Chapter Text
Up on the surface, the unending winter had long since loosened its hold. With winter giving way to passing seasons, the necessity for war also waned. Greenery and laughter replaced where death and destruction once reigned. Life, much like its god, was tenacious. In the face of adversity, it learned to flourish.
“That is the last of it, my lord.” Thanatos stood before the dais and gave Hades his latest account. “Since Ares’ concluded his work, the mortals are perishing at a manageable rate. I’ve returned to my station. My sisters and the Styx have also returned to theirs.”
“Good. Perhaps we can take this time to reorganize the Underworld before Olympus makes a mess of things again.” Hades, the master of the House, sat forward in his throne, resting the side of his face against his fist. Thanatos waited to be dismissed like always, but Hades continued to stare down at him from the dais.
“Is...there anything else required of me?” Thanatos finally broke the silence, unable to bear the scrutiny.
“Thanatos, tell me something, are you going to spend your well earned rest looking for my son?" When silent agreement met his question, Hades heaved a sigh. "Thanatos, even we gods need a break. You cannot spend every waking minute searching for Zagreus. Mortals live short lives. Once he’s had this fill of the surface, he'll return in a decade or two."
“I’ll bear that in mind, Lord Hades.” Keeping his head down, Thanatos bowed. He displayed the adequate amount of respect and acquiescence to Hades’ advice, but it wasn’t enough to deceive the sharp eye of the Underworld King. Despite Thanatos’ show of acceptance, he was careful in his word choice. Not once did he agree he would stop looking for Zagreus.
“Very well. Do as you please.” Hades didn’t push the issue. He couldn’t find fault in Thanatos’ work- it was impeccable as it always was- and his devotion to Zagreus was commendable, if foolish. Unlike his relatives on Olympus, he wasn’t one to meddle in others affairs. Asking Thanatos to take head in his search and not exhaust himself was already uncharacteristic of him- influence from his wife no doubt. Not because he, himself, wondered about his son’s whereabouts. Of course not…
“Thank you, my lord. I’ll take my leave.” Thanatos bowed again, this time with more sincerity. As he was about to shift away, Hades gave him his parting words.
“There’s very little the stupid boy does that I approve of, like his decision to live on the surface. However, he’s chosen himself an appropriate consort. If you do find him, tell him that for me.”
Heat crept into Thanatos’ cheeks. “I...I will, Lord Hades. I’ll do my best.” Caught off guard, it was difficult to keep the stammer out of his voice. Though he often received praise from Hades about his excellent work performance, it was as a subordinate of the House. Somehow, it was different and more embarrassing to receive and accept a compliment about being an admissible son-in-law, no matter how indirect the praise was. Hiding the blush threatening to burn through his face, Thanatos bowed his head until his chin touched his chest. “Thank you again, my lord.”
“Go. You may leave.” Hades waved his hand. Audience concluded, he dismissed Thanatos and his attention returned to the scrolls sprawled across his desk.
At last free to go and use his short reprieve to begin his search, Thanatos gathered his power and shifted to where his heart laid to rest. It was a habit he developed over the years. Before leaving the Underworld- for work, sent out on a task, or any other reasons- he had to see Zagreus and say his goodbyes.
Soon, green light enveloped the prince’s chambers. It dispersed, leaving behind a deathly stillness.
Hovering just above the ground, Death Incarnate slowly surveyed his surroundings. Unlike his wayward prince, Death had always been content to stay where he was, quiet and unmoving. After all, it’d been a while since he last stepped foot inside the House, much less this room. He missed no details, drinking in the sight of the Prince’s chambers like a man dying of thirst would towards water.
Despite Zagreus’ decades-long absence, his chambers remained untouched. Dusa occasionally stopped by to prevent the dust from piling up, but the organized chaos of the room was kept intact.
Nothing untoward or unusual happened in the only place in the Underworld Zagreus called his own. Sometimes murmurs could be heard outside the prince’s chamber; music from the court musician occasionally drifted in. At times when the drinks flowed freely in the lounge across the hall, the merriment of the shades penetrated the layered curtains. It was as if life still existed in this room, keeping the hollow shell of Zagreus’ body company.
Candles flickered and burned beside the blood colored bed. Zagreus laid as still and white as death upon the satin pillow. Thanatos sat in the chair beside Zagreus’ bed and gazed down upon his beloved face, memorizing every line of it.
“Hello, Zagreus,” he said gently, his voice barely above the whisper of the Mirror of Darkness. He slipped his fingers beneath Zagreus’ limp hand and held it in his own. “It’s time to wake up. Come home. Haven’t you had enough of the surface yet? The world up there is so bright and loud. I don’t know how you can stand it. But I suppose it’s something you’d gravitate to. You were always restless with an insatiable curiosity.”
Thanatos waited as he always waited, watching the way the light played across Zagreus’ face, but no response came. It never did. With a small, bereft smile, he lifted Zagreus’ hand to his face and rubbed his cheek against it. “I had to reap the souls of a couple today. An old one by human standards. Often when I visit someone on their deathbed, their loved one is besides them, comforting or crying. It’s rare for a couple to die within minutes of each other and for me to escort their souls to the Underworld as a pair. After I severed the husband’s thread, he fluttered around me as a butterfly, as if he knew his wife would soon join him. I don’t know why, but I hesitated using the psychopomp. I didn’t immediately absorb their souls, but allowed the two to dance around each other in the air. It was...sweet. Humans usually feared Death, but they rejoiced in it. Did you know the butterflies in the Underworld have their life’s story painted on their wings? I read the couple as they flew around me. They met as children. She accidentally threw water on him. It wasn’t love at first sight, but later, as they grew older, they fell in love. Married young, but were never blessed with children. However, their life and love was full. They grew old together. Even in death, they remained by each other’s side.”
He stopped, thinking he’d seen movement in Zagreus’ face. But it was just his own shadow, moving along Zag’s skin as he rocked back and forth. There was no response. Not even the fire on his feet blazed; it sputtered out the moment Zag’s soul left his body. At least Zagreus said his goodbyes before he left. He prepared them, said he’d live one mortal life on the surface and return. He asked them to take care of his body while he frolicked on the surface. Thanatos told himself that Zagreus needed this or he’d never be truly happy in the Underworld or with him. But he never expected how lonely, how utterly lifeless the House was without its fiery prince. Home just wasn’t the same without him.
“Why do I continue telling you about the surface? You don’t need to ask me about the surface life anymore. By now, you probably know more about being up there than I do.”
He wished Zag would cough, or restless shift position, or anything. But he just laid there, so still, so unmoving. It wasn’t like Zagreus to not fidget or run his mouth nonstop. Thanatos missed his frantic energy; his warmth and his kindness. If Zagreus never returned, if he decided he preferred living on the surface, Thanatos wondered how he’d go on. Mortal lives may be short, but immortality sometimes wasn’t always a blessing. A long, endless life without Zagreus seemed as bleak as it was hopeless.
Thanatos leaned over in his chair and placed his forehead against Zag’s. What little warmth he had seeped into the soulless body beneath. He closed his eyes and whispered, “Time to wake up. Will you? If not for yourself, then for your mother. For me. I’m frightfully tired, but you know I can’t sleep until you’ve returned.”
But Zag did not move. He did not turn in his sleep, did not take even a breath.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Thanatos closed his eyes. “Zagreus, where are you? I promise I won’t interfere, so please-”
He broke off, feeling a sudden pull on his person. He sat up in his chair and focused on the nagging sensation. It almost felt like a soul calling for him to be reaped, but instead of a gentle nudge, it was an insistent pulling. More firm, more alive.
“Ah.” Thanatos let out a small exclamation as he remembered why the sensation felt vaguely familiar. It’d been so long since a mortal invoked his name; he’d almost forgotten what it was like. How rare and daring for a mortal to try and summon him. Didn’t they fear gaining his attention? He could ignore it, but the pull was like an annoying gnat buzzing around in his head.
Sighing, Thanatos stood up. He needed to leave for the surface and begin his search anyway; might as well pay the human a visit. Perhaps if he gave them enough of a fright, they would be more cautious next time they decided to summon a god. He may not have the prestige of the Olympians, but he was a primordial entity, older than even Zeus. If the mortals think he would be at their beck and call, then it was best he reminded them why they should fear him.
“Goodbye for now.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on Zagreus’ forehead. A strand of stray hair fell over the prince’s face and Thanatos gently brushed it aside, his fingers sliding down to linger on Zagreus’ cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
In his mind, he focused on the call. He shifted, using the call as his focal point. With a burst of green, ghostly light, he appeared in the center of a run down hut. Thanatos glanced around, noticing the hole in the wooden walls, the dirt ground. It wasn’t a noble born that summoned him, but a peasant. But all mortals were the same, whether they were wealthy or poor. Those that invoked his name only ever wanted one thing from him.
“Rare is it for a mortal to summon me.” Thanatos found the human that called him. He was huddled on the ground, kneeling, his head touching the floor. His hands were raised, offering a chalice full of human blood. His blood from the look of the bloody bandage wrapped around his hand.
Thanatos floated closer. The moonlight snuck between the cracks of the wooden wall and illuminated the room. Thanatos stared down at the bowed head, noticing the mop of messy, dark hair. A swathe of clean bandage covered the right side of his face. “Speak, what is that you want?” Thanatos’ voice boomed through the little hut. The air of dread he carried with him, he allowed it to spread and increase in pressure. Beads of sweat dotted the back of the mortal’s neck and he began to tremble. Good. “Did you want to bring someone you love back to life? Or did you want me to spare someone from their Fate?”
The mortal audibly swallowed. Thanatos allowed him a moment to gather his wits and words. It wasn’t everyday humans interacted with gods after all. Even if they called, if they didn’t have any divine blood or blessing, the gods never heard them. Which made Than curious about this human. Was he another one of Zeus’ bastard sons? Dressed in rags and hunched over as he was, he was but a small thing. Young by the looks of it too. If Than had to guess, the mortal had only passed his second decade. Though scrawny, he didn’t look to be starving, and glancing around the meager home, it didn’t seem as if another person lived with him.
“O’ Death, God Thanatos, I-I only have a humble request,” the mortal finally found his courage and spoke. “All I ask is that you accept this chalice.”
Than furrowed his brows, not because the request was odd- which it was- but there was something about the human’s voice. “You want me to accept your offering? Drink your chalice?”
The man nodded.
Thanatos struck an arm straight from his body and summoned his scythe. With deft movement, he swung the scythe until it barely missed the youth’s chin. “Lift your head.” He nudged the young man’s chin with the cold edge of his scythe. “Do you mortals take me for a fool? Has the legend of Sisyphus, that knave king, slandered my reputation? I am the incarnation of Death and I’m not to be trifled with. What are you hiding? What have you done with the chalice?”
“No!” The man jerked his head up. “Nothing! I-I only ask for your blessing because I hope to challenge for the princess’ hand tomorrow and I may die. I hope that you could look after me.”
The young man stared at him fearfully, and Thanatos saw his image reflected in the uncovered eye. It was the color of brilliant green, the color of spring and life. His scythe fell to the floor with a clang before it dematerialized. There were only two individuals he knew that had such vibrant green colored eyes. Persephone and…
“Zagreus?”