Work Text:
“ When it's time to say goodbye
And a tear wells in my eye
I can hold my head up high
When I think of You
My flesh is weak, but Your Spirit wills
That my heart and mind ooh, will think of You ”
Orpheus trailed off, strumming softly at his guitar that was placed down in his lap. With his eyes shut, he let his thoughts and daydreams drift him away, far away, to the corners of his mind where inspiration would fill his head and soon, the many crumbled pages of his worn notebook.
It was a dreary fall afternoon; the grey sky was beginning to peer out from behind puffy, dirty clouds. The air smelled of freshly poured rain, the browning grass wet from the morning dew. The once colorful leaves that hung bountiful from the trees now littered the muddy ground, stomped and tattered.
Eurydice had left for a midday walk earlier that afternoon. Orpheus could sense something was off with his wife; the poor woman had grown antsier and antsier in the last few weeks. Orpheus had chalked the shifting mood up to the changing weather. The warm and sweet summer had morphed into breezy, frigid fall. And with that change came all the worries and pressures the season provided.
Orpheus had been the one to suggest the walk. It was their first day off in weeks. And due to the weather, the two had been cramped in their tiny cabin. Cabin fever was harshly setting in. Eurydice sat silently perched in their ratty recliner, a near busted thing they found in a junk pile. Bundled under a sheet, she watched the clouds drift away from out the window.
“Love, why don’t you go for a walk?” Orpheus suggested, in a warm, enthused tone.
“Trying to kick me out of the house, Lover?” she shot back with no real bite.
“Oh no, not at all!” Orpheus scrambled, cheeks and ears red and hot like the sun. “I just thought maybe some fresh air would cheer you up a bit and-”
Eurydice let out a single snort and smiled at her stuttering husband- a tiny one where only the corners of her mouth curled the slightest bit up, purely genuine. Orpheus felt the air get caught in his throat. Married for two years and the sight of Eurydice’s smile never failed to send giddy sensations throughout his body, stalling his body into a trance. “Maybe you’re right. A walk could do me some good.”
With a wide toothy grin, Orpheus grabbed her hand. With a slight tug, he pulled his wife from her spot on the chair, the sheet falling slowly to the ground. Eurydice wrapped her arms around Orpheus’ neck, perched herself on the top of her toes, and brought Orpheus down to place a slow, chaste kiss on his lips. It was moments like this that the two loves the most, huddled close together in a warm embrace, completely enamored with one another. They knew each other's strengths and weak spots, and in response, how to soothe and to inspire. Their love knew no bounds, and it showed in times like this.
Eurydice left shortly afterward. In the few hours since Eurydice’s departure, Orpheus spent his free time with not only his lyre but now his guitar he received as a present from the town when he and Eurydice returned. Since coming back from Hadestown, he tried to devote more time to work and Eurydice, never wanting her to feel neglected or lonely again. But in return, it meant fewer hours with his music. Sure, he still performed at Hermes bar quite frequently, but whenever free time was available, he could be found sprawled out on the floor, at the bar counter, music sheets spread to the wind, strumming away.
The sun was beginning to set over the trees; Eurydice would usually be home by now. Just then, Orpheus heard the sound of their creaky door being swung open. A familiar pattern of footsteps: Eurydice’s.
“Oh ‘Rydice, welcome back,” Orpheus called out gleefully, gently placing down his lyre and lifting himself from his spot on the old worn rug. “I think I’ve finally worked out the final verse for that new song and was just about to start dinner. How was your wa-” as Orpheus turned towards the direction of the front door, he couldn’t help but stop mid-sentence. Tucked behind his wife’s small stature was the even smaller frame of a very young boy, no older than six, in a dark, oversized sweatshirt.
The first thing Orpheus noticed was his eyes, a striking teal-ish green that perfectly contrasted with his brown skin. They looked so tired, hard yet sad, hungry; they reminded Orpheus of Eurydice’s when he first met her. Eyes of someone who’s had to deal with more than one person ever should. Leaves and debris protruded from the mop of greasy, ultra-dark hair that curled at the ends to reach the tip of his eyes. The boy’s hoodie was an old thing. Dirt-stained and navy blue. Tattered with rips and holes and the thing completely drowned out his figure. A few cuts and swelling purple-blue bruises covered his arms, cheeks, and neck, instantly making Orpheus’ skin crawl and blood run cold. ‘Did someone hurt this poor boy? He’s so small…’ Orpheus locked eyes with the child who quickly averted his gaze in fear. He violently trembled where he stood, still hiding close behind Eurydice’s legs, little pudgy fingers grasping tight to the woman's ripped black tights. Using all the willpower he could muster, Orpheus held himself back from rushing over and scooping the wee boy up into his arms, wanting nothing more than to sing his pain away. Instead, he chose to address his much calmer wife whose hand was softly brushing through the boy's tangled hair.
“I was just about to start dinner,” Orpheus continued as composed as he could be, not wanting to distress the boy any further. “I was just thinking about making some soup from those beans and other vegetables Lady Persephone gave us.”
Eurydice blew out a relieved sigh, something she nor Orpheus even realized she was holding. The tension in her muscles relaxed, shoulders dropping back down to size, no more bravado needed, “that sounds wonderful, I’m starving. I brought back a few more ingredients from the market that we can use.”
‘That’s not the only thing you brought back…’ Orpheus thought humorously, still stunned by the unknown child in his home.
“Orpheus, hun, would you begin prepping the vegetables? I need to run a quick bath, and then I’ll be out to join you.” Orpheus nodded his head at his wife’s request. Eurydice directed her attention back to the boy, crouching down to his level. She circled her hand back and forth over his head and the side of his face. She looked so...maternal. It was so different from the usually hardened exterior she put on display for others, but not unwelcome. She was quite entrancing when she acted like this.
“Miko, this is my husband Orpheus, remember I told you about him back at the market?”
Miko meekly nodded his head and with a bit more courage, peeked further out from his spot to stare up at Orpheus, hesitance evident. ‘Miko, huh?’ Orpheus took note of the teeny birthmarks near the corners of his eyes. “Hello, Miko. I’m Orpheus,” he smiled, “but I think my wife told you that already.”
The boy didn’t say anything, just continuing to stare. Orpheus frowned, he couldn’t help but wonder if the child didn’t like him. He knew that it was irrational, he just met the child for Gods sake, who was most likely just nervous about being in a new place, but still, Orpheus couldn’t help but be fraught with worry.
“Alright then,” Eurydice chimed in, snapping the two boys out of their reverie, “I’ll go draw a bath for Miko while you, Orpheus, start prepping the vegetables for me. Come, Miko, I’ll get the tub ready for you.” She grabbed the child’s hand and guided him in the direction of the couple's compact bathroom.
Orpheus rushed to the kitchen to start with dinner. He chopped, peeled, and quartered various ingredients- peppers, potatoes, carrots, squash, an onion, some fresh herbs. Most had been a gift from Persephone. He tried to ignore out the sounds of running water and faint chatter of Eurydice. He hoped that by busying himself with his assigned tasks, he could keep his mind from wandering to who and what was happening in his washroom. Soon minutes passed, and Orpheus was so engrossed in his actions, he failed to notice his wife walk out of the bathroom, holding a filthy sweatshirt and pants. She dropped them to the floor and stepped into their kitchen, right next to her husband, who was humming a song she didn’t recognize.
“Looks yummy,” she whispered as she placed her hand on his forearm, causing Orpheus to jump.
“You scared me,” he breathed, turning away from the counter and pulling Eurydice in close.
“‘Rydice-” Orpheus started but was quickly cut off by his wife.
“Oh, before you get too far with cooking, I bought some special ingredients for tonight.” She pulled away from Orpheus and quickly marched back towards the front door to retrieve her satchel. She yanked out a small parcel wrapped in thin, brown paper and tied tightly with white string. She pushed it into Orpheus’ hands. “Open it,” she lightly commanded.
Orpheus undid the string and pulled back the layers of paper: a chain of sausages. Orpheus felt his eyes go wide; actual ground sausages, six of them to be exact. Eurydice smiled, “I also went ahead and bought a loaf of bread. Nothing big or fancy, but it’s freshly baked from this morning instead of days old.” Orpheus was stunned, the two rarely ever purchased meat or fancy bread during their routine trips to the market in the center of town. It was much cheaper to buy freshly grown produce and canned goods or bargain for near stale bread than to buy things like meat and baked goods. And with Eurydice’s anxieties over their expenses, the two figured they would be okay without. They only splurged on such delicacies on the most special of occasions. Tonight must have been bigger than he thought.
“‘Rydice, I’m...what-”
“Do you think you can handle cooking the rest of dinner? I need to get washing Miko’s clothes.” She picked up the pile of laundry from off of the floor, “they’re absolutely disgusting. They probably need to be resown as well…”
“Eurydice.”
Eurydice stopped her rambling and faced her husband. She sees the look in Orpheus’ eyes, he was confused and concerned, and that it was driving him mad. But absent was any sign of resentment or anger. “Eurydice, please, what’s going on with Miko? Who exactly is he?”
Eurydice was silent for a few moments, peering down at the clothes in her hands. “I was finishing up my trip to the market, and on my way back I heard screaming. I ran over to an alleyway, and I saw this older man beating on this little boy. According to the man, the boy stole some food from his stall and started to run away. Which meant, in the man’s words, that he was in the right to beat and berate this poor small child,” Eurydice huffed, her eyes hard and glassy. “I paid for the food he stole, and I asked him where his family was...he said, he said…” Hot, angry tears started to fall from her eyes as she gripped the crumpled clothes still in her hands. “He had no one. Nowhere else to go and he, he reminded me of myself...I just couldn’t-”
Orpheus didn’t need to hear anymore. He pulled Eurydice in his arms as she softly sobbed, memories of her past flooded her mind. “Shh, shh, it’s alright, Eurydice, my love. You’re home. Everything is gonna be okay.” He copied what she did with Miko, running his fingers through her hair as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, kissing along her forehead and temples.
After a few minutes, Eurydice’s sobs subsided. She roughly wiped at her eyes, “I’m sorry.”
“Never apologize for crying ‘Rydice,” Orpheus cooed, using the pad of his thumb to brush away a stray tear. “We all have to sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less strong.”
She sniffed, giving a quick rub at her nose, “please don’t be mad. I know money and food are tight sometimes, but I couldn’t leave him there! I just couldn’t.” She sounded so desperate.
“Hey, why would I ever be mad?” Orpheus asked. Sure he was beyond surprised when his wife, miss lone survivor, brought back a young child home with her from her walk, but he could never be mad at her.
Eurydice gazed at Orpheus, hesitance wavering in her voice, “so Miko, can stay…?”
“Of course, he can!”
A wide grin broke out over Eurydice’s face as she laughed in Orpheus’ neck. Orpheus smiled again at Eurydice’s excitement; he never thought she was the type who wanted to be a mother. He had always wanted to be a dad. To raise a child and teach them many things like how to play the lyre, to sing them lullabies to sleep, watch them grow, be a better father than his own. The happiness in the air turned sour. What if he was a worse parent than his own? Orpheus’ concerns began to manifest on his face, his soft and almost boyish features furrowing at the thought.
“Orpheus? What’s wrong?”
“What if I’m a terrible father? Miko didn’t exactly enjoy my presence earlier when we met.”
Eurydice chuckled, “oh poor, great Orpheus, fretting over how a child sees him.”
“I’m being serious Eurydice,” Orpheus replied somberly.
“And I am too,” she said, bringing her hands up to cup his face. “Orpheus, I need you to listen to me: you are the kindest, sweetest soul I’ve ever had the chance to meet. Your heart is so full of love, and I know you will be a great dad. You’re nothing like your parents; you’re loyal and brave and so, so caring. And yes, you’re not perfect, but no one is, and I wouldn’t want you any other way. I love you, and I’m sure Miko will learn to love you too.”
Orpheus pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, and Eurydice quickly reciprocated it. “I love you,” he said once he pulled back.
“I love you too. Now, let’s make dinner. I wasn’t joking when I said I was starving.”
The two got to work: Orpheus cooking, Eurydice washing, and hanging Miko’s clothes. Just as they were wrapping up, they heard the bathroom door quietly open.
“Euri?” a quiet voice called out. The two turn around and see Miko all clean and wearing an old white button-up of Eurydice’s. It was too big for him, the fabric reaching past his knees, but it would work for the night.
“Euri?” Orpheus asked with a raised eyebrow.
Eurydice rolled her eyes, “oh, Miko! You’re just in time,” she smiled, pouring hot broth into three different bowls. “Dinner’s just about ready.” Miko gingerly padded over to the kitchen. He stands close Eurydice, rising on his toes, poking his head up to look over the counter. “You wanna hold your bowl, or do you want me to carry it?”
“I can do it, Euri,” Miko said, his demure voice now a bit more determined.
Eurydice handed him the smallest bowl they had, “careful, the bowl’s very hot.”
Miko nodded once more before taking the bowl. With small, cautious steps and a stern face, Miko made his way out the kitchen, past the couples measly make-shift dinner table, then abruptly stopped and sat on an empty spot on the floor.
“Uh, um Miko?” Orpheus said puzzled, “why are you sitting on the floor?”
“I ‘posed to sit here,” he said as if by muscle memory.
“Who said that?” Eurydice pressed.
Miko didn’t speak at first, stirring his spoon in his bowl. The couples waited with bated breath, not wanting the boy to continue if he was uncomfortable. “...the mean man and his wife.”
“Mean man and his wife?” Eurydice repeated.
Miko lowered his head. “Dirty boys don’t get to eat at the table.”
Orpheus swore he could feel hot, burning steam radiating off Eurydice. She was angry, no, furious, pissed off even. She took a deep, shaky breath. Eyes glued to the boy alone on the floor, “Miko, for as long as you stay with us, which will hopefully be a for a long while, we will never, and I mean NEVER, make you eat on the floor.”
Miko raised his head, “you want me to stay?”
Eurydice bopped her up and down, “we’d love for you stay with us.”
“A-and no floor?”
“No floor.”
“...never ever?”
Eurydice smiled, “never ever never.”
Miko grinned, letting out an airy giggle at Eurydice’s words. Both adults felt their chest grow warm, filled to the brim with pure, tender joy. As he grinned, Orpheus noticed a few of Miko’s baby teeth were missing. Eurydice spoke again, “so Miko, do you want to eat up here with us?”
Miko’s smile dropped once again. Maybe it was too soon to expect him to be ready for such a major change. Suddenly, Orpheus thought of a brilliant idea, “Miko, how about instead of you sitting up here, we come and eat with you on the floor? We can sit on the rug near the fireplace. It can be like a picnic!”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Eurydice agreed, blown away at how sweet and quickly her husband had come up with the suggestion. “What do ya say, Miko? Can we join you?”
Miko’s eyes widened, tiny tears popping up in his eyes. In a quiet voice, no louder than a whisper, he said, “yes, please.”
…
After their lively meal on the living room floor: jammed packed with giggles, soup slurping contests, and funny stories, the three now lay spread out, bellies full from bowls of hearty soup. The soft sounds of the crackling fire echoed the home. Miko was cuddled up in Eurydice’s side, his arms wrapped around her middle and one of hers going down his back. Orpheus had just finished washing the dishes and returned to join his wife and the young boy. He reached out to grab his guitar, giving the old instrument a few good strums. Miko’s attention promptly fell on Orpheus, curiosity evident on his face.
“Want to hear Orpheus play?” Eurydice asked Miko, fingers back to playing with his hair. “He’s the best musician in the world.”
Without even looking in a mirror, Orpheus could tell his cheeks were aflame. Beaming from his wife’s praise, he stopped his strumming, “any request you two?”
“How about the new one you’ve been working one?” Eurydice suggested. “You mentioned when we came home that you figured out that part you were stuck on.”
“It’s not finished yet.”
“Don’t matter. I still want to hear it. And I’m sure Miko wouldn’t mind. Right, Miko?” Miko, whose eyes were still locked on the guitar in Orpheus’ lap, gave a quick nod.
Orpheus grinned, “okay, if you insist.”
Then he began. Fingers skillfully plucking strings, a beautiful melody floated through the air. After a short instrumental, he opened his mouth and started to sing:
“ When I'm lost, you bring me back
When I cry, you make me glad
When I think I have it bad
I think of You
“When I don't know where to go
And I feel like I'm alone
When I hang my head down low
I think of You
“Each night You wait outside my door
Cause You want to know ohh, I think of You…”
Miko was completely enthralled- eyes open and locked, his body leaning forward as if to be closer to the sound. Eurydice had to check that he was still breathing. She had suspected the young boy would enjoy her husband's music, but to see him, this enthused filled her heart with pride. She wiggled her fingers on Miko’s stomach, causing the boy to giggle loudly. Orpheus smiled at the exchange and continued his song until the end, or well until he got to where he last let off. “So, how was that?”
“As lovely as ever lover boy,” Eurydice swooned. “What did you think, Miko?” Miko nodded his head so fast Eurydice was scared it would come flying right off.
“Thanks,” Orpheus said. He watched Miko stare down the guitar, balancing on his legs. “You wanna touch it?”
“Can I?”
Orpheus pushed the guitar away and patted his lap, “come sit here.” Miko crawled over to Orpheus, who scooped him up and placed the boy in his lap. He put the guitar over their laps, then guided Miko’s fingers over the strings and fretboard. “Okay, put your fingers here, and one right there, and...strum!”
Miko did as instructed, and a slightly off note rang out. Miko was all smiles regardless, “You hear Euri?”
“I did, Miko, good job hun,” Eurydice cheered.
“Orphe, did I do a good job?” Orphe? ‘Well, I guess that’s my new name.’
“That was very good. You wanna try the next one?”
“Yes!”
So they continued, learning one chord to the next. Soon the lesson was forgotten altogether as Orpheus began to play some simple song that he was most definitely making up as he went:
“Miko, oh Miko,
A young boy dressed in blue
Look out here comes a pack of…uhh”
“Puppies!” Miko giggled loudly. Orpheus glanced at his wife, eyebrows high. Was this cheery boy in their room even the same child from earlier in the evening?
“Puppies! Oh, Gods please let that be true!”
Eurydice watched the two in awe: Miko all smiles and laughs and Orpheus singing aloud, playing music without a care. She could get used to this; early mornings laughs as the sun blared through the windows, midday walks through the forest, cold fingers entwined as the wind blew, late evening songs bundled up near the fire. She and her now, two boys, yeah, she could get used to this.