. It wasn’t until she was in the middle of demonstrating Ygnium’s various attacks when she noticed Moros had gone unusually still, not paying the slightest attention to her.

Rather, he was paying attention to the inanimate Melinoë, carved and polished in jade, standing proud and tall in the far back of the training grounds, her abdomen on full display.

“Oh.” Melinoë could smack herself. “I can explain.”

***

Melinoë keeps forgetting about the Gifts of the Veil when she has visitors at the training grounds.

Notes:

My first Hades fic. Hope you enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Melinoë returned to the Crossroads to find Moros near his usual spot by the Fated List. He gestured her over when their eyes met. 

“If you would indulge me for a moment, Princess. I have a small favor to ask.” 

“What is it, Lord Moros?” 

“I recall you mentioned one of the Nocturnal Arms you wield—Ygnium, I believe—held an Aspect that would one day attune to… me. In the future.” 

“Yes. I’ve been making good use of it as of late, in fact. Would you like to see it?” 

“If it’s not too much trouble for you.” 

Melinoë smiled. “Certainly not. Shall we head to the training grounds, then?” 

Moros smiled back. “I’ll let you lead the way.” 

 

Melinoë had nearly forgotten about the Gifts of the Veil. It wasn’t until she was in the middle of demonstrating Ygnium’s various attacks that she noticed Moros had gone unusually still, not paying the slightest attention to her. 

Rather, he was paying attention to the inanimate Melinoë, carved and polished in jade, standing proud and tall in the far back of the training grounds, her abdomen on full display. 

“Oh.” Melinoë could smack herself. “I can explain.” 

Moros whirled around. “Yes! I mean—no! No need to explain. Ygnium certainly speaks for itself.” 

Melinoë cringed. “I was talking about the statue.” 

“Ah. Right.” Moros averted his eyes from Melinoë, both in the flesh and in stone-chiseled bikini. “I suppose I was… a bit… curious.”  

Melinoë sighed. “Commander Schelemeus said that the Gifts of the Veil were bestowed upon me by the Fates, although I have the feeling he was the one who commissioned them as a sort of… challenge. If they really were the handiwork of the Fates, I don’t suppose you’d know anything about it?” 

Moros glanced warily at Schelemeus, who was too busy drilling the other Shades about battle formations to hear their conversation. 

“I… can’t say that I do,” Moros said. “And I don’t suppose those other two Gifts are…” 

“Only one way to find out,” Melinoë murmured. “I have to swear the Oath and successfully make it past all of Chronos’ forces, and then past Chronos himself. Same goes for the surface.” 

“Naturally.” Moros cleared his throat, then quickly composed himself at a rate that never failed to impress Melinoë. “My apologies. I believe you were demonstrating Ygnium’s flames before I interrupted.” 

“No apology needed. Actually, there was one move I’ve been meaning to practice…” 

*     *     *

Nemesis stopped dead in her tracks and grimaced. “What the hell…?” 

“Courtesy of the Commander,” Melinoë explained. She had urged Schelemeus and the rest of the Shades ahead of time to vacate the training grounds so she and Nemesis could spar. It was her fault for forgetting to cover the statue, really. “I earned it fairly by swearing the Oath, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Wasn’t even on my mind. If anything, the fact that it doesn’t portray you accurately is the unfair part.” 

“Well, it’d likely be a lot less flattering if it were to portray me accurately.” 

“That’s not—” Nemesis frowned. “Just pick up your staff already.” 

“I was thinking about using Lim and Oros this time around,” Melinoë replied as she drew the blades from the witch’s circle. 

Nemesis twirled Stygius in her grasp. “Not that it’s gonna make much of a difference.” 

“I suppose we can’t all have the same musculature as our statue counterparts.” 

Nemesis narrowed her eyes. “I’ve probably got more muscles than that dumbass statue of yours, and yet you’ve still managed to beat me out there.” 

“My relatives on Olympus are largely to be accredited for that,” Melinoë replied sincerely. “And Headmistress Hecate.” 

Nemesis scoffed. “Can’t even take a damn compliment.” She raised her sword and assumed a fighting position. “Whatever. I’m out of nice things to say.” 

“Aren’t you always.” Melinoë readied her blades, then attacked. 

*     *     *

“Wait, what? And you’re only telling me this now?” Icarus had asked during a lull in the battle, somewhere in the Rift of Thessaly.

“It wasn’t a major concern, truly,” Melinoë assured. “It’s easy enough to evade my own magick since I’m so familiar with it. I’ve dealt with blows twice as bad.”  

“Still doesn’t make it right. If you would’ve told me earlier that even a sliver of your magick was harming yourself because of something I did—”

“Please don’t feel guilty about it, Icarus. I took that hammer knowingly and of my own accord.”

“Well… at least let me fix it. Maybe I could, I don’t know, sneak into the Crossroads? I’d have to study your magick up close.” 

“I told you before that you’re welcome at the Crossroads anytime. What makes you think you need to sneak around?” 

“Well, you might welcome me anytime, Meli. But I don’t really want the others down there seeing me, you know?” 

“If that’s what you wish. You remember where the training grounds are?”  

“I do. Meet you there later tonight?”  

“Tonight.” 

 

Melinoë met her fate at the rocket of a satyr on Olympus. She gasped as she used the last of her strength to return to the dais by her tent, her body wholly reconstituted with no signs of a bloody explosion. 

“You good there, Mel?” Dora asked from where she was hovering in the tent. 

“Aside from the fact that I was nearly at Prometheus’ doorstep before I was ambushed from behind, I’m alright,” Melinoë said bitterly. 

“Eh, you did what you could. And there’s always next time.” Dora floated closer, then dropped her voice to nearly a whisper. “Hey, I don’t know if this is a good time to tell you, but I kind of saw someone snooping into the training grounds just now.” 

“Oh. Well, I’m sure it was nothing.” 

“You sure? I mean, he had these, like, huge wings, but he didn’t look like a harpy to me. Actually, I think he might’ve looked a bit familiar.” 

Melinoë sighed. “Truthfully, I was expecting him. Please don’t tell anyone else you saw him.” 

“Uh, okay. Wait, is he that soft guy from way back?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean. I’ll catch up with you later, Dora.”  

“Yep. Totally. Won’t tell a single soul about him.” 

Melinoë first visited the Wretched Broker to pawn some fish as if everything was normal. If Hecate had noticed Icarus’ presence in the Crossroads, she made no sign of it as she conversed with a fellow witch near the brewing pot. 

Afterwards, Melinoë headed to the training grounds. Schelemeus was nowhere to be seen, perhaps on break. Only a few Shades loitered about, and one of them just so happened to be admiring the Gifts of the Veil. 

Icarus turned to greet Melinoë, an oddly amused grin on his face. “Either I’ve never known about your interest in fine sculpture, or you must have really changed your taste over the years.”

Melinoë blanched. “Oh… You’ve seen them already.” 

“Was I not supposed to? And I don’t mean to make fun of you or anything,” Icarus added hurriedly. “It really is remarkable craftsmanship.” 

Melinoë joined Icarus’ side to gaze up at the Gifts, her arms crossed. “I suppose so, perhaps from a… subjective point-of-view.” 

Recently, she had unveiled the second Gift. This statue was sculpted in silver, kneeling on the ground and wielding an axe raised high, the contours of the muscles no less humble than the first. 

“You don’t like them?” Icarus asked. He was smiling, likely because he already knew the answer. 

Melinoë shrugged with a small grin of her own. “They’re a bit over the top.” 

“Just a little,” Icarus agreed. “Still badass, though.”

Melinoë gazed at the statues. “Hmm. Is she?” 

“You are.” Icarus froze. “Um, I-I mean, it is! I can only imagine the amount of—of skill and creative expression that went into it.” 

If Shades still had blood, Melinoë thought Icarus’ face would be red by now. 

“Yes, well, the sculptor is… certainly a master at their craft. But I believe we’ve digressed enough. You were here to study my magick?” 

Icarus laughed nervously. “Right, of course. We can’t have you blowing yourself up on the battlefield.” 

“Now that would be quite the embarrassment.” 

*     *     *

It took several nights of bloody fighting for Melinoë to earn the honor of unveiling the third Gift. But the three statues ended up becoming so distracting to the point she finally covered them back up.  

It was just as well then that Eris decided on a whim to take a stroll in the Crossroads, Exagryph still slung over her shoulder. Shades scattered as she nonchalantly approached them, in which she seemed to take great delight. 

“Aww, am I really that scary?” Eris asked playfully. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that you’re carelessly armed in a place where deadly weapons are prohibited?” Melinoë replied flatly. 

“Don’t answer my question with a question, Trouble. And if I really were careless, this cute little scout camp you got going on wouldn’t be so pretty, would it?”  

“That isn’t funny, Eris.” 

“Wasn’t trying to be. Speaking of blowing things up, you must keep your own weapons around here somewhere, right? Considering the last time you chopped my head off with an axe twice the size you are.” 

Melinoë couldn’t help the discomfort growing in her chest. “I’d rather not hurt you at all, but you’re not exactly making it easy for me.” 

“Life wouldn’t be much fun if it were easy. Besides, you gotta help me keep my aim sharp.” 

Melinoë couldn’t tell whether that was a compliment or a threat. 

Eris paused at the entrance to the training grounds. The Shades standing guard at the entrance peered down at the two goddesses, mostly in Eris’ direction. 

“Let her pass,” Melinoë said. No point in stopping her now. 

Eris grinned smugly. “You’re too nice to me, you know that?” She walked past the guards. 

“I often think that as well,” Melinoë muttered, following closely behind.  

At the first sight of Eris, nearly all the Shades in the training grounds fled into the woods of Erebus, forcing Schelemeus to chase them down. Eris paid no attention to this. 

“Huh. It’s spacious, I’ll give it that. For a secret hideout in the woods. Oooh, this is a cute trinket collection!” 

“You mean Keepsakes,” Melinoë replied. 

“Pssh, I know what I’m talking about.” Eris leaned her face closer to the glass. “Oh, there’s my Bell! And there’s Nem’s Eye, and that’s Moros’ Pin… Wait. Is that why you’re always going around passing out free nectar? To collect friendship tokens?” 

“To build friendships, yes,” Melinoë clarified. “I never asked for anything in return.” 

“You would claim something goody-two-shoed like that, wouldn’t you?” Eris said before her wings flitted her from one side of the training grounds to the next. “Is that a birdhouse? And why do you still have that ugly toad around?” 

“It’s not a—”

“Oh, I remember this skull thing! Those explosions were real nasty that one time. Ugh, so annoying.”

“Please don’t touch that—”

“Now what do we have over here?” 

Eris stood before the Gifts of the Veil, all three statues cloaked in Night’s drapery once again. 

Melinoë had a bad feeling about this. “That’s…”

“Yeah, yeah, the secret Gifts of the Veil, I’m not supposed to look at it, or whatever. They’re like your trophies or something for saving the Underworld, I bet.” 

“I wouldn’t exactly put it that way,” Melinoë muttered. 

Eris raised an eyebrow. “These aren’t parts of some secret weapon, are they?”

“No. And if they were, I wouldn’t have let you in here in the first place. They are perfectly harmless, in the physical sense.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I think you should go, Eris. There’s not much else to see here.” 

“Eh, I guess. This place is getting boring already.” 

Eris paused, grabbed onto the corner of the pink veil, and pulled

“Don’t—!” Melinoë cried, but it was too late. 

Eris froze at the sight: a golden statue of bodybuilder Melinoë wearing loose strips of suggestive fabric while holding the severed skull of Schelemeus. 

Suddenly, Eris doubled over with the loudest laugh Melinoë had ever heard. 

“I can't believe —” Eris cackled, “—you have a—that’s just—hahahahahaha!” 

Melinoë facepalmed as her cheeks grew hot. 

“You’ve actually managed to surprise me for once, babe! There is some hope for you after all. Wait ‘til Nemesis and Moros hear about this!” Eris flew across the training grounds and disappeared from view. 

“Too bad they already know,” Melinoë said to no one but herself. 

*     *     *

Chronos lost the war. 

Some months after Melinoë reunited with her family, Zagreus visited the Crossroads for the very first time. Schelemeus was currently on an extended break, now that there was little need for recruiting additional Shades. 

At first, Zagreus was fascinated by the Nocturnal Arms and Keepsakes in Melinoë’s possession, but it didn’t take him long to find the three imposing Gifts that sparkled under the moonlight. After Eris’ stunt, Melinoë had figured there was no point in trying to hide them any longer. 

“Whaaat? That’s so cool! I never got statues of myself,” Zagreus said. 

“I’m afraid you’re going to end up sounding like Narcissus,” Melinoë replied. 

Zagreus rolled his eyes smugly. “What, like you don’t stop to admire your own statues every so often?” 

“I— N-Not to the extent of staring at your own reflection in the pools of Oceanus for all eternity.” 

“Well, as long as you’re not that guy, there’s nothing wrong with having some self-worth. Even if some parts are… you know. Exaggerated.” 

Melinoë gave him a flat look. 

“I hope my statues are still intact somewhere,” Zagreus mused. “We’ve still yet to salvage everything at the House. I’ve got to carry out renovations all over again…” 

“I thought you said you didn’t have statues of yourself.” 

“Oh, I have statues, alright. I went through hell fighting through Father’s legions so I could unveil them. And they weren’t even of me!” 

“Who were they of, then?” 

“Oh, this Shade named Skelly. He volunteered to be my personal training dummy. Actually, I haven’t seen him since…” 

“Wait a minute.” Melinoë picked up her staff. On cue, a summoning circle appeared on the stone dais. 

“All hands on deck! Now, which loyal disciple will kindly inform me what’s going— Boyo?!” 

Zagreus gawked. 

Notes:

Death to Chronos and #free my boy Zag

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