#eternium

You breathed a sigh of relief as you headed towards one of the tables, passing over platters of fruit and meat and instead pouring yourself a well-deserved glass of wine. You hadn’t expected Ares to look so innocent: wide, round eyes like a sky full of stars, his smile deceptively sweet. Until he unleashed an emphatic yet grateful tirade as soon as he’d gotten near you. He expressed an intense passion for the potential war that brewed between the gods because of you. Passion only overshadowed by his brazen flirting. You’d only managed to distract him by sending him towards a pair of former soldier spirits you knew loved to talk about their glory days and hurrying away as soon as they’d grasped his attention.

“Perse, either you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever met, or the most oblivious.” Taehyung sidled up next to you, taking the glass from your hands and downing your drink before you’d even taken a sip. Before you could protest, you heard another voice speak up from your other side.

“Don’t encourage her, Tae. You do remember whose domain you’ll spend eternity in after death, right?”

Jeongyeon’s hands were already fussing with fixing stray strands of your hair woven between the gold and gem-dotted tines of your crown, always more stylist than lady-in-waiting.

“What are you two saying?” You gestured around the hall. “Isn’t the point of this whole show for me to get to know his family? I need to speak to them at least a little.”

Taehyung tilted the already empty glass he’d stolen from you in your direction. “With that dress on, nothing you do tonight is just talking.”

You pointed a thumb in Jeongyeon’s direction. “And who dresses me, exactly?”

Tonight she had dressed you in wine red, the billowing layers of your gown embroidered in gold flowers and threaded patterns that complimented your every curve. Her choices had always left you feeling regal, as false as your title may have been, but tonight she had outdone herself. You felt like a god among gods. And it seemed that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Jeongyeon’s responding tone was all business. “That dress is for His Majesty. Only him.”

Taehyung’s smile went broad. “I get the feeling that’s exactly what he wishes.”

Well, at least you weren’t the only one to notice the eyes that had been following you all evening. You raised a hand to cup Taehyung’s cheek, warm, yet a little more hollow than you remembered. He had lost most of his glow over the past six months in the underworld with you, more specter than demigod. And though it wasn’t your fault, you felt responsible nonetheless.

“Out of your head, little queen,” he admonished. “I’m fine. I drank your disgusting, witchy brew, there’s life in me still. You can go fuck your king in peace.”

You chuckled at his usual vulgarity, but the sadness you couldn’t hold back still seeped through. “There’s only a week left.”

“And tonight’s not the night to worry about it. Trust me. Besides, I’ve built up a pretty good fan club since we got here. Worst comes to worst, I think I’ll be just fine. Just make sure I get one of those cushy jobs after death,” he finished with a wink, refilling your stolen glass and lifting it to his lips again. But something beyond your shoulder stopped him before he could take another sip.

“Trouble incoming.”

Taehyung’s hushed warning brought the rest of the room back into focus. After a slurred and uncomfortable flirtation from Dionysus, a thoughtful sizing up from Athena, and steering Taehyung safely away during a strange triangle of loathing between Hephaestus and Ares centered around your friend’s presence, you’d hardly had a moment of peace since the evening began. And of course, the spark of a certain god’s eyes had been haunting you since the celebration began, leaving you in the wake of carnal memories. Now the monarchs of Olympus were approaching. You pulled your glass back from Taehyung and took a long drink, attempting to steel yourself in preparation. Fucking a god was one thing. Being fucked over by gods was an entirely different event you’d prefer to avoid.

You turned to face the pair, conjuring up the last dregs of your hospitality, but Taehyung stepped away from the table of refreshments first, bowing the soft blond waves at his head low in reception and flashing the very enchanting smile that had gotten him into this mess with you in the first place.

“Ah, Aphrodite’s degenerate demigod,” Hera --- addressed by most in his family as Seokjin --- said in a sweet voice heavy with venom. “Have you been adopted by my brother as a playmate for Cerberus then? Meant to play lapdog at his bride’s feet until your mother wins her bargains for your life?”

“Jin,” Namjoon --- known to most in the surface world by his deity title, Zeus --- stroked Seokjin’s cheek in an attempt to mollify. “Come now, beloved. We’re here to celebrate.” His gaze drifted toward you and you felt the weight of it instantly, eons of wisdom and unfathomable power contained behind that gaze. But there was something gentle there too that nagged at the back of your neck, something faintly familial.

You followed Taehyung’s earlier cue, bowing before the two gods. “Majesties, an honor.”

“So she does speak,” Jin huffed. “I see living in the underworld has not yet driven you to madness. I worried so when we left you here all those months ago, poor, trembling little thing that you were.”

You offered another shallow bow of your head. “What mortal in the presence of two rulers of the three realms would not tremble, Majesty?” You didn’t have to look up to hear Jin grit his teeth at the slight, given that he was not counted among those three. “I’m happy I’m able to assuage your worries now.”

“Perse is in the perfect place, queenie,” Taehyung goaded. “And how fitting is it that Thanatos’ protege should end up by the ruler of the underworld’s side? It’s…poetic.” Taehyung lifted his glass appreciatively, as if to honor you with a toast. His smug smile was unabashed and you almost felt a pang of pride even while you wondered if he really would be leaving this place with his life. The young demigod had gotten even bolder during his months in the underworld, though you supposed his recklessness with his own life was the reason Thanatos had marked him as your next target in the first place.

Seokjin scoffed, crossing his arms in regal defiance. Firmly ignoring Taehyung’s input, Seokjin continued to eye you up. “Strange that no one has claimed you yet. I’d heard rumors that you were a demigod, but perhaps you’re only the daughter of a nymph? A siren?” His eyes flicked to the flowing skirt of your gown. “A satyr, maybe?”

Of course, Seokjin’s goal was to get a rise out of you with his condescension. He had made it clear that he considered you an unfit match for his brother, though you still had no idea why he’d forced this marriage on you if he felt that way. Unfortunately for him, you were unruffled; a conditioned survival tactic, nothing more. You’d spent too many years playing the quiet observer, learning to read people, finding a reserved touch more effective as you approached life’s challenges, and knowing when it was time to escape. And what you’d learned so far was that most of the gods didn’t want to acknowledge that they were hardly different from the rest of you mere mortals.

“I’m afraid you’ll find me only human, Your Majesty,” you replied calmly.

Namjoon’s eyes softened at that, something akin to pity crossing his features.

“A shame,” he said softly, gaze drifting to somewhere beyond your shoulder. “If only a drop of immortality to keep you by my brother’s side.”

At last, you felt the familiar pressing sensation of your hunter’s aura as he finally made his approach.

“Hoseok,” Namjoon said, barely hiding an amused smirk. “What an honor; we were just talking about you. I feel as though I hardly ever see your face, even here in your own palace.”

You raised your eyes as he came to stand beside you, aching at the sight of his perfect profile, jawline carved from the finest marble, the pretty, upturned slope of his nose, the soft waves of his long, dark hair impeccably pinned back behind his ears and disappearing down his back. He gave Namjoon a short nod, Seokjin another.

“I trust you’re both ensuring my bride feels welcome to our family.”

It was the point of this get-together after all, to introduce you to the rest of the gods you would officially call family in only a week’s time. That is, unless Hoseok could find a last-minute way out of Hera’s order. You glanced up at him again, shuddering when you found his gaze fixed on you. Part of you wished you hadn’t. Then you wouldn’t have seen the burning fire in the glow of his ashen stare, an intensity that you still felt far from deserving. The presence, the power of a god, directed solely at you. Every time he gave you that look, doubt rang somewhere inside your chest over whether you even wanted him to find a way out of this marriage anymore.

“Dear brother, we’re simply lamenting your bride-to-be’s mortality is all,” Hera said wistfully.

“You let me worry about that, Jin.” Hoseok’s words struck out like a fiery whip and the others fell silent. Would it always be this way, you wondered, the very gods forcing the two of you together bitter that a human like you would be a part of their family line, however briefly?

Hoseok’s hand flexed at his side, reaching toward you before pulling back as though he wanted to take your hand in his, but he was forcing himself to fight the instinct. You could sense his anxiety, the sharper reactions he quelled just underneath. It startled you. That you’d come to know his cues this well in these few short months when in the beginning he would barely look at you. You slid your hand into his, twining your fingers together and glancing up at him with a reassuring smile.

“Welp, this is super awkward so I’m going to find out if Dionysus has found anything stronger to drink yet,” Taehyung said. “Later kings n’ queens.”

You giggled silently to yourself, biting your lip to keep your laughter contained. Hoseok squeezed your hand and you caught the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

“Yes, well,” Hoseok said, clearing his throat. “I need to borrow my bride for a few moments if you don’t mind. Please enjoy yourselves.” As his hand met your back and he began to lead you away, you heard Namjoon speaking softly behind you.

“Perhaps there is a chance after all,” he said quietly.

“Perhaps,” Seokjin followed up ominously.

“Then why not stop this…”

It was all you could make out before Hoseok had maneuvered you out of earshot, across the ballroom floor. He pulled you behind a pillar at the room’s edge, hiding you both from most prying eyes.

“I’m sorry about them,” Hoseok muttered. “They act that way because of me; it’s nothing to do with you.”

“They haven’t all been unkind,” you said deliberately, savoring the shadowed grimace that crossed his face in response.

“Yes, I noticed that as well,” he said, voice quieter yet more fierce.

You knew he had. You’d seen him from the corner of your eye, teeth gritting, fists clenched while Apollo made leering pass after pass at you. Had watched Thanatos appear at Hoseok’s side while Pan whispered in your ear about his prowess with the flute. Somehow Thanatos managed to stay Hoseok’s approach while you attempted to stand on your own against the gods and deities surrounding you.

“You know, it’s a little odd that all your family knows we’re technically married and yet…”

Hoseok groaned softly. “Yes. It’s unfortunately a common problem.”

Even though you shouldn’t have, you let a small, playful smile slip through and Hoseok responded with a hum of dissatisfaction. The hand at your low back slid further around you, pulling your body fully against the warmth of his, and you understood that the night could only end with him between your legs. You may have been standing off to the side of the ballroom, but there was nowhere around you that could be considered secluded. This public display of his intentions was so out of his normally publicly reserved character, you inhaled a short, sharp breath in surprise.

“You tease this out of me on purpose, this…this…jealousy,” he rasped into your ear before lowering his head to brush the softest kiss against the side of your neck. A slow, embarrassed heat began to climb your throat at his admission. Jealousy. The god of the underworld was jealous because of you. You lifted your hand to Hoseok’s cheek, partly to remind him of his surroundings and partly to steady yourself against the battering of your heart inside your chest. 

“Husband,” you said quietly, ignoring just how much you had grown to enjoy the taste of the word on your lips.

“Wife,” he responded in a hot, throaty growl that flew straight between your legs. “I’m still not convinced your father wasn’t an incubus. Or one of Eros’ ilk perhaps? What else could explain this thing you do to me?” Hoseok pulled you a little closer, hand at your waist joined by his other against the skin of your back, bared by the low cut of your gown. His warm, sweet breath ghosted against your neck as his lips met your flesh again. You had to take a shaky breath before responding.

“Even if I knew, I don’t think I’d have any power over you.” His lips continued without so much as a pause. “Darling, are you nectar-drunk? It’s not like you to be this affectionate with such a captive audience nearby.”

He leaned up then, making sure your eyes met his. “I’ve been staring at you half the night in this dress and wanting to rip it off of you with my teeth,” he said quietly. You were pretty sure the baring of his teeth was subconscious, but the effect was deliciously threatening all the same. “And your body language suggests you’ve had more than enough of my family for one evening. One thousand evenings perhaps.”

You smirked. Of course. Of course he had seen straight through your well-practiced confidence. “An expert in my body language now, are you?”

Hoseok lifted his head and returned your suggestive expression, though his was tinged with something wild. “We’re going to leave so I can prove to you that I am.”

“Leave? Aren’t you going to at least ask me to dance?”

You could only describe his responding smile as wicked. “Of a sort.”

You held up your hands, gesturing to the lavishly decorated celebration hall, all fine decor, ghostly servers, music and dancers brought together under his rare invitation.

“Hades, we can’t leave,” you said, using his deity title with the hope it might remind him of his propriety. “The whole point of this gathering is for me to get comfortable being a part of your family and-”

“I don’t care,” he said, pulling you closer still, voice a knife’s edge at your throat. “I don’t care about them. All I care about is you.”

You had spent the last six months in the Underworld at his side, learning his moods, his strengths and weaknesses. His deceiving scent, like sun-ripened citrus, fresh woods, and ever-burning embers. The particular incense of his heat, the brand of his touch. Had spent just enough time on the receiving end of his passion to constantly crave more. By now you accepted that, when he was like this, it was pointless to argue.

The first time you’d had sex had been a flurry. One moment dancing underneath pomegranate trees at the Lethe riverbank, the next filling the eternal silverdark sky with your whimpering moans as Hoseok rutted into you, growling your name into your ear, uncoiling tension that had been tightening between you both for weeks. Afterward, you’d found crushed petals in places one never should, and you’d had to face questions you’d never before let yourself consider: Could you really stay here in the underworld? Could you become Hoseok’s human queen? And were the feelings you’d been trying so hard to ignore all these months really something akin to love?

He began to steer you toward the ballroom doors, but you angled yourself in front of him, a firm hand pressed against his chest. A line of impatience ran across his forehead as he stopped, eyebrows knotting in question.

“One dance.”

He huffed. “Don’t let my family get to you, Y/N. We don’t need a dance to prove anything to anyone here.”

“I know. I don’t care about them either.” Hoseok may have been the god of the underworld and you were ninety-nine percent sure you were only human. Banking on Hoseok’s belief in the one percent that some measure of godsblood also coursed through your own veins, you stepped closer and pressed against his aura with your own. “I want to dance with you. And if you simply can’t wait to kiss me, you can do it with everyone here watching.” After all, you weren’t the shy one. To punctuate your thought, Hoseok’s cheeks turned a dusky rose in response to your words. As exhilarating as sex was with him, the thought that he could be this modest was so enchanting you almost wanted to drag him down to the floor and have him right there. But you wanted to dance with him more, to watch the joyful light that he so rarely let free come out for all to see.

He stared at you for a long moment, prodding with his intimidating aura for any sign that you might waver under his will. Then you watched his shoulders relax slightly, watched him give an apprehensive glance back at the dancing crowd and then back to you.