multimuse.

THE WITCH

the moment mantis pushed his hands away and told him not to touch her, it felt as though something inside him had finally shattered. not suddenly, not violently. the break had begun long ago. perhaps the first crack had appeared the first time she refused one of his visists. perhaps it had been there every time she smiled a little less when he returned. every time her gaze lingered on him with questions she never voiced aloud. hades had felt the distance growing between them, had noticed it in fragments, but he had never understood what he was truly watching like so many tragedies, it had happened slowly enough to go unnoticed until there was nothing left to save.

now, standing before her, he finally understood. and he wished he did not. for a moment he simply stared at her, unable to move. the pain in her voice lingered inside him like a blade driven between old scars, reopening wounds he had spent centuries convincing himself no longer existed. it reminded him of things he preferred not to remember. the darkness that had once threatened to consume him. the cruelty of his father, the endless loneliness that had followed him long before he became king. yet somehow this hurt more.

because this was mantis, and mantis had always reached for him when nobody else would. his gaze lowered briefly, unable to withstand the sight of her tears for long. the realization settled heavily inside his chest as memories began rearranging themselves into something he could finally understand. the distance, the hesitation. the way she seemed to disappear further away each time he returned from the underworld. while persephone had become more familiar, more present, more difficult to ignore.

the truth had been there all along, mantis had simply seen it before he had. persephone had entered his life quietly, slipping between the cracks of his kingdom like spring sunlight forcing its way through stone. at first he had welcomed it without thought. the scent of lilacs lingering where only death should exist. warmth settling into halls that had known only silence. small moments of peace appearing within a realm built from grief. hades had allowed those things because they soothed parts of him he had long since stopped trying to heal.

and perhaps that was where everything began, not with love or desire. but with relief. the terrible relief of discovering that the noise inside his mind could become quieter. that the weight of eternity could become lighter, that for a few fleeting moments he could forget he was the ruler of the dead. yet none of it had been enough to make him stop loving mantis, that was the cruel part. even now, with persephone lingering somewhere inside his thoughts, with guilt twisting around his ribs so tightly it became difficult to breathe, the woman standing before him was still the person he loved most. the person whose laughter had once made the underworld seem less empty, the one he had chosen again and again despite every obstacle zeus had placed between them.

and somehow that only made all of this worse. ❝ mantis. ❞ her name left his lips unevenly, breaking apart before he could stop it. there was no authority left in his voice. no trace of the king who commanded souls and shadows. only a man watching the person he loved look at him as though he had become a stranger. ❝ i never meant for this to happen. ❞ the words sounded hollow even to him. because intentions no longer mattered. pain did not disappear simply because it had not been deliberate.

hades took a step toward her instinctively, driven by the same need that had always existed whenever she was hurting. he wanted to hold her. to wipe away her tears. to tell her that none of this changed what she meant to him. but the moment his foot touched the ground, he remembered the way she had recoiled from his touch, so he stopped. then stepped back instead, the movement felt unnatural, agonizing. as though he were forcing himself to walk away from the only warmth he had ever truly known.

his crimson gaze found hers again, and whatever strenght remained inside him nearly failed. because he recognized the look in her eyes, not anger or jealousy, heartbreak. the kind that arrived long before a relationship ended. the kind that formed quietly while watching someone drift away one piece at a time. she had been grieving him while he was still standing beside her. pain flickered openly across his features now, too deep to conceal beneath pride or composure. for once, he did not attempt to hide it. ❝ you are not bad, you never were. ❞

his voice softened further as he spoke, weighed down by a sorrow so old it seemed woven into his soul. ❝ you were never lacking. never dificult to love. never something that needed fixing. ❞ a bitter ache settled in his chest as he looked at her. because somewhere along the way she had begun comparing herself to a woman she could never become. a woman zeus had deliberately placed in his path. a woman born from a world mantis was never allowed to enter. and none of that had been fair.

❝ do you want me gone ? ❞ it was not fear of rejection that frightened him, it was the possibility that she would say yes and mean it. that she would finally decide she could no longer survive loving him. his hands remained motionless at his sides, empty and harmless. ❝ i will not touch you, i will not force you to stay. i will not ask you to forgive me. ❞ for a long moment, silence settled between them.

when he finally spoke again, his voice carried the exhaustion of a man who had spent centuries fighting fate only to discover that some battles were unwinnable. ❝ but if every time you look at me, you see her ... ❞ his throat tightened around the words. ❝ then perhaps i have already hurt you in ways i do not know how to repair. ❞ for the firt time in a very long time, hades looked less like a god and more like a man standing in the ruins of something precious, realizing far too late that love alone had not been enough to protect it.

«  gone?  »  she  repeated,  very  softly,  like  the  word  did  not  fit  inside  her  mouth.  «  no.  no,  i  do  not  want  you  gone.  please,  i  will  behave.  i  will  be  good,  i  promise.  »  the  panic  came  back  quickly  then,  not  sharp  like  before,  but  desperate,  wounded,  clumsy.  she  shook  her  head  once,  then  again,  too  fast,  her  breath  catching  in  little  broken  pieces.  «  why  would  you  go?  i  did  not  say  go.  i  said  do  not  touch  me.  that  is  different.  it  is  different,  hades.  »  her  hands  pressed  tighter  against  her  chest,  fingers  digging  into  the  fabric  there  as  if  she  could  push  the  ache  back  down  by  force.  «  i  want  you  here.  i  want  you  to  stay  here.  i  just...  i  want  it  to  stop  hurting  when  you  are  here.  »

because  she  did  not  understand  what  else  to  call  it.  hades  had  taught  her  many  things  about  this  world,  about  gods  and  rules  and  the  underworld  and  all  the  strange  little  ways  people  made  themselves  cruel  when  they  were  afraid,  but  he  had  never  taught  her  what  heartbreak  was.  perhaps  he  should  have.  perhaps,  if  he  had  given  the  pain  a  name  before  it  found  her,  she  would  have  known  what  was  happening  when  her  chest  began  to  feel  too  small  for  her  heart.  perhaps  she  would  have  understood  why  loving  him  still  felt  the  same,  so  big  and  warm  and  helpless  inside  her,  while  something  else  inside  that  love  kept  tearing.  or  perhaps  it  was  kinder  that  she  did  not  know.  perhaps  knowing  would  have  made  it  worse.  perhaps  she  should  have  been  disappointed.  angry.  insulted.  perhaps  she  should  have  understood  that  this  was  something  people  left  over,  something  they  screamed  over,  something  they  did  not  apologise  for  feeling.

but  mantis  did  not  know  how  to  put  those  pieces  together.  she  only  knew  that  she  loved  him  more  than  anything,  and  that  loving  him  had  started  to  hurt  so  badly  she  could  not  breathe  through  it.  she  only  knew  that  when  he  looked  at  her,  she  wanted  to  go  to  him,  and  when  he  touched  her,  she  wanted  to  crawl  out  of  her  own  skin.  she  only  knew  there  was  something  wrong  inside  her  chest,  something  splitting  and  twisting  and  making  her  feel  sick,  and  she  had  no  word  for  it.  how  was  she  supposed  to  understand  that  her  heart  was  being  ripped  apart  when  no  one  had  ever  told  her  a  heart  could  break?

and  that  was  the  part  she  did  not  understand.  that  was  the  part  that  frightened  her  more  than  his  hand  around  her  wrist,  more  than  persephone  in  his  thoughts,  more  than  the  ugly  sound  of  her  own  voice  when  she  had  screamed  at  him.  hades  had  always  been  warm  to  her.  not  warm  like  fire,  not  warm  like  sunlight,  but  warm  in  that  quiet,  strange  place  beneath  the  ribs  where  feelings  lived  before  they  became  words.  when  she  touched  him  before,  there  had  been  softness.  there  had  been  happiness.  sometimes  sadness  too,  yes,  and  old  things,  dark  things,  but  never  this.  never  something  that  pushed  into  her  lungs  until  she  could  not  breathe.  never  something  that  made  her  skin  feel  too  tight  for  her  body.  never  something  that  sat  in  her  chest  like  a  stone  and  spread,  and  spread,  and  spread.

«  i  think  something  is  wrong  with  me,  i  tried  to  see  a  doctor  but  he  does  not  know  how  to  treat  me.  i  am  not  human.  humans  dont  feel  others  feelings.  but  i  am  sure  something  is  wrong.  if  petere  were  here,  he  would  know.  he  would  know  what  is  wrong  with  me.  but  he  is  not  here,  he  is  gone.  »  she  whispered,  and  her  face  crumpled  around  the  thought  of  her  brother,  oh  how  she  missed  the  guardias,  but  the  thought  about  them  was  curel,  did  it  bring  only  more  pain  to  her  already  torn  heart.  she  had  been  seeking  help  because  she  believed  it.  of  course  she  believed  it.  if  love  hurt,  then  surely  she  had  done  something  incorrectly.  but  the  truth  was,  she  was  not  made  for  this  world.  she  was  not  from  earth.  she  did  not  belong  here.  especially  not  in  his  realm.  pain  was  not  something  her  body  was  meant  to  endure.  if  his  happiness  made  her  feel  like  she  was  being  split  open,  then  maybe  she  was  too  small  for  it,  too  selfish,  too  broken  in  some  place  she  could  not  see.  «  i  think  i  am  sick.  that's  it.  i  do  not  know  where.  here,  maybe.  »  she  touched  the  middle  of  her  chest  with  shaking  fingers,  then  pressed  there  harder  when  it  did  not  help.  «  it  gets  tight.  so  tight.  like  someone  is  sitting  inside  me  and  there  is  no  room.  and  then  my  throat  closes,  and  my  eyes  hurt,  and  my  stomach  feels  wrong,  and  i  do  not  know  what  to  do  with  all  of  it.»

she  had  left  everything  for  him.  not  in  the  way  people  said  it  when  they  wanted  to  sound  tragic,  not  as  a  pretty  little  wound  to  hold  over  someone’s  head,  but  truly.  her  friends,  her  family,  the  only  people  who  had  ever  known  what  she  was  without  needing  her  to  explain  it,  they  could  have  been  anywhere  by  now.  somewhere  across  the  galaxy,  laughing,  fighting,  saving  worlds,  getting  lost  between  stars  without  her.  and  mantis  was  here,  on  a  planet  that  had  never  been  kind  to  soft  things,  among  humans  and  gods  who  hurt  each  other  and  called  it  fate,  duty,  love,  punishment,  prophecy,  every  name  except  cruelty.  she  had  not  been  made  for  this  place.  she  had  not  been  made  for  sharp  words,  for  jealous  gods,  for  rooms  where  love  turned  into  something  that  cut  when  touched.  she  had  not  been  made  to  suffer  pain  like  this,  but  she  did.  and  if  she  left  him,  where  would  she  go?  back  to  what?  to  who?  the  life  she  had  walked  away  from  had  not  waited  politely  in  one  place  for  her  to  return.

her  gaze  flickered  to  his  hands,  then  away  again,  terrified  and  ashamed  of  being  terrified.  «  i  used  to  like  when  you  touched  me.  i  liked  it  very  much.  »  the  admission  came  out  smaller  than  the  rest,  soft  and  broken  in  a  way  that  made  the  words  feel  almost  embarrassed  to  exist.  «  it  was  quiet  then.  even  when  you  were  sad,  even  when  you  were  angry,  even  when  you  carried  all  those  heavy  things,  it  was  still  you.  i  could  find  you  inside  it.  i  could  sit  there  with  you.  but  now  when  you  touch  me,  it  is  not  quiet  anymore.  it  is  loud.  everything  is  loud.  your  hand  is  there,  and  then  she  is  there,  and  then  your  guilt  is  there,  and  your  wanting  is  there,  and  your  sorry  is  there,  and  i  cannot  find  where  i  am  supposed  to  stand.  »

she  swallowed  hard,  but  the  tears  still  came,  spilling  over  too  quickly  for  her  to  wipe  them  away.  «  i  tried  to  be  good,  »  she  said,  and  there  it  was  again,  that  small  horrible  thing  she  had  taught  herself  to  believe.  «  i  tried  to  behave.  i  tried  not  to  make  my  face  sad  when  you  came  back  happy.  i  tried  not  to  move  away  too  fast.  i  tried  not  to  feel  angry  because  angry  is  bad,  and  i  do  not  want  to  be  bad  to  you.  i  do  not  want  to  put  my  hurt  on  you  just  because  you  have  something  bright  in  your  head.»  her  voice  shook,  but  it  kept  going,  because  now  that  the  words  had  started,  she  did  not  know  how  to  stop  them.  «but  i  do  not  like  it.  i  do  not  like  when  it  hurts.  i  do  not  like  when  my  chest  gets  small.  i  do  not  like  when  i  cannot  breathe.  i  do  not  like  feeling  her  when  i  am  trying  to  feel  you.»

for  a  moment,  she  looked  down  at  herself  like  she  expected  to  see  the  damage  there,  something  visible,  something  bleeding,  something  he  could  fix  because  hades  knew  so  many  things  and  surely  he  would  know  what  to  do  if  she  could  only  show  him  where  it  was.  but  there  was  nothing.  only  her  own  body  trembling  beneath  her  hands,  only  the  horrible  invisible  ache  that  would  not  loosen.  «is  this  what  happens  when  people  love  wrong?»  she  asked,  voice  barely  more  than  a  whisper  now.  «does  it  start  hurting  because  i  am  doing  it  wrong?  because  i  do  not  know  how  to  love  someone  if  they  are  happy  somewhere  else.  i  do  not  know  where  to  put  that.  i  do  not  know  how  to  be  happy  for  you  without  it  making  me  feel  like  i  am  disappearing.  »

she  took  one  small  step  towards  him,  then  stopped  herself  at  once,  her  whole  body  flinching  at  the  want  before  it  could  become  movement.  because  she  did  want  him.  gods,  she  wanted  him,  with  that  same  simple,  helpless  devotion  she  had  never  known  how  to  hide.  but  wanting  him  and  touching  him  had  become  two  different  things  now,  and  the  realisation  seemed  to  frighten  her  all  over  again.  «  i  do  not  want  you  gone,  »  she  said  again,  firmer  this  time,  though  her  voice  still  shook  apart  around  the  edges.  «i  want  you  close.  i  want  you  here.  i  want  you  to  look  at  me  and  not  think  about  her.  i  want  you  to  touch  me  and  for  it  to  be  quiet  again.»  her  lips  trembled,  and  she  pressed  her  hand  over  them  for  a  second,  as  if  she  could  stop  herself  from  sounding  so  broken.  «but  please  do  not  touch  me  if  she  is  there.  please.  i  cannot  feel  her  through  you  anymore.  it  hurts  too  much.  »

then,  as  if  the  thought  had  only  just  reached  her  properly,  mantis  shook  her  head  again,  faster  this  time,  panic  flickering  back  into  her  eyes.  « but  not  gone,»  she  said  quickly,  almost  stumbling  over  the  words.  «  i  do  not  want  you  gone.  please  do  not  think  that.  please  do  not  go  away  because  i  am...  like  this.  »

her  hands  pressed  against  her  chest  again,  small  fingers  curling  into  the  fabric,  as  if  she  could  hold  the  broken  part  still  until  someone  told  her  what  it  was.  «  i  think  i  need  a  doctor,  »  she  whispered,  and  the  innocence  of  it  made  the  words  worse,  because  she  meant  it.  because  she  truly  thought  there  was  some  sickness  inside  her  that  could  be  named,  touched,  fixed.  «  or  someone  who  knows  why  it  hurts  here.  because  it  is  my  fault.  i  know  it  is  my  fault.  you  said  i  am  not  bad,  but  maybe  i  am  not  doing  it  right.  maybe  i  am  feeling  it  wrong.  »

maybe it was one of us. come on.

get off me gaywad!

i'm just not gonna freak out.

they were doing weird cult shit in the woods.

i really think you need to talk to them.

don't shut me out.

fսck it. you want to just get a pizza and a quart of fudge ripple? we can eat it on the roof.

i literally just told you to go fuck yourself, and you're asking me out?

[name], have you been chronic smoking?

you knew.

i was just decoy, biyatch.

do be quick, every minute away from you is torture.

they worked for 12 days and nights to feed the very fire that destroyed their home.

you can't… you can't just doordash human entrails.

what the fuck, [name]?

i know he doesn't want to talk to me, but if you could just put him on for one second.

you know, it's okay to be angry about what happened to [name].

handy lesbians for the win.

i deeply appreciate it, my queen.

i know it's disgusting but i think we should start eating more of it.

loser says what?

are you asking me if i want to go or telling me i have to?

give it to me!

please, come stay in my room.

we call to [name]. now with the wilderness, guide us.

they've just returned to a place that waits for all of us.

after everything that's happened, you're worried about the dishes?

did you just say chronic?

the reality was that even if rescue came, they could never go home again.

i've scouted every inch of this place for miles.

how's this story for you? once upon a time, a bunch of teenage girls got stranded in the wilderness and they went completely fսcking nuts.

happy? that way, when i flatline, everyone will know they can go to lunch.

if you're up for it? i feel like we could both stand to get out of this house.

that's backwards, moron.

can't believe we didn't eat that bitch first.

my best friend is dead.

if i died tomorrow, what would people say at my funeral?

oh, what is even happening right now?

yeah, it's a miracle she survived… before, you know, we survived.

i deeply appreciate it, my queen.

have you seen anything while you're out there?

before we get started, congratulations to the winners of capture the bone, a name i still think we should consider workshopping further.

handy lesbians for the win.

like, sorry i'm not psyched to hear some bullshit story about our adventures in the woods.

fuck, just run.

i've fucking had it with this shit!

the fact that you even think i would is insulting.

i know someone smokes in here. who's got a lighter?

this is insane. we're not doing this anymore.

i just... wanted to teach them a lesson.

maybe it was one of us. come on.

get off me gaywad!

i'm just not gonna freak out.

they were doing weird cult shit in the woods.

i really think you need to talk to them.

don't shut me out.

fսck it. you want to just get a pizza and a quart of fudge ripple? we can eat it on the roof.

i literally just told you to go fuck yourself, and you're asking me out?

[name], have you been chronic smoking?

you knew.

i was just decoy, biyatch.

do be quick, every minute away from you is torture.

they worked for 12 days and nights to feed the very fire that destroyed their home.

you can't… you can't just doordash human entrails.

what the fuck, [name]?

i know he doesn't want to talk to me, but if you could just put him on for one second.

you know, it's okay to be angry about what happened to [name].

handy lesbians for the win.

i deeply appreciate it, my queen.

i know it's disgusting but i think we should start eating more of it.

loser says what?

are you asking me if i want to go or telling me i have to?

give it to me!

please, come stay in my room.

we call to [name]. now with the wilderness, guide us.

they've just returned to a place that waits for all of us.

after everything that's happened, you're worried about the dishes?

did you just say chronic?

the reality was that even if rescue came, they could never go home again.

i've scouted every inch of this place for miles.

how's this story for you? once upon a time, a bunch of teenage girls got stranded in the wilderness and they went completely fսcking nuts.

happy? that way, when i flatline, everyone will know they can go to lunch.

if you're up for it? i feel like we could both stand to get out of this house.

that's backwards, moron.

can't believe we didn't eat that bitch first.

my best friend is dead.

if i died tomorrow, what would people say at my funeral?

oh, what is even happening right now?

yeah, it's a miracle she survived… before, you know, we survived.

i deeply appreciate it, my queen.

have you seen anything while you're out there?

before we get started, congratulations to the winners of capture the bone, a name i still think we should consider workshopping further.

handy lesbians for the win.

like, sorry i'm not psyched to hear some bullshit story about our adventures in the woods.

fuck, just run.

i've fucking had it with this shit!

the fact that you even think i would is insulting.

i know someone smokes in here. who's got a lighter?

this is insane. we're not doing this anymore.

i just... wanted to teach them a lesson.

she had trusted him once, she had followed him, listened to his voice when it whispered promises that felt too real to ignore. she had let herself believe in something beyond what she had been told to be, beyond what she had been allowed to want. and in doing so, she had destroyed everything she once believed in. but it had been her choice ... had it not ?

was that why they still blamed her, even now ? for the loss of paradise, for the fall, for the simple act of believing the devil and accepting what had been forbidden to her. as if she alone had carried the weight of that moment. as if she alone had reached for it. she should have surrendered. she should have kept her head down, obeyed, remained silent, untouched by curiosity or desire. that was what had been expected of her.

after all those years with adam, the blame, the cruelty, the way he had worn her down until she believed she was nothing. less than nothing. something to be shaped, to be used, to be broken quietly. and she had believed him, god ... how deeply she had believed him. until the day she didn't. until she had finally found the strength to leave him behind, to walk away from the life that had suffocated her for so long. she had told herself she would find something new. a purpose, a life that belonged to her.

but had she ever truly found it ? and now ... here he was again, lucifer. with another offer. lucifer and his offerings, they had never brought her anything good. never peace, never safety, never freedom in the way she had once hoped. only consequences she had carried long after he was gone. so why, why did she still want to say yes ? was it simply to make him stop ? to silence that voice that always seemed to know exactly where to press, exactly what to offer ?

or was it something deeper ? something inside her that still longed for what he represented ? ❝ and that is what you need isn't it ... to win ? ❞ her voice wavered slightly, her breath catching in her throat as she spoke. the words felt heavier than she intended, laced with a quiet understanding that made her chest tighten. she was just another piece on his game. another move. ❝ why not look for another victim for your evil plans ? ❞ there was resistance in her voice, an attempt to push back, to draw a line between them, but even as she spoke, it felt fragile. unsteady.

because when he turned away ... she followed. her body moved before her mind could stop it, her steps falling into place behind him as if pulled by something she could not name. as if there was something in him, in his presence, in his promises ... that still held a quiet, dangerous power over her. ❝ this is not me saying yes. ❞ the words came quickly, almost defensive, as if she needed to hear them more than he did. but even she knew they were a lie.

his  eyes  moved  over  her  face,  lucifer  noticed  too  much  for  that,  noticed  the  tremble  in  her  voice,  the  way  she  threw  words  like  stones  while  still  walking  after  him,  the  way  she  called  herself  victim  and  him  evil  because  perhaps  it  was  easier  than  admitting  there  had  been  a  part  of  her,  even  then,  that  had  wanted  the  door  opened. «  you  are  merely  walking  in  the  same  direction  as  me,  entirely  by  accident,  with  a  deeply  wounded  expression  and  a  very  dramatic  refusal  prepared  in  case  anyone  asks.  »  his  grin  widened,  shameless,  delighted.  «  honestly,  eve,  i  respect  the  commitment.  i mean it has been only what? hundreds of thousands of years? that is the level of pettiness i like. » 

yet  the  word  victim  stayed  there  between  them.  that  one  did  make  him  slow,  not  fully,  never  enough  to  let  her  think  she  had  caught  him,  but  enough  that  the  air  changed  around  him.  lucifer  did  not  wear  guilt  the  way  raphael  might  have  wanted  him  to,  folded  neatly  in  his  hands  and  confessed  with  lowered  eyes.  but  there  was  memory  there.  eden,  fruit,  choice,  punishment.  a  garden  built  like  a  cage  and  called  paradise  because  the  bars  had  flowers  on  them.

«  and  there  it  is,  »  he  murmured,  quieter  now,  though  the  smile  never  completely  left  him.  «  evil  plans.  victims.  terribly  flattering,  truly.  i  shall  have  to  write  it  down  before  michael  gets  the  chance  to  make  it  sound  boring.  » he  turned  more  fully  then,  walking  backwards  for  a  few  steps  as  if  even  escape  from  celestial  supervision  had  to  become  performance  in  his  hands.  «  but  no,  i  do  not  need  to  win.  »  his  head  tilted,  curls  falling  slightly  into  his  eyes,  that  bright,  dangerous  look  returning  like  a  match  catching  flame.  «  i  like  winning.  there  is  a  difference.  a  very  important  one,  actually.  winning  irritates  the  right  people.  winning  proves  a  point.  winning  makes  every  obedient  little  saint  with  their  hands  folded  and  their  eyes  lowered  remember  that  someone,  somewhere,  is  still  laughing  at  the  rules.  » then  his  gaze  fixed  on  her.  «  but  you  were  never  a  piece  on  my  board.  »

for  once,  there  was  no  flourish  to  it.  no  grand  gesture,  no  bow,  no  wicked  little  laugh  slipped  in  to  soften  the  edge.  the  words  landed  plainly,  which  somehow  made  them  worse  from  him.

«  adam  may  have  needed  you  to  be  one.  father  certainly  preferred  you  that  way.  silent,  useful,  grateful  for  the  shape  someone  else  carved  you  into.  but  me?  »  his  mouth  curved  again,  slower  this  time,  less  teasing  than  before.  «  i  offered  you  a  choice.  just like i offered lilith a choice. that  is  all  i  have  ever  done.  admittedly,  i  tend  to  make  choices  sound  far  more  entertaining  than  they  are,  but  still.  »

«  you  reached,  eve.  I  did  not  force  your  hand.  not  because  i  stole  your  will  and  tucked  it  into  my  coat  pocket.  you  reached  because  some  part  of  you  wanted  to  know  what  would  happen  if  the  world  was  larger  than  the  one  you  had  been  given.  and  they  hated  you  for  it  because  you  proved  their  design  was  not  perfect.  of  course  you  are  not,  that  is  my  job  obviously.  but  look  at  both  of  us,  fallen  from  grace  and  still,  we  are  thriving  no?  well  at  least  i  am.  you  on  the  otherhand...  well  »  his  smile  flickered,  way  too  proud  but  it  was  lucifer  morningstar  we  were  talking  about,  who  if  not  he  was  allowed  to  be  proud.

«  that  is  why  i  am  here.  to  help  you.  i  have  always  had  a  weakness  for  that  sort  of  thing.  for  the  less  fortunates.  to  help  where  i  can.  »  oh  dear  lord,  whatever  it  was  ringing  in  the  back  of  his  head,  it  would  not  end  good  for  anyone  but  himself. «  so  no,  darling,  this  is  not  you  saying  yes.  »  his  voice  lifted  again,  lighter,  warmer  with  mockery,  though  something  beneath  it  remained  too  awake  now  to  be  dismissed  entirely.  «  this  is  you  investigating.  questioning.  exercising  your  free  will  in  a  suspiciously  forward-moving  manner.  »  he  looked  back  at  her  once  more,  grin  returning  in  full,  beautiful  and  wicked  and  absolutely  impossible  to  trust.  «  and  if  anyone  asks,  i  kidnapped  you.  terribly  heroic  of  me,  really.  »

❝ is not as though i have a choice in the matter ... ❞ his words were calm, too calm. but never gentle, not when it came to the other olympians. it was not zeus alone, though perhaps he was the one most accustomed to hearing that tone. after all, he was the one who called upon hades in ways the god did not enjoy. he ... the one who became the private bank of olympus. and even if he had his own kingdom, his own realm and rules to abide by, there was still one he had to answer to, his brother.

❝ believe me, zeus, no one would believe that. after all, they know well enough why i would travel this far to stand by your side. if only out of obligation to the king of the gods. ❞ there was no bitterness in his tone. he did not envy his brother, he never did. many would assume otherwise, that the eldest son would resent the throne, would covet it. but he never had. nor did he envy zeus and the weight that crown placed upon one's shoulders. ❝ this is not what tries my patience. what tries my patience is the fact that you speak in riddles rather than getting to the point as to why we stand here. ❞

for a moment, hades found himself wondering what passed through his brother's mind. it seemed he was holding something back. had he spent so long among the dead, among shadows and silence, that he had failed to notice the changes in him ? had zeus changed so much ? crimson eyes flickered with something almost close to curiosity beneath their usual composed stillness. there was something different in the way his brother spoke now ... something unfamiliar. the king did not quite sound like one anymore.

❝ are you living through a middle-aged crisis, zeus ? ❞ the corner of the god's lips tilted slightly, something that might have passed for a smile. the sunlight kissed his pale skin, giving it an almost marble like sheen. ❝ what is happening ? speak plainly, once and for all. is this why you called upon my presence ? to speak of what we could or not choose ? of what he did when we were but young gods ? ❞

his tone remained calm as he came to a stop, arms crossing loosely over his chest, crimson gaze settling fully upon his brother. ❝ i have walked the rest of the world ... and i have found that i prefer the quiet of my realm. ❞

olympus  shone  behind  him,  all  marble  and  sun  and  worship  built  so  high  above  the  world  that  one  could  almost  forget  how  much  rot  collected  underneath  anything  left  unchallenged  for  too  long.  almost.  zeus  had  been  very  good  at  forgetting.  better  than  most.  better  than  any  king  should  be.  «  i  called  you  because  you  are  annoying,  unpleasant,  suspicious  by  nature,  and  impossible  to  flatter  into  stupidity.  »  he  looked  back  at  hades  then,  and  the  corner  of  his  mouth  twitched,  though  it  did  not  quite  become  the  easy  grin  it  once  would  have  been.  «  do  not  let  that  warm  your  heart  too  much.  i  would  hate  to  be  responsible  for  the  underworld  flooding.  »  then  the  amusement  thinned.  «  something  is  wrong.  »

the  words  came  plainly  at  last,  and  zeus  disliked  the  sound  of  them  the  moment  they  were  outside  his  mouth.  too  simple.  too  bare.  kings  were  supposed  to  dress  fear  properly  before  anyone  else  saw  it.  prophecy,  omen,  disturbance,  threat.  anything  except  the  truth  of  it,  which  was  that  zeus  did  not  know  what  had  shifted,  only  that  something  had,  and  that  for  once  his  pride  had  not  been  enough  to  convince  him  otherwise.

«  the  sky  has  been  answering  too  slowly.  »  he  said  it  low,  as  though  the  walls  themselves  might  become  curious  if  he  spoke  louder.  «  storms  forming  where  i  did  not  call  them.  lightning  striking  without  temper  behind  it.  eagles  refusing  the  western  cliffs.  priests  burning  offerings  and  receiving  nothing  but  ash  that  smells  of  the  old  pit.  »  he  laughed  once,  bitter  and  short,  then  rubbed  a  hand  over  his  jaw.  «  and  before  you  ask,  yes,  i  checked  whether  it  was  one  of  my  children  being  dramatic.  it  usually  is.  apollo  swore  innocence  beautifully,  which  means  nothing.  hermes  looked  too  amused,  which  also  means  nothing.  ares  accused  the  weather  of  cowardice.  athena  told  me  i  should  have  noticed  earlier,  which  was  helpful  in  the  way  a  knife  between  the  ribs  is  technically  informative.  »

«  then  the  dead  began  speaking  my  name  in  dreams.  » that  was  the  part  he  had  not  wanted  to  say.  it  soured  the  air  between  them  more  than  any  insult  could  have.  zeus  stood  still  after  it,  jaw  tight,  shoulders  set,  the  king  of  gods  looking  suddenly  more  like  a  brother  who  had  dragged  himself  out  of  an  old  memory  and  found  it  waiting  in  daylight  too.

. @unholyrites hera asked for hades : you don't have to put on a smile for me.

oh, but that was where she was wrong. if there was one he needed to put on a smile for, it was her ... hera. she had been the first to make him feel something within that darkness they had once been forced to endure. and the one to shatter those feelings the moment they had stepped out of it. he feared she could read him better than anyone else in this world. read him in a way no one ever could. and for that ... he could not allow it. the smile remained on his lips, dry and hollow ... devoid of true emotion. even if she could see right through it. through him.

he could not show her anything different. not when she belonged to another. when duty and destiny had driven her away from him, away from anything he might have offered, something that, to her, had been nothing. ❝ why should i not smile with you, sister ? ❞ the last word left his lips dry and cold. as though that single word alone was meant to build a wall between them. a wall that could never be broken. a wall he had once believed would truly keep them apart.

he could not see her as anything more than his queen. his sister. and yet ... when he closed his eyes, he saw her differently. if she had ever dared to touch his heart, she would have felt it, how it beat for her, faster than it ever would for anyone else. ❝ do not worry, hera. i will not remain at this gathering for long. i will allow zeus to give his speech, and then i will return to the underworld. ❞ his crimson eyes locked with hers, perhaps for a second longer than they should have. he wanted to remain distant, cold ... as he was with everyone else. but for a moment, just a moment, he almost softened. almost.

❝ you may go greet your other guests, my queen. ❞ and his gaze darkened as it moved away. hades did not blame her, not truly. but he could not allow himself to feel. for he feared that, if he did ... it would break him.

«  and  then  queen  because  you  want  to  pretend  you  are  only  being  respectful.  »  she  finally  looked  down  at  the  cup,  at  the  untouched  wine,  at  the  small  tremor  she  had  kept  almost  hidden  in  her  fingers.  almost.  that  was  irritating.  she  hated  that  too.  hated  that  he  could  still  pull  something  real  from  her  with  one  word  and  one  smile  that  did  not  even  reach  his  eyes.  «  you  think  i  cannot  tell  the  difference?  »

hera  looked  back  at  him  then,  and  there  was  no  softness  waiting  politely  in  her  face.  there  was  hurt,  yes,  she  could  not  scrape  all  of  it  away  fast  enough,  but  there  was  anger  over  it,  pride  over  that,  and  something  older  underneath  both.  something  that  had  started  in  darkness,  long  before  thrones,  before  marriage,  before  zeus  learned  how  easily  people  looked  away  when  power  smiled  at  them.

«  i  know  what  you  are  doing,  hades.  you  always  do  this.  you  make  yourself  cold  enough  that  no  one  can  accuse  you  of  wanting  anything.  then  you  leave  before  anyone  can  ask  what  it  cost  you  to  stand  there  in  the  first  place.  »  she  stepped  closer,  only  slightly.  enough  for  him  to  know  it  was  deliberate,  not  enough  for  the  room  to  notice.  she  would  not  give  olympus  that.  she  had  given  olympus  enough.

«  and  do  not  tell  me  you  are  leaving  for  my  sake.  »  her  mouth  tightened  around  the  words  before  she  forced  them  out  anyway.  «  that  is  a  coward’s  kindness.  disappear,  and  then  make  me  grateful  for  the  absence.  » the  noise  of  the  gathering  pressed  around  them.  someone  laughed  too  loudly.  a  servant  passed  close  enough  that  hera  had  to  turn  her  face  a  fraction,  just  enough  to  become  queen  again  until  they  were  gone.  the  second  they  passed,  her  eyes  found  him  once  more.

«  you  are  not  the  only  one  who  was  given  a  kingdom  and  told  to  rot  inside  it.  »  it  came  out  before  she  could  soften  it.  good.  perhaps  she  was  tired  of  softening  everything.  perhaps  she  was  tired  of  being  the  one  who  made  every  awful  thing  easier  to  survive  because  she  stood  straight,  because  she  wore  gold  well,  because  she  could  sit  beside  zeus  and  not  look  like  something  in  her  had  been  buried  alive.