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When Mydeimos first saw him, there was no doubt that he was the son of the beauty goddess.
The son, named Phainon, was barely a god at the time. Rumor among the nymphs was that the godling had come to being after a chance meeting between the beauty goddess and a mortal Grove scholar, but the beauty goddess has vehemently denied that the “blasphemer who doesn't even believe in gods" could ever meet her mettle.
(And equally, when nymphs and muses asked the scholar while he was in his lonesome, he rolled his eye and scoffed, saying that he'll never be entranced by a “golden witch".
Well, a godling had to come from somewhere.)
He was young when he first heard that rumor from nymphs that wandered from the Styx. Mydei was a teenager, brought by his father, Eurypon, one of many Titans who fought against other Titans, and his mother, Gorgo, a Fury of might, up to the mountains of what mortals call Olympus, but to them, it was Okhema. Their underworld, the world he and the denizens call Castrum Kremnos, has long since been separated from its godly brethren after the fall of Nikador and the other older Titans, and his father, spurred by his mother, who had the best interests of the many beings who call Castrum Kremnos home, finally climbed out of the underworld to reconnect.
Mydei wanted to be part of the discussions then. Really, he did. He was the prince of Castrum Kremnos, and one day, he'll take up the mantle from his father when his mother finally drags him away to Elysium to spend their eternal days in respite.
But the goddess of Passage and Fates, Tribios, and her many childlike messengers, whisked him and some younger gods away from the elder divine’s discussions, guiding them down the radiant halls of the holy city, with one childlike messenger going, “We’d rather you enjoy the pleasantries than join in all that boring talk!"
(To which one messenger spoke up next to her, "Trianne, you'll be a part of the talk too after we bring the children out," and that messenger named Trianne flinched and frowned.)
There weren't really many younger godlings in that room. There was a girl with bouncing pink hair who chased a pegasus that had crumbs on its mouth, and a girl with feline ears and tail, wearing a mischievous grin while she was eyeing the golden globe of the mortal world.
Mydei stayed silent as he fidgeted with his tunic of black and red. If he could only bring Polyxia and Castorice, daughters of Nyx, then they would have enjoyed being here more than he does. Even Polyxia is more sociable, and Castorice had to carry her around.
But the eternal sun that shone through the columns glittered amongst polished marble, and Mydei followed its shine to the silvery shine of-
Him.
Young, pale, and blue-eyed. The girl with feline ears and the other with pink hair both walked over to him, and a messenger of Tribios was there as well, who pouted when the girl with feline ears tried to steal something from the boy’s person, and the boy just laughed.
That laugh made Mydei stare. It was loud and full of life, like one of the Shades that littered the walls of Castrum Kremnos’ audience hall.
And perhaps, he stared for a little too long. The girl with pink hair noticed him staring and tugged on the boy’s tunic, and the boy turned to him next.
His cheeks were dusted pink. His blue, bright eyes shone like sapphires against the silver of his hair.
Mydei was never that good at writing poetry. But perhaps, for the first time, he will try.
And the prince only found out his name after he and his parents returned to Castrum Kremnos, Mydei having only sat down in silence that whole time as the girl with feline ears kept trying to sneak away with his golden brooch.
That blue-eyed, silver-haired boy was named Phainon. Beautiful, as expected of the beauty goddess’s child.
Over the years, Mydeimos was only content to gaze. Sure, he had conjured up the courage to talk and socialize over the next few meetings, knowing the name of the daughter of the Sky with the pegasus, Hyacine, and the feline daughter of trickery, Cifera…
…but Phainon, son of beauty and a scholar, and supposedly the soon-to-be god of the dawn and harvest, Mydei had restrained himself.
Not because he was unpleasant to talk to, oh no, but because Mydeimos knew he could not possibly be at Phainon's side, and neither could he.
Because Phainon was of Okhema. He was of the dawn and of light. And Mydeimos was of Castrum Kremnos. Of the dead, and of strife.
So, for as much as Phainon smiles and encourages him to drink and be festive whenever Mydei comes up to Okhema, the now king of the underworld lets it stay at that. A conversation. An arm squeeze. A smile. He lets the light stay there without coveting it greedily.
Because that's how things should be.
So why then, in Mydeimos’ dark bedchambers lit by the warm everflame of the underworld, laid upon the wine-red sheets of his kline, is that damn bright light here?
“Alas, I have been captured by the god of the underworld!” Phainon exclaimed in a mock, desperate tone, his light blue chiton slipping off his shoulders as he waved his rope-bound wrists, “Please lock me up and don't let me go!”
…Mydei doesn't know where his eye twitched at. It was either from the way Phainon’s chiton slipped off and showed off his unmarred, pink-dusted pale collarbone atop a muscled body, or the fact that Phainon was here, right here, waving his wrists around like Mydeimos himself had tied him up.
And of course, the most sensible thing to say at that time was, “HKS, get the fuck out of my bed.”
Phainon had the gall to gasp. A very dramatic one at that. “Look, I might be your prisoner, but I do deserve some respect.”
A vein popped out from Mydei's forehead. The same way it would whenever a Shade came into the audience hall with an outrageous request. “You- I didn't even- blood and darkness- how did you even get here?”
"Cipher, of course,” Phainon said, and Mydeimos sighed exasperatedly. Because of course. Cifera might be under an Okheman banner, but as the goddess of trickery and speed, she had some kind of divine permission to go in and out of Castrum Kremnos as she pleased.
And apparently, she took the single man that Mydei knew, sensibly, that he couldn't have.
“You," Mydei said pointedly as he walked over to the bed, "should go back to Okhema."
“But I am captured," Phainon responds, even dodging Mydei's hand when the king tries to grab him by his rope-bound wrists, “and so, technically, I am yours.”
Mydei ignores the way those words made his immortal heart thump loudly in his ears for two beats. “You are not captured. Did Cifera do this to you?”
"Oh no, I did this myself,” Phainon grinned rather proudly as he raised his wrists, and Mydei didn't even want to ask how.
Okay. Well. That's not the point right now. The point was- "Your mother will wage war upon me knowing you are here.”
And she will know. Because just a week ago, Mydeimos had visited Okhema again to discuss the current war among the mortals because there was a sudden influx of souls being guided by Polyxia and Castorice, and Phainon had come to his side, sweating from what he says was a spar against the knight of law and goddess of the ocean, Hysilens.
She will know, because as Phainon squeezed his arm and invited him to come by after he met with Aglaea and left, Mydeimos turned his head instinctively to the lingering scent that the god left at his side- sweet and light, like clouds of a summer he never once knew, eyes closed as he took it all in one breath.
She will know, because Mydeimos turned back to face Aglaea, and her blank blue-green eyes looked at him as if she knew every thought that ran through his head.
Mydei never shuddered in fear towards anything. But that gaze alone would make him pause. He knew his place.
And Phainon doesn't, blood and darkness.
“She will not," Phainon pushed himself to sit on the kline with a push of his elbow, smiling, “because even if she grieved, she respects the story of the pomegranate seeds."
Mydeimos froze.
The story of the pomegranate seeds. The only native fruits that grew down here in Castrum Kremnos. He knows its story - before he was born, his mother stood at the entrance of Castrum Kremnos, opened a pomegranate, ate all of its seeds, and vowed to stay by his father's side and fight against the elder Titans who were pushed down into Erebus.
From then on, eating pomegranates from Castrum Kremnos became a symbol that you were staying here forever. Shades are fed the fruit as their first sustenance.
“You," Mydei stared down at Phainon with an incredulous look, "what did you do?"
Phainon's smile went from mischief to a confident calmness. “When mother tried to stop me at the entrance, I plucked a pomegranate from the overstretched tree,” he moved his bound hands to imitate his past actions, plucking from the air and bringing it up to his lips, "and bit half of it.”
Half. There are twelve seeds in a pomegranate. So-
"Six months on the surface, delivering the dawn and a bountiful harvest,” Phainon grinned, "and the other six here, where I am the king's consort.”
Is he mad? “Are you mad, Deliverer?” Mydei's eye twitched again.
"I am quite sensibly in love with you,” Phainon smiled like the sun.
…The king of the underworld groaned, sliding a hand over his face as he tried to look away from the beaming smile of the one man he knew he couldn't have. Of the one man, he knew he could not possibly covet to be his.
His hand dropped down from his eyes, and he met Phainon's sapphire blue and ever-present smile.
Mydei felt breathless. Mydei groaned again.
Damn pomegranates. Damn, immortal heart. He'll take it out of his chest himself.
(...and possibly offer it to Tribios in gratitude in secret later.)