TheCanadestGoose
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Those doe-eyes focus on her again. "That's what I'm working on. To fix what's broken, and make it whole."
"You'd be doing what I couldn't do, then—," Eurydice says slowly, eyes narrowing. "—as their child that they adopted to fix their broken marriage. You've raised my expectations for this song. Sing it for me."
"No— it isn't finished," he stammers.
"Am I not Lord Hades' daughter? Your Lady? Sing the song."
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It couldn’t be helped. For some reason, behaviour that was perfectly intuitive to other people seemed incomprehensible to him. Surely there was some fault within his soul, perhaps a symptom of being a muse’s son or growing up in the company of gods.
But Orpheus was stubborn. He could learn.
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Dangerous, the familiarity that grows with time. With previous lovers, he’d hidden the fact that he enjoyed being bossed around, shy and somewhat ashamed of it.
Eurydice had sniffed out his preferences like a bloodhound within the first week.
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What it says on the tin, really.
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He’s on his knees again, kissing her hands - almost seems to prefer this vantage point. She hopes to the gods that he’s not looking for something to worship. She hopes he knows that she’s just a person, and barely a whole one at that. Sometimes she feels like a shade already.
She wonders if he would love her half-starved and selfish.
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‘It was too close,’ he says, so quiet that Eurydice barely catches it. ‘It wasn’t— trust that got us out of Hadestown. I had nothing left. I had no hope that you were behind me. It was an accident, Eurydice, we walked out because I shut my eyes and shut everything out and just kept going—‘
It finally dawns on her. ‘And now you can’t stop or you’ll fall apart.’
— — —
Orpheus won’t let himself rest, haunted by their successful return. Eurydice takes matters into her own hands.
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"Everybody knows that walls have ears. Fewer people know that they have voices, too.
Voices to whisper, to spread advice, rumors: tales of a girl who’d stolen from the king. A girl who had things from up above, who’d use them to help you remember.
And if you asked the right questions, at the right times, you’d find that hushed as they were, those voices were consistent. Pointed to the same person, the same place. Legends had thousands of versions. Truth was singular.
He was a person who asked the right questions."
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In a world where Orpheus and Eurydice both got stuck in Hadestown, Eurydice starts her own quiet rebellion, and they find each other. Like always.Bookmarked by TheCanadestGoose
02 Jul 2026